Saturday, 6 July 2013
Monday, 1 July 2013
البيان الأول للثورة
Source: tamarud.net
البيان الأول للثورة
باسم الله
باسم الشعب
باسم الثورة
باسم الشعب
باسم الثورة
باسم اكثر من 22 مليون مواطن
مصرى وقعوا على استمارة تمرد لسحب الثقة نيابة عن الشعب المصري نعلن اليوم
ان محمد محمد مرسى عيسى العياط لم يعد رئيسا شرعيا لجمهورية مصر العربية
ولذلك نعلن النقاط التالية
أولاً: يطلب الشعب المصري من
أعمدة مؤسسات الدولة الجيش والشرطة والقضاء أن ينحازوا بشكل واضح إلى
الإرادة الشعبية المتمثلة فى إحتشاد الجمعية العمومية للشعب المصرى فى
ميدان التحرير والإتحادية وكافة ميادين التحرير فى جميع المحافظات.
ثانيا: نعلن استمرار اعتصامنا في ميدان التحرير وأمام قصر الاتحادية وكل ميادين التحرير بكل المحافظات.
ثالثا: نؤكد على التزامنا
بالسلمية التامة لأن الدم المصرى كله حرام ولن نسمح لأحد أو تنظيم أو جماعة
إرهابية أن يجر وطننا الغالى مصر إلى حرب أهلية.
رابعا: نؤكد أنه لم يعد
بالإمكان القبول بأى حل وسط ولا بديل عن الإنهاء السلمى لسلطة الاخوان
والمتمثلة في مندوب مكتب الإرشاد محمد مرسى بقصر الاتحادية والدعوة لإجراء
إنتخابات رئاسية مبكرة.
خامسا : نمهل محمد محمد مرسى
عيسى العياط لموعد أقصاه الخامسة من مساء الثلاثاء القادم الموافق 2 يوليو
أن يغادر السلطة حتى تتمكن مؤسسات الدولة المصرية من الاستعداد لإجراء
انتخابات رئاسية مبكرة، وإلا فإن الجمعية العمومية للشعب المصري مدعوة إلى
ما يلي:
1- الاحتشاد في كل ميادين الجمهورية مع الزحف إلى قصر القبة
2- يعتبر هذا الموعد الخامسة من مساء الثلاثاء بداية الدعوة لعصيان مدني شامل من أجل تنفيذ إرادة الشعب المصري.
2- يعتبر هذا الموعد الخامسة من مساء الثلاثاء بداية الدعوة لعصيان مدني شامل من أجل تنفيذ إرادة الشعب المصري.
النصر للثورة .. المجد للشهداء
www.tamarud.net
القاهرة مساء 30 يونيو
2013
القاهرة مساء 30 يونيو
2013
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Thursday, 11 April 2013
Paul Sedra: "Has Citizenship Got a Future in Egypt?"
Originally published by Jadaliyya
The sectarian spectacle that dominated so much Egyptian television coverage – at least that of the private networks – on Sunday, was unprecedented in modern Egyptian history. Even at the lowest points of modern Coptic-Muslim relations, the Coptic Cathedral and Patriarchal headquarters have not experienced the sort of siege that was violently imposed by plainclothes assailants and their abettors in the police, as mourners commemorated the lives of four Christians lost to sectarian violence in the Qalyubiya village of Khusus a day prior.
I say “spectacle” not to minimize the human cost of the siege – at the time of writing, two individuals were said to have lost their lives and at least ninety had suffered injuries in the attack – but because, I suspect, the power of the images transmitted from the Cathedral siege may exceed even that of the images transmitted from Maspero during the military’s massacre of Copts there in October 2011. At stake was the very center of the Coptic Orthodox Church, where the relics of the Church’s founder, Saint Mark, are housed. For Copts to observe smoke rising from the Cathedral compound was thus profoundly shocking – to say nothing of the chilling sight of Copts, seeking to help protect the area, having to display their tattoo crosses to gain entrance to the compound once the siege had begun.
