Editor’s Note: Interview by Rama Salla Dieng, Lecturer in African Studies and International Development at CAS (@drsaalajeng). This interview is the final of the #Talkingback African Feminisms in Dialogue Series which is a travelling series which appeared on the Review of African Political Economy Blog (ROAPE.net), on AfricaIsACountry and on Progressive International. Yara Sallam (@yarasallam) is an Egyptian feminist and human rights activist based in Cairo. Yara has worked at various organizations, including the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights (EIPR), Nazra for Feminist Studies, and the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights (ACHPR). She has worked on diverse issues, including criminal justice, regional and international human rights mechanisms, transitional justice, freedom of religion and belief, and women human rights defenders.
Rama’s Note: Yara and I met thanks to a mutual friend from SOAS, Mohammed Mossallam . In this interview, I ask Yara about her pan-African convictions, her work as a human rights defender, her imprisonment under president El-Sisi. Yara shares with us how her feminist principles inspire her professional and activist work. She also talks about her book: Even the Finest of Warriors, which is part of a series of personal articles on mental health, general exhaustion, in the context of documenting the struggle of women in the public space. Even the Finest of Warriors moves forth from the precept that our struggle in the public space is not dissociated from our struggle in the private one, and that our lives and our personal struggles with our surrounding circumstances are worthy of documentation.
1. Hello Yara, it’s a pleasure to have this conversation with you. Could you please introduce yourself?
Thank you, Rama, the pleasure is mine. I’m an African Arab feminist and legal researcher from Egypt, currently living in Cairo. Since my graduation from law school in 2007, I worked on a variety of issues related to human rights and feminism including criminal justice, regional and international human rights mechanisms, transitional justice, freedom of religion and belief, and women human rights defenders. I enjoy the sun, the sea, scuba diving, listening to music, watching films, reading novels, working-out, and taking nice, long walks.
2. What is your definition of feminism? And what influences and inspires your feminism?
It’s a good question to ask about ‘one’s’ definition of feminism. My feminism is a learning process and political activism for equality of all genders, considering different intersections that are contributing to inequality such as class, race, sexuality and gender identity, and disability. I’m inspired by the lives and work of women around me, whether they define themselves as feminists or not – and my first inspiration is my mother.
3. What led you to your activist work? (Al Nosoor al Segheera)
I was a very active child and my mother was always trying to diversify my activities, and in 2000, when I was a teenager, I joined “al-Nosoor al-Sagheera” (The Young Eagles); an organisation working with children and adolescents to engage them with human and child rights. I believe since then and I’ve been interested in activism and human rights. I later went to law school and continued to be engaged in student activities that are also related to human rights.
4. In 2011, you worked as a legal assistant at the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights in The Gambia. Can you please tell us about this experience, and your pan-African convictions?
I’ve always felt I belonged more to the African continent than to the Arab region, which is interesting because as Egyptians we are raised more to think and connect with the Arab culture and our African identity is not really highlighted. With the exception of the Palestinian cause, I identify more with the African continent than the Arab region, although in terms of language I’m personally and professionally very invested in writing in Arabic and translating text to the latter.
After finishing my LL.M. degree in international human rights law in 2010, I was able to apply for university funds for an internship in the field of human rights. Back then, I had already been to The Gambia and attended a session of the ACHPR, in addition to studying the African human rights system during my masters. I loved Banjul as a city and I had faith in the development of a human rights system that is supportive to victims in the region. I also knew they were under-staffed and had no interns or staff who spoke Arabic so I thought I would be useful more than to go for an internship in one of the big international human rights organisations. I learned later that many universities send their graduate students for internships at the Commission which I think is a great idea. In a six months period, as a professional legal assistant in the Protection Department at the Secretariat, I drafted Admissibility decisions and Review Opinion, worked on State Reports, drafted presentations and resolutions, as well as other tasks assigned to me during my internship by the Secretary of the ACHPR. I learned a lot from my work at the Commission, both in the field of international law and in issues relevant to our African continent.
5. You received the Africa Human Rights Defender (HRD) award in 2013, what does it mean to be a HRD according to you and how has receiving this recognition influenced your work?
Being a woman human rights defender means to be dedicated and committed to working for the implementation and protection of all human rights to all people, without discrimination and with no hierarchy between different rights. It was an honour and a privilege to have been awarded the first North Africa Shield Award (2013) for my human rights work in Egypt from “African Defenders”; a Pan-African human rights defenders network. To have my work acknowledged by a Pan-African network meant that the work of North African defenders and feminists also counted for the region, which was a proof that I’m right to have faith and invest in working on the African human rights system, and with African feminist sisters. It basically meant that the feeling that I have, that I belong to the African human rights and feminist movement, is mutual. This recognition has definitely encouraged me to be more rooted in the continent’s human rights and feminist work and activism.
6. In a July 2013 blog post, you wrote: ‘What kind of force do we push into a movement if it’s based on despair and helplessness? My life, if it can have any meaning at all or if it will be ever remembered, I want it to be about hope, laughter, joy, passion and love for life. My revolution is the same.’ What are your thoughts on the so-called ‘Arab spring’(I use this term very reticently, maybe ‘Revolution of Dignity’, to use Aya Chebbi’s term, is more appropriate) in Egypt and other countries of the Maghreb?
