Delga, one year later

Twenty kilometers separate the city of Dir Mouass, the district’s capital, and the village of Delga, which gained notoriety during the second half of last year.

During the half hour on the road, winding through agricultural land, I remember my first visit last August. Delga was a village in revolt, and the army and police forces were unable to subdue it, or even be present in it for months that witnessed the destruction of churches, homes and shops belonging to Copts — looted and burned due to their owners’ religious affiliations.

Religious leaders loyal to ousted President Mohamed Morsi championed rhetoric against the church and its role in the stormy changes that Egypt had experienced, weaving stories of the grip of Islamic movements on the village and security forces’ failure to enter it.

On my first visit — August 25, 2013 — I entered the village in disguise in a tuk tuk. The tension was palpable and the buildings were bleak, the owners of houses having fled them in fear of their lives. The writing on walls was a mixture of incitement against Copts, and critique of army leaders and security institutions, amid raised hopes of the return of “an Islamic state,” accompanied by outright insults and curses.

I was busy with the victims, documenting abuses and collecting testimonies of incitement, violence, murder, looting and kidnapping, and forced displacement. I observed the destruction and sought information about some of the stories of the village I had heard that had been turned into legends of resistance to the coup supporters by the media, especially after the tragedy of Iskandar Tos.

Tos, a citizen of Delga, was caught off guard when hundreds broke into his house. He fired a shot in the air from his gun. In response, he was killed, tied to a tractor and pulled through the streets, before being placed next to a nearby mosque. Later the assailants returned to mutilate his body again, before placing it in a garbage dump, and repeating the crime again. No one was able to bury the body until one of the Muslims in the village placed it among the graveyards. Some of the family members hid inside a barn until they were able to leave the village, having not been able to hold a funeral or religious service for his death.

During the visit I met with Father Abram Tanas, the only Christian clergyman remaining in the village. He didn’t escape as some of his Muslim neighbors hid him. I called him to arrange a meeting and went to the village, where, accompanied by him, I photographed traces of the attacks.

I met several citizens and was struck by around 20 adjoining houses belonging to Christians that were deserted and without windows or doors. Later I learnt that they were attacked by armed masked men, who threatened to kill their owners if they resisted and asked them to leave their houses and to never return. Then they looted them all, burned some of them and wrote Muslim names on them to indicate ownership. I talked to an old lady who was crying in terror and screaming, “My life’s work is lost. They stole everything and we cannot return to our homes.” This woman refused to accompany me into her home to record her testimony, saying, “They will kill me, son.” A number of victims gave testimonies about kidnapping and payments at gunpoint for presumed protection from armed attacks.

I remembered when I was threatened. During interviews with some of the victims and eyewitnesses, people asked about my identity. I refused to answer their questions and left the village by a different route, as per the advice of some villagers, as news spread about a gathering of people on the corner of the street where I entered. At the village of Zabara, a number of people with knives and batons found me. One of them was hiding a gun under his clothes. They stopped me, asked for the memory card of my camera and took it. When I told them that I was from the Ministry of Social Affairs and had come to conduct research to help those affected, one of them replied, laughing sarcastically, “What help? We are purging the village from dirt.” A few house owners tried to calm the situation and managed to get me back my card, after threatening that if I returned to the village, I would bear the consequences.

On my second visit the situation was different. The charged sectarian atmosphere had calmed considerably. Security forces were still present in the village and several politicians and executives had visited and promised to meet villagers’ needs, such as Ibrahim Mehleb, the minister of housing at the time, and Salah Ziada, the governor of Minya.

The purpose of the second visit was different. The ongoing violations, such as kidnappings and extortion did not concern me. I was more concerned with assessing the role of the government and other state agencies since the police entered the village on September 16 last year. Were they able to deal with the origins of the tension and had the process of rebuilding relationships started? Had the government implemented any of the development activities intended to compensate for the overwhelming lack of services in the village?

“God is here… Good is here… Christians are next.” This chant is still prevalent among the demonstrations of Sharia supporters, whose ability to mobilize has decreased. The average number of protesters does not exceed 100 citizens, increasing to several hundreds on Fridays. Sometimes they get into clashes with police forces in the village. At other times they walk around the streets, forcing shop owners to shut down and leave.

In a meeting at his house, Haj Mohamed Shawky, one of the prominent locals told me, “The situation is stable. Our problem is that there is a march everyday by people funded by the Brotherhood. It starts with 20 people and by the time they walk around the village, they collect a few more. When they go near the police station, they throw rocks and fireworks and the police respond with gas. We asked the police to arrest them and the officers said we don’t want more problems.”

The relation between Christians and Muslims in the village before the January 25 revolution was described as “cold” because of a lack of communication. This, in addition to what some people describe as “a feeling of weakness” among Christians, has resulted in fear and a desire to live subtle lives, one of the owners of the burned houses said.

The village has witnessed several sectarian incidents, the most prominent of which was on May 17,1993, when some villagers demolished two towers in the Virgin and Abram Church while it was being renovated, after incitement from security officers, according to other villagers. Three Copts were killed; two in a fight and the third, a child, was kidnapped and killed by a neighbor even after the ransom was paid in May 2013.