I have written before in these pages about Egyptian sectarianism, its modern origins and recent manifestations. The impulse to lay the blame for this sectarianism at the feet of the Muslim Brotherhood is strong and, in my view, not without justification, particularly given the sectarian incitement in which the organization has engaged since its rise to power. Indeed, only two weeks ago, Amnesty International issued a press release directed at Egypt’s rulers whose title read, “Egypt’s Coptic Christians must be protected from sectarian violence.”
But the language of that title points to a tendency that, I would venture, bears nearly as much responsibility for the current violence as the Brotherhood. The notion of “protection” referenced by Amnesty conjures up an image of Coptic Christians in Egypt as an inert, monolithic bloc – a bloc whose leadership is assumed to reside with the Church. What is missing here is the notion of citizenship – the notion of Copts as Egyptian citizens, equal before Egyptian law and the Egyptian state to their Muslim compatriots.
The irony of this language of “protection,” as deployed not only by Amnesty but a wide variety of human rights organizations, is that this language is central to the Muslim Brotherhood’s own conception of Copts and their place in Egyptian society. Indeed, if one is to take the constitution produced by a Brotherhood-dominated assembly as a guide, Egypt’s current rulers conceive of Copts not so much as equal citizens but as a distinctly sectarian constituency that is best left in the hands of the Church. For instance, Article 3 of the constitution vouchsafes control of the personal status affairs of the Coptic Orthodox to the Coptic Orthodox Patriarch, regardless of whether particular Copts are, in fact, believers or not.
All in all, the way in which Copts are discussed, both in Egyptian public discourse and in the international media, seems stuck in the nineteenth century, with commentators still relying on the conventional wisdoms of the millet paradigm – according to which Ottoman rulers relied upon clerical leaders to represent the political interests of their respective sects. Under these circumstances, how can one possibly have a meaningful conversation about citizenship – about how the Egyptian revolution might shape conceptions of Egyptian identity?
Despite the hopes that accompanied the January 25 Revolution in this regard, important conversations about citizenship simply are not happening in post-revolutionary Egypt. What makes this all the more remarkable is that, at nearly every previous revolutionary juncture in Egypt’s modern history – 1882, 1919, and 1952 – there was a serious and sustained engagement with the issue of citizenship. Indeed, one might have thought that, not least given its Christian minority, Egypt would have been the Arab uprising context most likely to confront the citizenship question.
And one cannot blame the near-complete absence of muwatina, or citizenship, from Egyptian public discourse on a lack of opportunities or catalysts for discussion: Quite apart from the Coptic-Muslim tensions that have plagued the period since the revolution, and quite apart from the constitution-writing exercise and subsequent referendum campaign, there was Essam al-Arian’s “invitation” to Israel’s Egyptian Jews to return to Egypt, as well as the controversy that has plagued the screening of Amir Ramses’s film Jews of Egypt in Egyptian cinemas. In the past two years, there have arisen countless “openings” to debates about citizenship, and with the rise of Egypt’s private independent media, there has emerged the space in which to have these debates. Yet, in the few places where they have occurred, conversations about Egyptian identity have remained strikingly unsophisticated and ill-informed.
I cannot help but wonder: Has citizenship got a future in Egypt?
The sectarian spectacle that dominated so much Egyptian television coverage – at least that of the private networks – on Sunday, was unprecedented in modern Egyptian history. Even at the lowest points of modern Coptic-Muslim relations, the Coptic Cathedral and Patriarchal headquarters have not experienced the sort of siege that was violently imposed by plainclothes assailants and their abettors in the police, as mourners commemorated the lives of four Christians lost to sectarian violence in the Qalyubiya village of Khusus a day prior.
