A Tale of Twitter and Troubled Values
In a world where social media posts can shape public opinion, the story of Alaa Abd el-Fattah's journey to Britain raises some intriguing questions. Should a country go to great lengths to rescue someone who seems to despise its core principles? This is the dilemma that the Abd el-Fattah case presents.
Abd el-Fattah, an Egyptian pro-democracy advocate, has been a vocal critic of the regimes of Hosni Mubarak and Abdel Fattah el-Sisi. His activism has led to multiple prison stints, and he has drawn attention to torture and other human rights abuses. In 2021, he was granted British citizenship, a move that gave the UK government leverage to advocate for his release from Egyptian custody.
The British government, under three Conservative prime ministers and now Labour's Keir Starmer, made Abd el-Fattah's case a priority. Their efforts seemed to pay off when Egypt lifted his travel ban, and Starmer expressed delight at his return to the UK.
But here's where it gets controversial. Shortly after his return, Abd el-Fattah's old tweets resurfaced, revealing a different side to his character. In these tweets, he expressed violent sentiments towards "all Zionists, including civilians," essentially targeting Jews. He also called for the murder of police officers and made sarcastic remarks about white people. These tweets, dating back to the Arab Spring, paint a picture of an individual with extreme views.
Nigel Farage, the populist insurgent, would have a field day with this story. Both Labour and the Conservatives have potentially wasted political capital on an activist with a history of public hate speech. At worst, the government has welcomed a provocateur who might continue to spread divisive rhetoric and incite violence.
In a twist, Abd el-Fattah apologized, claiming his tweets reflected the performative left-wing culture of early-2010s Twitter. He maintained that his offline activism focused on rejecting anti-Jewish speech, defending LGBTQ rights, and campaigning against police brutality. However, he also questioned why these tweets were republished now, suggesting a Zionist campaign.
The situation is particularly embarrassing for Starmer, who initially welcomed Abd el-Fattah with open arms. Starmer now claims ignorance of the old tweets, promising to review the information failures. It's hard to believe that the British civil service, with all its resources, didn't think to check his Twitter handle before campaigning for his release.
The British right is using this as an opportunity to criticize Abd el-Fattah and his celebrity supporters. They question why Starmer is welcoming a man who has never spent much time in Britain, abhors its geopolitical alliances, and seemingly dislikes the majority of its population. Farage and Kemi Badenoch, the current Conservative leader, have called for the revocation of his British citizenship.
The story has been politicized by both liberals and conservatives. Starmer and Liz Truss (in her previous incarnation) treated Abd el-Fattah as a symbol of Britain's enlightened attitude towards political dissent. Today, Truss and the populist right use him as an example to argue for tougher Muslim immigration policies in Europe.
The challenge is to look beyond this ideological battle and consider the case objectively. Abd el-Fattah's first public statement after his release was a complaint about Starmer not condemning Sisi's dictatorship. This highlights the complexities of international diplomacy.
British Jews have valid concerns about the state's efforts to free someone who has called for violence against them. The Jewish community is facing increased threats post-October 7 and the war in Gaza, with visible anti-Semitism on the rise, often from self-declared Islamists. Social media, including tweets like Abd el-Fattah's, plays a significant role in driving and reinforcing anti-Semitic extremism.
Abd el-Fattah could face prosecution for incitement to violence or hate speech if he repeats such sentiments now that he lives in Britain. The British state has taken action for less severe cases. However, taking away his British passport is a different matter. Citizenship, once granted, is a right, regardless of the holder's views.
Starmer's post about Abd el-Fattah's arrival was ill-advised, reflecting a lack of judgment and an obsession with process over outcome. Starmer, a former human rights lawyer, seems to believe that following the rules guarantees positive outcomes and eliminates complaints.
The decision to grant Abd el-Fattah citizenship and secure his release followed this pattern. Starmer celebrated the bureaucratic success without considering the political implications. He failed to imagine that a Middle Eastern activist, raised among Egyptian communist intelligentsia, might have worrisome opinions about Israel or Jews.
Right-wing populists argue that Muslims cannot be integrated into Europe due to differing values and loyalty to the ummah. This view ignores moderate Muslims like Sadiq Khan, who have successfully navigated Western liberalism. Abd el-Fattah's views, however, support the right-wing narrative.
While Britain's appetite for enforcing its values abroad is currently low, cases like this highlight the importance of thorough vetting before granting citizenship. Starmer and his predecessors were right to advocate for Abd el-Fattah's release, but framing his arrival as an unalloyed blessing was misguided. Starmer needs to think like a political and moral leader, not a procedure-obsessed human rights lawyer.
