It’s important to understand that these were Egyptian security guards employed by USAID. Rent-a-cops. They had no authority outside the facility. They were on the phone with someone inside USAID who was giving direction.
This isn’t my first encounter of this kind, and there is a pattern to these things that is the same the world over: The older, more senior the officials with whom you are dealing, the darker your prospects become. The social media savvy young guns typically Google you, see you’ve been on American television, assume you are famous, and ask for a selfie. But if you start getting bumped up the food chain by the Russian FSB or China’s Ministry of State Security, you’re just a few short steps from a gulag.
In this case, things escalated quickly. Whoever was calling the shots inside USAID called Cairo police and, close on their heels, the NSA, Egypt’s infamous secret police. The National Security Agency — sometimes referred to as, ironically, Homeland Security — is the successor to the brutal SSIS: State Security Investigations Service, Egypt’s equivalent of the KGB. Indeed, NSA agents were trained by them, and, just as the KGB reemerged in the post-Soviet era as the FSB, the SSIS likewise simply rebranded after the Arab Spring of 2011 toppled Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak. Secret police in totalitarian regimes are a kind of brotherhood who operate outside the law.
From the outset of the NSA agents’ arrival, one guy was aggressive, trying, I think, to provoke an altercation. My passport and phone were once again an issue, and I again refused to hand them over. As I held my phone tightly, he pushed it to my face to unlock it, but that was pointless. For this reason, I have never activated iPhone’s facial recognition feature, and I had no intention of giving him the old-fashioned code to unlock it.
When he left to consider next moves, I called the U.S. Embassy in Cairo. The man answering the call was unhelpful.
“Have they arrested you?” he asked.
“No.”
“Just drive away.”
This was a very American answer to a very un-American situation. Egyptian authorities had already indicated they would fire on the vehicle if we attempted to leave. I hung up, my circumstances as bleak as ever.
Throughout all of this, I was surreptitiously videoing whatever I could. With the NSA man huddling up with the security personnel increasingly surrounding the car, I began firing off the videos one by one to my colleague Laurence Fox and others.
Cellular reception in the Third World is iffy at best, but Mohamed had, at the last minute, equipped the car with Wi-Fi. Silently, I prayed:
Send! Send! Send! Sooner or later, they would inspect my phone. Hurriedly, I went into my photos app and deleted the offending videos and photos. Fox and others had them now. Just in case whoever inspected the phone was tech-smart, I went to “recently deleted” and trashed them permanently.