I say “spectacle” not to minimize the human cost of the siege – at the time of writing, two individuals were said to have lost their lives and at least ninety had suffered injuries in the attack – but because, I suspect, the power of the images transmitted from the Cathedral siege may exceed even that of the images transmitted from Maspero during the military’s massacre of Copts there in October 2011. At stake was the very center of the Coptic Orthodox Church, where the relics of the Church’s founder, Saint Mark, are housed. For Copts to observe smoke rising from the Cathedral compound was thus profoundly shocking – to say nothing of the chilling sight of Copts, seeking to help protect the area, having to display their tattoo crosses to gain entrance to the compound once the siege had begun.
I have written before in these pages about Egyptian sectarianism, its modern origins and recent manifestations. The impulse to lay the blame for this sectarianism at the feet of the Muslim Brotherhood is strong and, in my view, not without justification, particularly given the sectarian incitement in which the organization has engaged since its rise to power. Indeed, only two weeks ago, Amnesty International issued a press release directed at Egypt’s rulers whose title read, “Egypt’s Coptic Christians must be protected from sectarian violence.”
But the language of that title points to a tendency that, I would venture, bears nearly as much responsibility for the current violence as the Brotherhood. The notion of “protection” referenced by Amnesty conjures up an image of Coptic Christians in Egypt as an inert, monolithic bloc – a bloc whose leadership is assumed to reside with the Church. What is missing here is the notion of citizenship – the notion of Copts as Egyptian citizens, equal before Egyptian law and the Egyptian state to their Muslim compatriots.
The irony of this language of “protection,” as deployed not only by Amnesty but a wide variety of human rights organizations, is that this language is central to the Muslim Brotherhood’s own conception of Copts and their place in Egyptian society. Indeed, if one is to take the constitution produced by a Brotherhood-dominated assembly as a guide, Egypt’s current rulers conceive of Copts not so much as equal citizens but as a distinctly sectarian constituency that is best left in the hands of the Church. For instance, Article 3 of the constitution vouchsafes control of the personal status affairs of the Coptic Orthodox to the Coptic Orthodox Patriarch, regardless of whether particular Copts are, in fact, believers or not.
All in all, the way in which Copts are discussed, both in Egyptian public discourse and in the international media, seems stuck in the nineteenth century, with commentators still relying on the conventional wisdoms of the millet paradigm – according to which Ottoman rulers relied upon clerical leaders to represent the political interests of their respective sects. Under these circumstances, how can one possibly have a meaningful conversation about citizenship – about how the Egyptian revolution might shape conceptions of Egyptian identity?
Despite the hopes that accompanied the January 25 Revolution in this regard, important conversations about citizenship simply are not happening in post-revolutionary Egypt. What makes this all the more remarkable is that, at nearly every previous revolutionary juncture in Egypt’s modern history – 1882, 1919, and 1952 – there was a serious and sustained engagement with the issue of citizenship. Indeed, one might have thought that, not least given its Christian minority, Egypt would have been the Arab uprising context most likely to confront the citizenship question.
And one cannot blame the near-complete absence of muwatina, or citizenship, from Egyptian public discourse on a lack of opportunities or catalysts for discussion: Quite apart from the Coptic-Muslim tensions that have plagued the period since the revolution, and quite apart from the constitution-writing exercise and subsequent referendum campaign, there was Essam al-Arian’s “invitation” to Israel’s Egyptian Jews to return to Egypt, as well as the controversy that has plagued the screening of Amir Ramses’s film Jews of Egypt in Egyptian cinemas. In the past two years, there have arisen countless “openings” to debates about citizenship, and with the rise of Egypt’s private independent media, there has emerged the space in which to have these debates. Yet, in the few places where they have occurred, conversations about Egyptian identity have remained strikingly unsophisticated and ill-informed.
I cannot help but wonder: Has citizenship got a future in Egypt?
