Al Jazeera English producer Baher Mohamed, who faces terrorism charges for his reporting, hugs his daughter Fairouz and son Hazem on Feb. 25 at his family apartment in the Sheikh Zayed district on the outskirts of Cairo. (Scott Nelson/For The Washington Post) SHEIKH ZAYED, Egypt — Al Jazeera journalist Baher Mohamed knows that at any moment he could be sent back to jail.
But for now he will enjoy the perks of life as a free man: eating home-cooked meals, basking in the sunshine, kissing his children goodnight.
After more than a year in prison, Mohamed was released last month while he awaits retrial on terror charges for his work with the Qatar-based Al Jazeera English channel.
Mohamed, 31, was apprehended with Al Jazeera colleagues Peter Greste and Mohamed Fahmy in December 2013. The arrests marked the beginning of a long nightmare for the journalists, caught in a bitter dispute between Egypt and Qatar over the latter’s support of the ousted Muslim Brotherhood.
In January, an appeals judge overturned an earlier verdict sentencing the reporters to up to a decade in prison. Greste, an Australian, was later freed under a law allowing Egypt to deport convicts with foreign passports. Fahmy also has Canadian citizenship and recently hired celebrity lawyer Amal Clooney to defend him.
But for Mohamed, an Egyptian, there is no such recourse.
Mohamed’s plight underscores the pressure Egyptians face under a repressive government that has shown little tolerance for dissent. Egypt’s once-boisterous press corps, too, has either rallied behind authorities or risked intimidation and censorship. According to the Paris-based advocacy group Reporters Without Borders, media workers in Egypt “are among the leading victims of the regime’s authoritarian policies.”
“What we have now is a cruel, vicious state that is lashing out and tightening its grip around press freedom and freedom of expression,” said Egyptian rights lawyer Negad al-Borai. “There are random travel bans and arbitrary arrests. There are many laws being used against journalists.”
Egyptian officials have pointed to the rise in armed attacks on security forces as evidence the country cannot afford further instability. The government here has blamed the Muslim Brotherhood — whose leaders the military deposed in 2013 — for the increasing violence. And because Qatar backed the Islamists while they were in power, Egypt sees Al Jazeera as a mouthpiece for Brotherhood politicians.
“I knew the regime didn’t like Al Jazeera, and I knew the way the regime was treating all journalists,” said Mohamed, who has also covered stories in Lebanon, Libya and Yemen. “But I was willing to do my job — to cover protests and be in the street.”
“Without press, there’s no democracy,” he said. “So I took the risks.”
Mohamed has indeed cast his own struggle as part of a larger battle for press freedom both in Egypt and around the world.
The Committee to Protect Journalists, a New York-based watchdog group, says there are at least nine journalists currently languishing in Egyptian prisons. Mohamed says he is pushing hard for their freedom.
“I need to speak more about press freedom,” he said. “This is the only pressure I feel — that I need to do more.”
But as he sat at home in an east Cairo suburb, amid cheerful signs welcoming his release, Mohamed also said he has struggled to cope with his newfound freedom. Perhaps worse is the foreboding feeling that the liberty will be short-lived.
“I’m trying to enjoy everything. I’m supposed to be happy,” Mohamed said as two of his children romped by his side. “But when I look up at the sky, or at people on the street, I still feel like something is wrong.”
Each night, Mohamed must appear at the local police precinct to prove he has not fled the country. If he is late, they will haul him back to jail. He often waits hours for the station chief to arrive and sign off on his presence.
Mohamed’s wife, 30-year old Jehan Rashed, says her husband now grows tired quickly, and is irritated by noise after the solitary quiet of prison.
Just a day earlier, Mohamed says, for the first time he was able to coax his 6-month-old son to sleep. Rashed gave birth to their new baby while Mohamed was incarcerated.
“There is this fear," he said of his daily life in Cairo. “But maybe it will disappear with time.”
If not, he said, “maybe there is a role for me to fight for press freedom in prison.”
Heba Habib contributed reporting.
Erin Cunningham is an Egypt-based correspondent for The Post. She previously covered conflicts in the Middle East and Afghanistan for the Christian Science Monitor, GlobalPost and The National.