I don’t like the term ‘Arab Spring’; revolutions are not a season, they take time and they are not linear. I believe each country in North Africa that went through revolutions and/or uprisings are in completely different stages, with different consequences too, right now so I cannot compare them to one another. Concerning Egypt, I think we are living through a moment of political defeat but I don’t believe this is the end of it. Anyone who witnessed the 25 January 2011 revolution has witnessed change, and no one can take that away. Governments can oppress the opposition, any independent voices and can try to close the public space, but they can’t reverse the lessons many generations learned throughout the first few years of the revolution. I think this is not the end of it, for me today is a moment of reflection, collective and self-care and healing, and tomorrow will bring something different. I have hope but I’m not stuck in the same tools that we used 10 years ago.
7. In June 2014, you were arrested alongside other human rights activists, can you please tell us about the events that led to your arrest and your experience in prison? https://globalfreedomofexpression.columbia.edu/cases/the-case-of-yara-sallam-and-sanaa-seif-al-ettehadeya-palace-protest-case/
I was one of 23 protestors who were arrested for taking part in the first protest after President el-Sisi won the elections in 2014. Al-Ettehadeya protest was a peaceful protest against the protest law and calling for the release of all prisoners of conscience, regardless of their political affiliation, it was dispersed violently, and all of us faced trumped up charges. Our final sentence was 2 years in prison, 2 years of police probation and a fine, however, after 15 months we were released by a presidential pardon before el-Sisi addressed the UN General Assembly.
The UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention declared my detention as arbitrary, and requested immediate compensation. The African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights also issued press releases on the case.
It is really difficult to answer a question about my experience in prison. It is a life-changing experience and I don’t regret it in any way. I learned a lot about myself and about life that I don’t think I would have ever learned any other way. Thoughts and reflections about my prison experience come in flashes, I wrote a few things on Mada Masr and other things on my personal blog. It was a difficult experience and I don’t think prison should be glorified in anyway, so I will borrow the words of the inspiring Egyptian activist Mahienour el-Masry, who is currently unjustly in prison for almost a year; “we don’t like prison, but we don’t fear it”.
8. Egyptian feminist novelist and psychatrist Nawal al-Saadawi made Time’s ‘100 women of the Year’ list. For her, prison was a rebirth. In 1981, she was jailed for “crimes against the state” for her outspoken views, including her criticism of female circumcision. For her, the sentence was a clear demonstration of the link between political power and patriarchy. With eyebrow pencil and a roll of toilet paper, she wrote of her experience: Memoirs From the Women’s Prison,published in 1983. Does this resonate with your own experience?
I read Nawal’s prison memoirs after coming out of prison, and for sure I found some common reflections. However, she, and other women activists were imprisoned under different circumstances. I do believe that prison as an institution, not only sentencing political detainees, is an expression of patriarchy that feminists should work against. Of course reading “Are Prisons Obsolete?” by Angela Davis grounded the way I felt about prison. Nawal’s prison conditions were similar to other political detainees during her prison time, and my experience was different, we were allowed to read books and write letters to our loved ones – with one condition of course, that nothing political is to be read or written. We also had family and friends visiting us. Our case was a very well-known case so we were privileged in terms of prison conditions. Things have worsened during the last few years, and right now it is even worse with the suspension of prison visits since 10 March under the pretext of Covid-19.
9. If you were to cite three life lessons that you have learned from being a lawyer and a human rights defender what would those be?
I’m not sure if I can call them life lessons but maybe what guides my work since the start of my activism and career. I am a strong believer of the importance of documentation, so this would be the first lesson I learned; not looking for immediate results and work to contribute in building a narrative and a body of evidence-based research so if we’re unable to achieve justice right now, when the moment comes we would be ready for it. I also learned to question myself more often than usual because I’m in a constant learning process and no matter how much I build into my experience, I still leave room for constructive doubts and questioning. My last, but not least in importance, is how important it is to pay attention to well-being and try to prevent long and repetitive burnout – because unfortunately I’m not sure we can prevent it completely, but it is important to reassess the type of work we expose ourselves to, as well as the workload.
10. In your opinion, how has the COVID-19 pandemic impacted gender equality and human rights in Egypt?
There is no doubt that women, and persons with low income, are the most negatively impacted by the current pandemic. The Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights have been tracking that impact on different levels, but also the Center for Egyptian Women’s Legal Assistance did a campaign on the stories of women in the days of pandemic, which I found very telling of the exacerbated impact of Covid-19 on existing inequalities.
11. Which three books (fiction or non-fiction) by young Egyptian writers would you recommend?
It is difficult for young Egyptian women to be able to publish books but I recommend “An Attempt To Remember My Face” by Salma al-Tarzi, “How to Mend: Motherhood and its ghosts”by Imane Mersal, and the periodicals of Ikhtyar.
12. What is your self-care routine?
Well-being and self-care are issues that I’ve been struggling with during the last few years, and I tried to question this struggle with other women defenders, and wrote ‘Even the finest of Warriors’: about the different intersections that I’m able to grasp. For me, my family is my backbone so I try to make sure I meet my mother and sister at least once a week, and try to plan an annual holiday together. I also try to see my father and brother as much as I possibly can. I also usually don’t work evening time, unless there is an emergency or an exceptional event. I try to spend time by the sea, do scuba diving when there is a chance, I spend quality time with close friends, and try to enjoy art when it’s possible. Walks, bike rides, exercising, reading, and much more. I think there is no one constant routine, but more like things that I try to constantly have in my life.