Wednesday, 20 March 2013
Paul Sedra: "Iraq Through the Lens of 1882"
Originally published by OpenCanada
As a Middle East historian, I cannot help but think about historical parallels to the U.S. invasion and occupation of Iraq. The one that leaps consistently to mind is the British invasion and occupation of Egypt in 1882. Not unlike the ‘shock-and-awe’ campaign on Baghdad with which the Americans began their assault on Iraq, the invasion of Egypt began with a brutal bombardment of the port city of Alexandria, undertaken from British ships in the Mediterranean, during which large swaths of the city were leveled. Not unlike the campaign of lies regarding weapons of mass destruction with which the American invasion was justified, the British invasion was in large part precipitated by a campaign of lies regarding Egyptian attacks on Europeans and their interests. Not unlike the ex-post-facto justifications offered for the American invasion, to the effect that Iraq was delivered from dictatorship through Western beneficence and would thenceforth enjoy democratic governance, the British invaders purported to offer Egyptians the opportunity to learn how best to govern themselves by following their invaders’ example.
The British reaped considerable rewards from their occupation, ensuring a steady supply of Egyptian cotton for the mills of Lancashire as well as security for the Suez Canal, which reduced the journey to India by 6,000 km. The occupiers sought to avoid the appearance of ruling Egyptians directly, opting to have their diplomatic representatives in the country exert whatever pressure was necessary on Egyptian leaders in order for their prerogatives to be respected. Nevertheless, the British swiftly earned the enmity of Egyptians. The colonial aggression and interference in Egypt stoked a nationalist movement that would finally expel the British military from Egyptian soil in 1954.
The Americans made much of their withdrawal of troops from Iraq in 2011, with the final contingent of soldiers departing the country on December 18 of that year. But they left in their wake the largest U.S. embassy in the world, with a staff that has reached as high as 16,000. The irony of having left such an enormous diplomatic presence behind is that the actual influence of the Americans in the country has practically collapsed, given the fierce resentment about the conduct of the U.S. occupation that lingers in the country – a resentment that has emboldened and empowered the Iranian state in cultivating its influence in Iraqi government, social, and cultural circles. One need only glance at the latest figures of the Iraq Body Count project – between roughly 112,000 and 122,000 civilian deaths from violence since the invasion – to grasp the ferocity of that resentment.
But this comparison of Egypt 1882 with Iraq 2003 has important limits. Despite having experienced a seven-decade-long colonial occupation, Egyptians never faced the level of violence under the British that Iraqis faced under the Americans. And here I speak not simply of physical violence, that is, violence against persons or property. I speak too of a more figurative violence, the obliteration of Iraqi heritage. The American occupiers stood by as countless Iraqi artifacts, manuscripts, and books were stolen or destroyed. Moreover, they have appropriated vast swaths of Iraqi history for themselves, having transferred countless documents of the Baath regime to their own archives. After all of the brutal physical violence of the past ten years, I suspect that it is this figurative violence, this obliteration of Iraqi heritage, that will define this dark period in Iraqi memory for years to come.
As a Middle East historian, I cannot help but think about historical parallels to the U.S. invasion and occupation of Iraq. The one that leaps consistently to mind is the British invasion and occupation of Egypt in 1882. Not unlike the ‘shock-and-awe’ campaign on Baghdad with which the Americans began their assault on Iraq, the invasion of Egypt began with a brutal bombardment of the port city of Alexandria, undertaken from British ships in the Mediterranean, during which large swaths of the city were leveled. Not unlike the campaign of lies regarding weapons of mass destruction with which the American invasion was justified, the British invasion was in large part precipitated by a campaign of lies regarding Egyptian attacks on Europeans and their interests. Not unlike the ex-post-facto justifications offered for the American invasion, to the effect that Iraq was delivered from dictatorship through Western beneficence and would thenceforth enjoy democratic governance, the British invaders purported to offer Egyptians the opportunity to learn how best to govern themselves by following their invaders’ example.
The British reaped considerable rewards from their occupation, ensuring a steady supply of Egyptian cotton for the mills of Lancashire as well as security for the Suez Canal, which reduced the journey to India by 6,000 km. The occupiers sought to avoid the appearance of ruling Egyptians directly, opting to have their diplomatic representatives in the country exert whatever pressure was necessary on Egyptian leaders in order for their prerogatives to be respected. Nevertheless, the British swiftly earned the enmity of Egyptians. The colonial aggression and interference in Egypt stoked a nationalist movement that would finally expel the British military from Egyptian soil in 1954.
