The Different Flavors of Protests in Egypt

A father took his son to the zoo. On the way the young boy saw a giraffe, he asked his father if he could come closer. The father took the son closer and even had the zoo keeper give his son a carrot to feed the giraffe. The son was pleased. As they crossed the tiger’s cage the boy asked his father if he could do the same, but the father said no. The boy looked disappointed and asked his father why he could do that with the giraffes but not the tiger. The father responded kindly to his son and said, it may look like it’s the same, but there’s a difference. You need to look closely and you need to understand. 

Photo: Hossam el-Hamalawy

Context is everything. To understand where we are at the moment, we need to understand why people took to the street. It is also vital that we understand the differences between January 25, 2011, June 30, 2013 and protests in support of ousted president Mohamed Morsi. 

January 25 was motivated primarily in response to police brutality. Alongside the objection to brutal police practices, however, there was a desire for real change.  Chants for bread and freedom were an integral part of the protests, and the triumph of these demands would have served only the people. January 25 was unparalleled because people were fighting every state institution, including the police. They had no assurances for their safety and they were aware of the high risks of arrest, beatings and even death. 

In contrast June 30 was less risky. Big protests, as we've learned, are safer, and the police gave assurances they would not attack protesters. That said, the possibility of violence from the Morsi camp remained a risk. Morsi’s supporters are known to have attacked protesters and civilians, long before his removal on July 3. Beyond the support of the security forces, there is a fundamental difference between January 25 and June 30.  The June 30 protests were boisterous and calls were directed against Morsi and the Brotherhood. Chants for bread, freedom or human dignity were not prevalent in these protests. June 30 was effectively about rejecting what they perceived as a foreign element in Egypt’s body, irrespective of what would come next. 

While June 30 protests saw unprecedented numbers, this turnout was a direct result of January 25. January 25 activists paved the way, solidifying the idea that street protests could bring about change. These activists never left the streets and seldom stopped opposing the regime in whatever form it took, whether under the Supreme Council of Armed Forces (SCAF) or the Muslim Brotherhood. 

The idea that June 30 is independent of January 25 is a myth propagated by many who did not support the January 25 uprising. In their efforts to abolish January 25 they have labeled June 30 a new revolution, rather than another wave of the revolution that started two and a half years ago. The support of state elements, including the army and police, was aimed to hijack a movement sparked by activists. 

The massive turn out to “protest against terrorism” on July 26 may have been in response to calls by General Abdel Fattah al-Sisi, but the numbers could be more an indication of disdain for the Muslim Brotherhood rather than support for Sisi. If nothing else, it was certainly in support of Morsi’s removal. Sisi simply symbolizes a chance to save them from the threat of the Brotherhood. While the media has helped magnify these fears, there is, however, a real threat places like Alexandria,Bein El Sarayat, Manial, Assiut, Sinai, Minya, and governorates across Egypt that have been attacked by Morsi supporters. 

As for Muslim Brotherhood protests, it is important to note that they are facing a state known for its brutality, but unlike January 25, there is a clear leadership asking a great many of them to take to the streets. The narrow demands call for a return to the old order: the reinstatement of the constitution, and the return of Morsi and the Shura council. Their chants were quickly transformed, as Islamist rhetoric was replaced with anti-SCAF, pro-legitimacy and even pro-democracy rhetoric. This development was, however, prompted from above, and is a fabricated imitation of anti-government protests over the past two years, during which the Brotherhood was noticeably absent. During watershed moments– the massacring of eighty in Port Said, the targeting of activists including Mohamed al-Guindy, Kristy and Jika, of journalists like Al Husseiny Abu Deif – the Brotherhood was busy creating political cover for SCAF or Ministry of Interior crimes.  

The Brotherhood now calls for the return of an autocrat, one who thanked the police and army for their service, all of which is in direct contradiction with their newly adopted pro-democracy rhetoric. The sincerity of Brotherhood protests is also questioned because of a clear support for autocratic measures set up during the one year of Brotherhood rule.  The Brotherhood advocated for a restrictive protest law, which they are now breaking, and also pushed for restrictions on media.

The final issue that must be addressed when looking at protests in Egypt is the question of violence. Pro-Morsi protests cannot all be described as peaceful. Some protesters randomly attacked neighborhoods in Cairo and Alexandria and twice attempted to storm Tahrir using firearms where another sit-in was being staged. When pro-Morsi sit-ins were forcefully dispersed, over fifty churches, andChristian homes and businesses attacked in retaliation. 