The slowing down of pro-Morsi protests in recent months and fewer attacks on properties does not mean that there has been a shift in tension inside the village. Grudges remain and the state is almost non existent. This is what Fathy, a middle school teacher in the village, meant when he said, “Religion is powerful and overwhelming among Egyptians. We have many families, of which around 1000 members were in Rabea. But Delga citizens are clever. When they sense danger, they retreat, and that is why none of them died during the incidents. [Pope] Tawadros was there during the coup speech. A religious person is furious when he feels that Christians were happy that Morsi left. They say we have to take revenge and as a religious person I reject this, but the whole village does not think alike.”

Mohamed Shawky called on his Christian friend at the village bakery, Makram Sadeq, to accompany me to the Virgin and Abram Church. A conversation took place between us, in which he asserted that his Muslim friend had saved him when an angry mob came close to his house. He called his Muslim friend, who came with his family armed with guns and prevented the aggressors from breaking into the house and bakery. This civil protection remained in place for several days until the situation stabilized.

The houses that I saw during my first visit, destroyed and burned, had been renovated and prepared to be inhabited again. They were painted white, but some demonstrators had written slogans on them supporting the ousted president including, “Your constitution is void. Legitimacy is coming. Rabea is a symbol of perseverance.” The government renovated the buildings. Some of the villagers said that the Coptic Sawiris family did this, but out of fear of stirring a backlash from Muslims in the village, did not take responsibility for it. What is noticeable is that the government did not give any monetary aid, or support in kind, such as electrical equipment to the victims. They were content with repainting the buildings and installing wooden doors and windows.

We reached the Virgin and Abram Church, a complex with three churches and a number of buildings surrounded by a wall. Nothing had changed since my first visit. All the buildings are still burned. The largest church, also partially destroyed, contains some rugs. Parts of it are crumbling, but the community prays inside it. A priest from the church went through a painful experience on August 14, when hundreds of angry men broke into his house. He went up to the third floor and jumped across to his Muslim neighbor, Talaat Aziz’s house. They burned his house after looting it.

Ayoub Youssef, pastor of the Mar Girgis Catholic Church, went through a similar experience in the village on July 1, 2013. Hours before Morsi was ousted, supporters attacked a building belonging to the Catholic Church, looted it, and then burned it. Father Ayoub also jumped across to his Muslim neighbor’s house until he was able to leave the village the following day.

The Orthodox priest talked with visible pessimism about the officials who visited the church, foremost among them Mehleb. They had agreed to renovate the church and help the people, but nothing happened. The priest talked with bitterness about his fear of going down to the street and walking around the village.

During my visit, I met with Father Ayoub, who asserted that security forces are present only by the police station. He said, “They have left the whole village without one soldier. The police are protecting themselves.” He added, “The situation was extremely bad before the police and army entered. It’s better after the army came, but there are still problems and people hold grudges against each other. Some citizens say that they will get us when the army leaves, as we pass by in the streets.” He spoke about the kidnappings and extortion, as Christian students started paying LE5 to their Muslim colleagues for protection.

Within this bleak picture, there is a ray of hope. Despite the tension, the village has witnessed two initiatives, the first last October when a family meeting was held in Minya, attended by 30 people from both sides to talk about the problems in the village. A first aid course was also held. Last April, a number of sheikhs from the Ministry of Endowments met with priests in the village. The Orthodox priest and the sheikhs of the Salafi movement did not attend out of fear and tension between them.

“Where do we start?” This is a question I directed at everyone I met. The answer was always similar. There was an agreement that the state was absent and does not perform its role adequately. This is the main reason for the anger against the state, especially in light of citizens’ support for religious movements, foremost among which, is the Muslim Brotherhood, which played a pivotal role in filling the gap left by the shortcomings of state institutions.

According to Osama Makram, a young Muslim man, before the January 25 revolution the village did not witness any political activities by Islamist groups such as the Brotherhood, with the exception of noticeable activity by the Gameya Shariya, who provided citizens with some services alongside its usual preaching (daawa) activities. Its founder in the village took part in the demonstrations in support of the Brotherhood.

According to the speculations of villagers that I met during my last two visits, over 100,000 people live in the village. Around 10 percent of them are Christian. There are over 100 mosques and five churches for all Christian sects. There is one secondary school and three middle schools, but no government hospital. The village is known for its trade and agricultural activities and is also famous for manufacturing pistols (a local weapon with limited abilities) in homes and small workshops. Illiteracy is up to 60 percent. The village suffers from the absence of sewage, poor educational and health services and contaminated water.

Despite state promises for development after security forces entered the village and officials visited it, nothing happened. Ziada, the governor of Minya, said in an interview with National Geographic, published on May 2, that American President Barak Obama is responsible for the attacks on churches and the property of Christians. The governor did not fulfil the promises he made to provide for the needs of the village and to compensate the victims.

Father Ayoub Youssef said, “Until now, Christians did not get any compensation. We talked to the governor several times and addressed the cabinet, but no positive steps have been taken. For example, Tos was killed, his house burnt and his family displaced. The government did not help his family. There are tens of other cases. In the same context, Shawky said, “We need support as Christians and Muslims. We need the government to develop and improve conditions. We need NGOs to improve services. Security alone will not solve the problems of the village.”