The Americans made much of their withdrawal of troops from Iraq in 2011, with the final contingent of soldiers departing the country on December 18 of that year. But they left in their wake the largest U.S. embassy in the world, with a staff that has reached as high as 16,000. The irony of having left such an enormous diplomatic presence behind is that the actual influence of the Americans in the country has practically collapsed, given the fierce resentment about the conduct of the U.S. occupation that lingers in the country – a resentment that has emboldened and empowered the Iranian state in cultivating its influence in Iraqi government, social, and cultural circles. One need only glance at the latest figures of the Iraq Body Count project – between roughly 112,000 and 122,000 civilian deaths from violence since the invasion – to grasp the ferocity of that resentment.
But this comparison of Egypt 1882 with Iraq 2003 has important limits. Despite having experienced a seven-decade-long colonial occupation, Egyptians never faced the level of violence under the British that Iraqis faced under the Americans. And here I speak not simply of physical violence, that is, violence against persons or property. I speak too of a more figurative violence, the obliteration of Iraqi heritage. The American occupiers stood by as countless Iraqi artifacts, manuscripts, and books were stolen or destroyed. Moreover, they have appropriated vast swaths of Iraqi history for themselves, having transferred countless documents of the Baath regime to their own archives. After all of the brutal physical violence of the past ten years, I suspect that it is this figurative violence, this obliteration of Iraqi heritage, that will define this dark period in Iraqi memory for years to come.
Thursday, 14 March 2013
Paul Sedra: "Pope Tawadros II and the Question of Egyptian Sectarianism"
Originally published by Tahrir Squared
During the six decades of the military
dictatorship in Egypt, there were usually two contexts in which Egyptians
encountered the question of Coptic-Muslim relations in the media. The first was
on national, Muslim, or Christian holidays, during which the President of the
Republic and the Grand Imam of Al-Azhar would offer their congratulations to
the Patriarch of the Coptic Orthodox Church, or vice versa, together with a few
carefully worded remarks affirming the national unity of the Egyptian people
across lines of faith. The second was on instances of sectarian violence, most
often distant from the capital and involving either the purportedly unlicensed
renovation of a church or a purportedly forced conversion, during which the
Grand Imam and the Patriarch would denounce violence and refuse the very
possibility of sectarian division within Egypt.
One of the great hopes of the 25 January
revolution, in particular quarters of both the Coptic and Muslim communities of
Egypt, was that the period of transition away from authoritarianism would offer
an opportunity to rework the well worn patterns of sectarian relations in the
country, in such a way as to confront problems in Coptic-Muslim relations in a
serious and sustained way. Yet now, only two years after the revolution, the
old patterns have reemerged with precious little alteration from the days of
the dictatorship. The Grand Imam, Ahmad al-Tayyib, recently remarked that
“Islam and Christianity are both religions of love, peace and forgiveness that
don’t result in the making of extremists.” Roughly 50 km from Aswan, in the
town of Kom Ombo, rumors about the conversion of a Muslim woman to Christianity
prompted attacks on the Church of Mari Girgis with stones and Molotov
cocktails, forcing the clergy to cancel all Christian gatherings apart from
mass. And in the last week of February, the Shubra al-Khaima Church of Abu
Maqar, in Qalyubiya Governorate, was the site of a siege undertaken by Islamists,
who sought to halt renovation work on the church’s annex – work that had all
the necessary permissions from state officials.
At least part of the challenge in undertaking
the paradigm shift in sectarian relations that Coptic and Muslim activists have
sought is that this is a particularly sensitive time for the central
institution within the Coptic community, the Coptic Orthodox Church. Beyond the
upheaval that all Egyptians have faced in the past two years with the political
reverberations of the 25 January revolution, the Coptic Orthodox have witnessed
a major leadership transition within the Church, given the passing of Pope
Shenouda III and the ordination, in November of this past year, of his
successor, Pope Tawadros II. There are both Coptic commentators within Egypt,
and human rights activists beyond Egypt’s borders, who have spoken of the
particular sense of insecurity that this confluence of transitions – in Church
and nation – has occasioned within the Coptic community. Emigration of Copts from
Egypt has become a great concern in these circles, with numbers ranging from
tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of emigrant Copts frequently cited
with minimal substantiation.