While violence has been witnessed in pre-July 3 protests, the violence primarily targeted state actors. Protesters were careful not to affect private property or the interests of ordinary citizens. The anti-military movement Kazeboon staged screenings in public squares of human rights violations perpetrated under SCAF and the Muslim Brotherhood, but were careful not to steal electricity, or damage private property. When met with strong resistance, protesters did not attempt to confront residents of an area. They did not ransack mosques or churches. When the Institute of Egypt caught fire during clashes between protesters and security forces in December 2011, protesters formed a human chain around the building after the fire was extinguished.  

Violence and polarization on the street has escalated to an extent which has hampered meaningful protests in support of ideas rather than entities. It is not possible to protest against state crimes without being associated with the Brotherhood, and it is no longer possible to protest against the Brotherhood now that they’re out of power without being associated with the army. The space created by the January 25 uprising is being reclaimed again by repressive forces that are fighting for power, rather than an enforcement of values. With Brotherhood protests dying down, and police empowered through anti-Brotherhood sentiments, we can expect the streets to remain relatively quiet for some time to come, until the perceived Brotherhood threat is averted. There will come a time when the unreformed state and the unfulfilled demands of bread, freedom and social justice will drive people to protest. For those who refuse supporting the false binaries of army or Brotherhood, now is a time to adopt ideas rather than entities or people for the next time protests kick off. But by that time, how much consensus is built over these ideas and how much of stronghold the security apparatus would have garnered will determine the nature of these protests.

The Answer is Guindy

This article was first published on July 23, 2013 on Atlantic Council's Egypt Source blog.

Funeral of the two martyrs Mohammed El-Guindy and Amr Saad.

The most interesting aspect of the mundane debate over whether what happened between June 30 and July 3 was a coup or a revolution is the debate itself. Irrespective of the definitions of these words, the debate acknowledges two simple facts. Revolution is good, coup is bad. This is perhaps the one point all parties involved in the debate can agree upon, namely the Muslim Brotherhood and its supporters, the military and the people against the Brotherhood. 

The army wants to avoid the term coup for international considerations and to reinforce its own legitimacy, while anti-Morsi protesters want to avoid it because it denies agency. The Brotherhood, on the other hand, uses it because it implies theft. 

Brotherhood apologists adhere to a list of talking points they believe demonstrate what happened in Egypt is the theft of power: Morsi is a democratically elected president, and therefore removing him was unconstitutional and illegitimate; a democratic government was overthrown; Mubarak-era figures, the media, Egypt’s Christians, Shi’ite Muslims, the United States, Iran, all bear responsibility for Morsi’s removal.  

While it is easy to pick apart each of these points, it adds little value to an endless debate. I do, however, have one answer to any doubts or questions, one answer that is worth sharing. That answer is Guindy. 

Mohamed al-Guindy was kidnapped by the police after appearing on a news channel denouncing the Ministry of Interior for its excessive use of force against anti-government protesters. He was taken to a Central Security Forces (CSF) camp and tortured to death by the police, in the alleged presence of Muslim Brotherhood members inside the camp, who helped torture other detainees.

Guindy was tortured, turning up later at a hospital where he spent a week on life support before succumbing to his injuries. According to the medics, he died of a brain haemorrhage. His ribs were broken, there were signs of electrocution on his body, and even his tongue was bruised from torture. 

The story doesn’t end here. Ahmed Mekky, then-minister of justice and a Brotherhood loyalist announced that the autopsy report showed his death was the result of a hit-and-run accident. His statements were made before an official report was issued. Later, Mekky confessed he only did so because the minister of interior told him to. The state attempted to cover up Guindy’s murder, his case resembling that of Khaled Said, whose death at the hands of Egyptian security forces is said to have ignited the Egyptian revolution.

Guindy’s death is not, however, an isolated incident. Jika, Kristy, Al Husseiny Abou-Deif, Amr Saad, Mohamed al Shafie, Omar the sweet potato seller and many more, were killed during Morsi’s rule.  Any hopes for security sector reform were forgotten, as the Brotherhood-led government cracked down on opposition, using police brutality to serve their agenda instead of delivering justice. Guindy is but one name, one face we know of, but Morsi’s state produced many Guindys.

The Brotherhood government tried to takeover relics of the Mubarak regime, and make these failed institutions their own. It seems odd that the Brotherhood were trying to resuscitate a system, which was not only responsible for their own repression, but had failed miserably enough to elicit a revolution. Morsi came to power with the promise of building democratic state institutions, which he failed to do.  Egypt never matured into a democracy with formal channels to prevent the power-grab of a dictator. 

