The recent arrest of Sohila Tarek Hassan Haggag, an Italian-Egyptian belly dancer known online as Linda Martino, has ignited renewed debates over freedom of expression, cultural norms, and morality laws in Egypt. Detained on June 22 at Cairo International Airport, Haggag’s arrest stems from videos posted to Instagram in which she dances in what authorities describe as “indecent clothing” using “seductive techniques.”
With over 2.2 million Instagram followers, the case has gained international attention and sparked concern among human rights groups and supporters of artistic freedom. This incident marks yet another chapter in Egypt’s ongoing moral crackdown under President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi’s administration.
Despite having Italian citizenship and a strong online presence, Haggag had chosen to return to her native Egypt to pursue a dancing career after separating from her Italian partner. While her decision seemed to symbolize a cultural reconnection, it also placed her within a legal environment increasingly intolerant of what the state deems morally objectionable.
The repercussions of her arrest—expected to keep her behind bars for at least two weeks—highlight the intersection of social conservatism, digital expression, and state control in modern Egypt.
A High-Profile Arrest Amid a Broader Crackdown
Sohila Tarek Hassan Haggag’s arrest at the Cairo airport wasn’t an isolated event. She joins a growing list of female entertainers—especially belly dancers—who have been detained, fined, or imprisoned under vague morality and cybercrime laws. Prosecutors in Cairo charged Haggag with inciting vice and violating societal norms, citing her provocative outfits and dance styles in videos she had posted on Instagram. The state argues that such content undermines public decency and corrupts traditional values.
Authorities also noted that Haggag was found in possession of a “substantial” amount of cash at the time of her arrest, though this has not yet been linked to any financial charges. Investigators say her Instagram account, which portrays her as “More than you can handle,” exhibits an intention to use her platform for explicit content and self-promotion in ways that contradict Egypt’s conservative social codes.
Belly dancer Linda Martino, born in Egypt with an Italian passport, was arrested in Egypt for "offending morality" for her dances. We must boycott all IsIamic countries. pic.twitter.com/Gjo1XKUWZx
— RadioGenoa (@RadioGenoa) July 7, 2025
The timing of her arrest is not accidental. Since President Sisi came to power, Egypt has embarked on a sweeping moral crackdown targeting not just political dissent but also perceived social deviance. In particular, social media influencers and female performers have been frequently targeted, their online activity scrutinized and criminalized. The message is clear: public morality, as defined by the state, must not be challenged—even in digital spaces.
Cultural Tensions in the Age of Instagram
Haggag’s case illustrates the growing tension between traditional values and digital-age expression in Egypt. Belly dancing, while historically a part of Egyptian cultural heritage, has increasingly come under fire for what authorities claim are modern excesses. Critics argue that many dancers now use sexually suggestive movements and revealing attire that crosses the line into indecency. But where that line lies is far from clear.
Social media has complicated this conversation. Platforms like Instagram provide entertainers with a direct audience—and a level of fame and independence that challenges conventional gatekeepers. Haggag, with her millions of followers, is not merely a performer but an influencer. Her reach and popularity give her power, which some believe the state feels compelled to curtail.
This conflict reflects a broader pattern seen in other Middle Eastern and North African countries, where young women, especially those from conservative societies, find themselves in legal trouble for expressing themselves online. The use of cybercrime laws—often vaguely worded—allows governments to frame personal expression as a threat to public order or decency. In many cases, these laws are applied disproportionately to women.

The Italian embassy in Cairo has demanded access to Haggag and called for her release, raising diplomatic concerns over the treatment of dual nationals. Meanwhile, human rights organizations have condemned the arrest, calling it another instance of Egypt weaponizing ambiguous cyberlaws against women. These organizations argue that the laws violate basic freedoms of expression and privacy, and that the arrests are often politically motivated.
Egypt’s cybercrime law, passed in 2018, has been widely criticized for its broad language. It allows authorities to detain anyone who operates an online platform or account that is perceived to “endanger public morals” or “threaten public security.” In practice, this has meant that influencers, dancers, singers, and even private citizens can be imprisoned for content that may be entirely legal in other jurisdictions.
In one notable precedent, dancer Sama el-Masry was sentenced in 2020 to three years in prison and fined 300,000 Egyptian pounds after allegedly posting provocative content online. She denied the charges, saying that the videos had been stolen and posted without her consent. Such cases reveal the fragile line between digital privacy and state surveillance in Egypt.
Haggag’s situation falls squarely into this pattern. Though her posts were clearly public and self-produced, the criminality ascribed to them is subjective and rooted in moral judgments rather than clear legal standards. This makes defense challenging, as the accused must navigate both legal and cultural frameworks that are stacked against them.
A Broader Debate on Women’s Autonomy and Artistic Freedom
While the Egyptian government maintains that these arrests are necessary to uphold social values, critics argue that such actions disproportionately affect women and reflect deeper anxieties about gender roles, autonomy, and modernity. Belly dancers, despite their cultural legacy in Egypt, now find themselves targets of state discipline precisely because their profession involves a level of bodily expression that challenges patriarchal norms.

This crackdown is not just about the law; it is about power—who has the right to define morality, and who gets to express themselves publicly. For women like Haggag, who combine fame, sexuality, and independence, the risk is high. Their presence in public life challenges the status quo, and their visibility makes them vulnerable to being made examples of.
The fact that these arrests continue, even amid international criticism, shows that Egypt’s current leadership is doubling down on a conservative social agenda. Whether this will deter future performers or embolden new forms of resistance remains to be seen.
As the digital age accelerates and more Egyptians gain access to social media, the state’s efforts to control online content are likely to increase. But the backlash is growing, too. Younger generations—especially women—are more connected, more aware of global norms, and more vocal about their rights. Arrests like that of Sohila Tarek Hassan Haggag serve both as cautionary tales and rallying points for activists and artists demanding reform.
The international dimension of Haggag’s arrest, given her Italian citizenship and global audience, may amplify scrutiny of Egypt’s human rights record. Whether this will translate into legal changes is uncertain, but the pressure is building. For now, the fate of one dancer encapsulates a national struggle over identity, control, and the meaning of freedom in the 21st century.