One could, of course, view this confluence of
transitions as an opportunity rather than a threat – and the proliferation of
Coptic civil society organizations since the revolution would appear to suggest
that countless Copts have indeed seized upon an opportunity in the past two
years, to represent their concerns in Egyptian public life independently from
both the state and the Church. However, given the influence of the Coptic
Orthodox Church within the Coptic community – an influence that grew
particularly quickly under the leadership of Pope Shenouda, and for which he
will remain long remembered – the question of Church leadership is one that
will significantly impact Coptic-Muslim relations for the foreseeable future.
This has occasioned much, often frenzied, speculation about what approach
Shenouda’s successor, Tawadros, will adopt in stewarding the Church as an
institution.
Given that Tawadros has occupied the
Patriarchal seat for only a matter of months, my thoughts on his approach are
necessarily preliminary and highly speculative. Nonetheless, in light of
several of the steps he has taken thus far in the post, one can safely say that
he is paying close attention to the example set by his predecessor, Shenouda.
For instance, Tawadros has embraced the practice that Shenouda initially
developed when he served as Bishop of Education, and leads a discussion
directed largely at young people in the Cathedral each week, intended to help
guide his flock in applying Christian principles to their everyday lives. To my
mind, this bespeaks a commitment to Shenouda’s notion that the Church should
have an expansive role in the everyday lives of Coptic Orthodox parishioners.
Accordingly, Shenouda’s program of developing and enlarging Church
institutions, both within Egypt and in the Coptic diaspora, looks set to
continue through the leadership of Tawadros.
Further, much like his predecessor, Tawadros
appears committed to taking on a visible and rather outspoken approach to the
leadership of the Church. Shortly after his rise to the Patriarchal seat, he
gave an extensive series of interviews to the Egyptian media, several of which
were featured in the major talk shows of Egypt’s burgeoning private television
landscape. And again upon Coptic Christmas, Pope Tawadros was not reticent or
retiring in his approach to the media: Notably, on 6 January 2013, he gave an interview
to Al-Jazeera English in which he called for an end to street protests as a
means by which to restore stability to the country. This degree of visibility
and outspokenness has provoked active concern in those quarters of the Coptic
community seeking a less politicized Patriarchate. On 20 February 2013, a
contingent of Coptic youth ventured so far as to confront Tawadros after his
weekly discussion at the Cathedral in Cairo, insisting that he withdraw from
politics and focus on the realm of the spiritual. This was a response to
statements attributed to – and subsequently denied by – the Pope, to the effect
that the civil disobedience campaigns ongoing in various parts of the country
were futile.
Whatever the Patriarch’s particular position on
civil disobedience, his previous interview with Al-Jazeera English clearly signaled
that he intends to engage in explicitly political debates, and will not
withdraw to the spiritual realm demanded by the protesters of 20 February.
Indeed, Tawadros has left little room for doubt as to his position on the
constitutional question that has so convulsed Egypt over the past several
months, describing
the document as “discriminatory” and inconsistent with the notion of equal
citizenship for Copts. One might venture to suggest that the Patriarch is
developing a coalition of Christians to support his view in the matter, having
convened the United Council for Egyptian Churches – embracing the Evangelical,
Catholic, and Greek Orthodox rites – in an inaugural meeting on 18 February 2013.