Meanwhile the West is stuck in their moulds of democracy and ballot boxes, as they seem to have forgotten how they got there. They forget that a framework ensuring rights and democratic institutions must be in place before relying on the ballot box. A coup can bring about disastrous results; just as a revolution can bring religious fascism to power, as was the case in Iran; just as the ballot box can bring a Liberian warlord like Charles Taylor to power. The only questions that matter are: What state is Egypt in? How close is it to genuine democracy? And how do we bring it closer?

Democracy ensures that minorities are not oppressed. A democratic state does not witness verbal incitement against Shia’a citizens, in the presence of a president who does nothing to stop it. A democratic state does not witness this incitement escalate into the lynching of four people a few days later, and no one is brought to account. 

I agree with Morsi’s supporters that he should not have been removed on July 3. He should have been removed much earlier. He should have been removed with the first unpunished torture or death that was never properly investigated: Jika, Guindy, Kristy or any of the dozens that have been killed and the scores tortured.  He should have been removed with his first attempt at taking over state institutions instead of fixing them. He should have been removed with his first attempt at subverting democracy.

To all the questions about coup or revolution, do labels really matter? It’s an irrelevant question, because a revolution is more of a mind-set than a single isolated event. It’s like asking whether a car is metal or plastic. There’s only one revolution, and within it are changes of government, people, alliances, but most of all a change in power dynamics and the way of life. 

I don’t know what the right questions are. I don’t know how democracy should be built or how state institutions can be fixed. I don’t know what we really need or how to put the right people in the right place. I only know that the right answer is Guindy. I know that the only tears worth shedding are over those killed brutally for no reason, not Morsi or his proclaimed legitimacy. As long as citizens are targeted and killed and their killers continue to rule, we should exert every effort to bring about justice or remove them. Perhaps this revolution will truly succeed when we have no more Guindys to answer questions with.

The Revenge of the Police State

Originally published in Jadaliyya on 17 Aug 2013

[14 August 2013, security officer firing tear gas on protesters as they attempt to escape the attacks by the security apparatus. Image originally posted to Flicker by tarek1991]

While the ongoing violence in Egypt has contributed to a state of confusion and polarization, one thing is certain: The biggest threat facing Egypt remains the return of the police state. More specifically, the threat concerns, not only the reconstitution of a police state, which never really left since Hosni Mubarak’s ouster, but also the return of the implicit, if not overt, acceptance of the repressive practices of the coercive apparatus. In this respect, the current face-off between the state and the Muslim Brotherhood holds very damaging potential. Widespread anti- Muslim Brotherhood sentiment is currently providing the state with legitimacy to use of force against the Brotherhood, and, in the future, a potential cover for using similar tactics against other dissidents as well.

There is a problem with the way security forces have violently dispersed the pro-Mohamed Morsi sit-ins, even with claims that both Nahda and Rabea sit-ins were armed. Regardless of whether or not one agrees with the Muslim Brotherhood or with the objectives of the sit-ins, the murdering of over five hundred people goes against any sense of human decency and morality. The armed protesters’ reported use of unarmed individuals as human shields is equally despicable and reprehensible. Beyond the serious moral considerations at hand, other problems persist.

The forced dispersal of Rabaa and Nahda marks a triumph of security solutions over political ones—a trend that characterized much of the Mubarak era. Security solutions rarely solve a problem without the support of a political course of action, which seems to be missing in our current context. There is no question that the Muslim Brotherhood leaders have a long history of poor negotiating behavior, showing extreme stubbornness, and failing to uphold their end of the bargain on many occasions, in power and in opposition. But this is exactly why dealing with them demands a politically savvy approach, instead of reliance on security solutions, which will only reinforce the Brotherhood’s rigidity, not to mention the heavy human costs associated with such measures.

Instead, the military and its sponsored government chose a confrontational, security path. This path will only further empower the coercive apparatus without guaranteeing any results, in terms of political stability and social peace. As extremist groups are pushed into hiding, the security leaders will find excuses to employ intrusive surveillance measures, interrogate, torture, and abuse, all with zero transparency and accountability. Supporters of the crackdown among those who oppose the Brotherhood will gladly accept. Reinforcing this trend is the fact that the crackdown has apparently empowered radicalized elements among the supporters of the deposed president.

Some may say that the increasing influence of the security sector will only be limited to “counter-terrorism” and extremist Islamist groups that espouse violence. There are clear signs that this would not be the case. For example, immediately prior to the crackdown against the Muslim Brotherhood sit-ins, retired generals took control of governerships in an overwhelming majority of provinces. For many, this was a clear signal that the state has opted to “securitize” governance, and political files.

