LONDON -- Laila Soueif is a mathematician, a university professor, a political activist.
But as she slumped in a folding chair outside the gates of the British prime minister’s office on day 129 of a hunger strike, she was just a mother — a mom trying to win freedom for her son who has spent more than five years in an Egyptian prison, accused of “spreading false news” on social media.
Sacrificing her very self is the only way Soueif sees to focus attention on what she says is unjust imprisonment of her son, Alaa Abd el-Fattah.
“The great majority of mothers are prepared to die for their children; it just takes different forms,’’ she said on Wednesday. “Most mothers, if their children are in actual danger, you’re prepared to die.’’
One of Egypt’s most prominent pro-democracy activists, Abd el-Fattah has spent most of the past 14 years behind bars since taking part in the 2011 uprising that toppled autocratic former President Hosni Mubarak.
His most recent crime was “liking” a Facebook post describing torture in Egyptian prisons. Abd el-Fattah has been in custody since September 2019, and was sentenced to five years in prison after a trial before an emergency security court.
But when his release date came up last September, Egyptian authorities refused to count the more than two years he had spent in pre-trial detention and ordered him held until Jan. 3, 2027.
Because Abd el-Fattah, 43, has both British and Egyptian citizenship, Soueif is calling on the U.K. government to put pressure on their counterparts in Cairo to release him.
This may be a good moment for Britain to speak up because Egypt will be looking for European support in opposing President Donald Trump’s proposal to take control of the Gaza Strip and relocate its Palestinian residents to neighboring Arab countries, Soueif said.
“Now that Donald Trump has upset the whole world, they actually need allies…” she said. “So, in fact, I think it’s time for the Egyptian government to look to its European allies and to its allies among the Egyptian people. Freeing other political prisoners in Egypt would be a good thing to do right now.”
Thousands of critics of Egyptian President Abdel Fattah el-Sissi have been locked up under dire conditions after unjust trials, human rights groups say.
Soueif’s son also went on hunger strike during Egypt’s hosting of the international climate conference COP27. His strike, which ended when he lost consciousness and was revived with fluids, drew attention to Egypt’s heavy suppression of speech and political activity, but failed to secure his freedom.
Since 2013, el-Sissi’s government has cracked down on dissidents and critics, jailing thousands, virtually banning protests and monitoring social media.
Human Rights Watch estimated in 2019 that as many as 60,000 political prisoners are incarcerated in Egyptian prisons, but there have been no similar tallies in recent years. In 2019, el-Sissi told the U.S. news program ’60 Minutes’ that the country did “not have political prisoners or prisoners of opinion.”
“What we are seeing under (el-Sissi’s) government is that this kind of repression is endless,’’ said Amr Magdi, a senior researcher in the Middle East and North Africa division at Human Rights Watch. “It’s relentless.’’
A spokesman for Egypt’s Foreign Ministry did not respond to a request for comment on Abd el-Fattah’s continued detention or the nature of communications between Egypt and the United Kingdom on his case. A government media office also declined to respond, saying it was a matter for Egypt’s embassy in the U.K. The embassy did not respond to requests for comment.
As in Abd el-Fattah’s case, new charges are often rotated to replace the original offenses, allowing authorities to circumvent laws that prohibit pre-trial detention of more than two years, rights groups say.
During the United Nations Human Rights Council’s review of Egypt last month, the Egyptian government insisted that Abd el-Fattah's trial was “fair,” and that his five-year prison term was set to end in 2027.
But the U.K.’s Foreign Commonwealth and Development Office said the government continues to press for Abd el-Fattah’s release, with Prime Minister Keir Starmer writing to el-Sissi on multiple occasions and Foreign Secretary David Lammy raising the issue with his counterpart as recently as on Jan. 23.
“Our priority remains securing the release of Mr (Abd el-Fattah) so that he can be reunited with his family,” the Foreign Office said in a statement.
Soueif acknowledged the British government's efforts, but appealed for more help in securing her son's release.
“Nobody should be imprisoned for speech or writing — nobody,” she said. “People, particularly people in countries that pretend to be democracies and that abide by the rule of law, should not allow this kind of thing.”
So the 68-year-old mom continues her crusade.
Soueif has been on hunger strike since Sep. 29, the day her son was supposed to be released, consuming nothing but herbal tea, black coffee and rehydration salts.
She took her campaign directly to the Foreign Office in December, camping out in front of it every weekday to make sure officials notice her. When that yielded no results, she switched in mid-January to the gates of Starmer’s office — the famous black door of 10 Downing Street.
After more than four months, Soueif has lost 25 kilos (55 pounds) and jokes that she was helped by being a little overweight at the start of her hunger strike. Her soft voice is sometimes difficult to hear over the street noise and she has trouble getting out of her chair. She's also been to the emergency room this week.
“I’m slower. I’m more weepy,’’ she said. “I never used to be weepy.”
“It’s already a miracle I have hung on this long,” she added. “What to say? We are in completely uncharted waters. ... It’s a risk I have to take.”
So, every weekday morning she unfolds her chair and adds another hash mark to the sidewalk tally charting her hunger strike.
Framed by “Free Alaa” posters and a banner that reads “Keir Starmer, bring my son home,” there are also pictures of mother and son together in happier times — a hug by a waterfall, a celebration after an earlier release from prison, and three blowups of her curly-haired boy smiling for the camera.
On one morning this week, when another protester asked why no one is interested in his immigration issue, Soueif quiets him with a few words.
“My son, my son,’’ she says pleading. “He’s a political prisoner in Egypt.’’
A group of French schoolchildren walk by, pausing to look at her signs and count the chalk marks on the pavement. Soueif talks to them in French: “My son. I’m here because of my son.’’
Anyone who will listen is Soueif's audience. You never know. Perhaps someone can do something.
“I’m going on until either Alaa is released or I collapse,’’ she said. “And I don’t know how long that will be.”