What might this visible and outspoken approach
to leadership on the part of Pope Tawadros II mean for Coptic-Muslim relations
in Egypt? It is far too soon to say. In the wake of the 25 January revolution,
Tawadros faces an almost unprecedented level of expectation among his flock in
the Coptic community. With the ascendancy of Islamists in Egyptian politics,
Copts are facing uncertain times – and there are profound divisions within the
community about how best to approach these uncertain times. As a result, the
Patriarch faces a struggle not simply with the Muslim Brotherhood rulers of
Egypt, but with his own people as well. While Tawadros seems prepared to
emulate his predecessor, Shenouda, and intervene in the political realm, there
are Copts who would prefer that the Church steer clear of controversy and leave
politics to Coptic laypeople. The outcome of this intra-communal struggle will
have an enormous impact not simply on the Copts, but on Egypt as a whole.
Saturday, 23 February 2013
Paul Sedra: "Egypt's State of Siege"
Originally published by Egypt Independent
Egypt’s foreign reserves have fallen to a startlingly low US$13.6 billion — the lowest level for reserves since 1997, and less than the sum necessary to finance the country’s imports for three months.
The black market rate of exchange for the pound is nearing LE7 to the US dollar. The official inflation rate in the cost of food stands at 8.2 percent per annum. Fuel shortages have become a fact of life in Egypt, with lengthy lines for diesel practically routine. Meanwhile, the supply minister is beginning to discuss the idea of bread rationing, proposing a limit of three loaves a day per person.
Amid these indications of social and economic crisis on a virtually unparalleled scale in the country’s modern history, Egypt’s formal political scene is being afflicted by an equally unparalleled paralysis. Since President Mohamed Morsy issued his 22 November constitutional declaration, two factions emerged in the formal political realm that are, for all intents and purposes, unwilling to negotiate. As if the divisions were not already clear enough, each faction is now represented by a “front” — the opposition’s National Salvation Front and presidential allies the National Conscience Front.
Making a mockery of the formal political realm’s paralysis is the intense activity of the informal political realm — the politics of the street. Indeed, ever since the president’s November declaration, not only has the pace of the marches and protests become unyielding, not only has the flashpoint of resistance shifted from Tahrir Square to the Ettehadiya and Qobba Presidential Palaces, and not only have previously unseen bands of protesters like the Black Bloc emerged, but the tally of injured, tortured, humiliated and killed has grown from Friday to Friday.
And yet again, much like the desperate economic situation, the country’s desperate streets appear to have no power to compel the formal political class to act. That class’ paralysis has remained largely unaffected by the starkly contrasting movement on the streets. There is a peculiar absurdity about a government that is reduced to berating rural mothers for their purportedly poor hygiene.
One could attribute such paralysis — and the absurd admonitions that seek to fill the void — to incompetence, inexperience or both. And without doubt, these factors are important to consider. Egypt is in entirely uncharted political territory, after all.
But the degree of paralysis — the refusal to act in the face of such monumental challenges — suggests a greater root than simply incompetence or inexperience. In this context, I cannot help but recall the ideas regarding “disaster capitalism” recently set forth by Naomi Klein, most notably in her book “The Shock Doctrine.”
According to Klein, in roughly the last 50 years, societies suffering from various forms of political, social and indeed environmental turmoil have become vulnerable, depending on political circumstances, to economic reengineering in a neo-liberal mold. Ideologues following in the footsteps of American economist Milton Friedman have taken advantage of disasters, ranging from Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans to the invasion and occupation of Iraq, to introduce stark departures in social and economic policy. These departures have promoted deregulation and privatization as difficult but necessary “shocks” to the system, which would purportedly lead the given society away from crisis and back to prosperity.
Given the statistics listed above, there is little doubt that Egypt is well on the way to a “disaster” situation, if it is not actually in one already. The inaction of the president and the government suggests, to my mind, not merely negligence, but a strategy to seize upon “disaster” as an opportunity — in political terms, to ensure the dominance of Islamists and particularly the Brotherhood for years to come, and in economic terms, to rid Egypt of the last vestiges of statism and redefine Egyptian neo-liberalism to the Brotherhood’s benefit.
Of course, none of this is to suggest that there is a blueprint to this effect in the Brotherhood supreme guide’s office. What I would insist upon, however, is that the failure of the president and his allies to take the smallest steps to avert disaster amounts to a state of siege upon all Egyptians.
While the president may bargain that the National Conscience Front will balance and hold off the National Salvation Front until parliamentary elections are held, one wonders whether he has bargained for the power of the street. After all, he and his Brothers were absent on 25 January 2011. Where will they find themselves as the next revolution begins?
Egypt’s foreign reserves have fallen to a startlingly low US$13.6 billion — the lowest level for reserves since 1997, and less than the sum necessary to finance the country’s imports for three months.
The black market rate of exchange for the pound is nearing LE7 to the US dollar. The official inflation rate in the cost of food stands at 8.2 percent per annum. Fuel shortages have become a fact of life in Egypt, with lengthy lines for diesel practically routine. Meanwhile, the supply minister is beginning to discuss the idea of bread rationing, proposing a limit of three loaves a day per person.
Amid these indications of social and economic crisis on a virtually unparalleled scale in the country’s modern history, Egypt’s formal political scene is being afflicted by an equally unparalleled paralysis. Since President Mohamed Morsy issued his 22 November constitutional declaration, two factions emerged in the formal political realm that are, for all intents and purposes, unwilling to negotiate. As if the divisions were not already clear enough, each faction is now represented by a “front” — the opposition’s National Salvation Front and presidential allies the National Conscience Front.
Making a mockery of the formal political realm’s paralysis is the intense activity of the informal political realm — the politics of the street. Indeed, ever since the president’s November declaration, not only has the pace of the marches and protests become unyielding, not only has the flashpoint of resistance shifted from Tahrir Square to the Ettehadiya and Qobba Presidential Palaces, and not only have previously unseen bands of protesters like the Black Bloc emerged, but the tally of injured, tortured, humiliated and killed has grown from Friday to Friday.
And yet again, much like the desperate economic situation, the country’s desperate streets appear to have no power to compel the formal political class to act. That class’ paralysis has remained largely unaffected by the starkly contrasting movement on the streets. There is a peculiar absurdity about a government that is reduced to berating rural mothers for their purportedly poor hygiene.
One could attribute such paralysis — and the absurd admonitions that seek to fill the void — to incompetence, inexperience or both. And without doubt, these factors are important to consider. Egypt is in entirely uncharted political territory, after all.
But the degree of paralysis — the refusal to act in the face of such monumental challenges — suggests a greater root than simply incompetence or inexperience. In this context, I cannot help but recall the ideas regarding “disaster capitalism” recently set forth by Naomi Klein, most notably in her book “The Shock Doctrine.”
According to Klein, in roughly the last 50 years, societies suffering from various forms of political, social and indeed environmental turmoil have become vulnerable, depending on political circumstances, to economic reengineering in a neo-liberal mold. Ideologues following in the footsteps of American economist Milton Friedman have taken advantage of disasters, ranging from Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans to the invasion and occupation of Iraq, to introduce stark departures in social and economic policy. These departures have promoted deregulation and privatization as difficult but necessary “shocks” to the system, which would purportedly lead the given society away from crisis and back to prosperity.
Given the statistics listed above, there is little doubt that Egypt is well on the way to a “disaster” situation, if it is not actually in one already. The inaction of the president and the government suggests, to my mind, not merely negligence, but a strategy to seize upon “disaster” as an opportunity — in political terms, to ensure the dominance of Islamists and particularly the Brotherhood for years to come, and in economic terms, to rid Egypt of the last vestiges of statism and redefine Egyptian neo-liberalism to the Brotherhood’s benefit.
Of course, none of this is to suggest that there is a blueprint to this effect in the Brotherhood supreme guide’s office. What I would insist upon, however, is that the failure of the president and his allies to take the smallest steps to avert disaster amounts to a state of siege upon all Egyptians.
While the president may bargain that the National Conscience Front will balance and hold off the National Salvation Front until parliamentary elections are held, one wonders whether he has bargained for the power of the street. After all, he and his Brothers were absent on 25 January 2011. Where will they find themselves as the next revolution begins?
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