Additionally, those who believe that security sector will not overstep its boundaries clearly overlook the long history of the Egyptian state’s meddling in political and private affairs in the name of counter-terrorism and national security. Given that rich history, we could safely conclude that today domestic intelligence agencies are quickly gaining a blank check to meddle in our affairs for the sake of national security. Soon Egyptians will be asked to support their government in whatever decisions it takes on the grounds that the government is at the frontlines of the fight against “violent Islamists.” Political dissidents of all orientations will be vulnerable to the accusation of being soft on “terrorism” or supportive of “radical Islamists.” Will anyone care in the confusing state of insecurity?

Egypt, in other words, is on a dangerous path. There are many reasons to believe that police forces will employ their brutal practices at Mubarak era rates. The policing establishment itself has not changed in any way, never reformed, and never held to account for its past crimes. Minister of Interior Mohamed Ibrahim has even signaled that such a return is imminent, pledging, “Security will be restored to this nation as if it was before January 25, and more."

Tacit supporters of the security state will respond that there was no other way, that there was no room for negotiating with the Brotherhood, and that the forcible dispersal of the sit-ins was necessary.

Such a response, however, overlooks the major limitations of the security solution to the underlying problem, namely that calling on the police—unreformed and lacking the proper training—to resolve the standoff between the Brotherhood and the government is like asking a butcher to do a heart surgeon’s job. Additionally, one could counter and ask: Was it necessary for the police to target unarmed civilians carrying cameras? Was it necessary for security forces to shoot at unarmed crowds? Was it necessary for the police to leave unprotected all the churches that suffered attacks in the aftermath of the sit-ins’ dispersal?

But setting aside analyses of what the police could have done differently, it remains that the recent violence has only deepened people’s reliance on the security state and will exempt politicians from devising solutions to political differences. With the increase in social conflict, particularly along sectarian lines, security services will once again regain their traditional role as an arbiter of these conflicts, as well as their license to employ abusive, repressive tactics. This sustained sense of insecurity will only steer Egypt away from real justice. With the empowerment of the security sector, there will be no reason or motivation to push for revolutionary demands for real reforms inside the policing establishment. It is also likely that the escalation in violence and the pro-security rhetoric that the state has been touting will make it difficult for political dissidents, who are equally opposed to the Muslim Brotherhood and the military, to employ street action.

In some ways, the MB’s confrontational approach, wittingly or not, is handing back the coercive apparatus its license to kill and repress with impunity, but so are all those who are cheering on the security forces’ crackdown against the Brotherhood. Many such voices have criticized Mohamed ElBaradie for resigning his post as vice president in the wake of the recent violence. But in reality there is no role for a politician in a state that is poised to pick a security solution in dealing with every pressing challenge.

As we confront the question of whether or not Egypt will witness the “return” of the police of the Mubarak era, a number of critical questions arise, such as: Is there any revolutionary fervor left to resist this route? Or have revolutionary commitments been drained through all the blood and the failed attempts at establishing a democratic political order?

Whether or not a new wave of revolutionary mobilization will emerge to push back against the growing power of the security state is an open question. But it is clear that the persistence of the confrontation between the state and the Muslim Brotherhood will only deepen the securitization of politics by reinforcing demands for security solutions. What it will take to reverse the return of the police state, which revolutionary activists have worked hard to resist, is uncertain. One could argue that the brutal injustices that the police are bent on committing will always make resistance structurally inevitable. But that suggests that reviving resistance will come at a high price, one that Khalid Said, Jika, Mohamed al-Guindy, and many others have paid.

The Power of Despair

I’m no longer driven by hope but by despair. It may seem odd, such choice of fuel, but it’s one that never seems to run out. It is the ocean and hope is but the oil spilled upon its surface by some twist of fate. The ocean endless, as it seems, but past encounters of oil, make more of it a possibility. To me hope seems like the accident that stirred a raging sea of despair to silence. Except that, hope is the life giving water and despair is the poisonous oil. I use the metaphor for size. 

Somewhere along the road I realized we were not destined to win. It’s not that we were defeated but I realized there will be no definitive moment of triumph where one can decidedly rest. All we’ll have are moments that seem like victories which we’ll discover to be milestones that may be easily swept away from underneath our feet. 

I fell into the ocean realizing the futility of trying. I fell and tried to fight it, but as I searched for changes to comfort me, I recognized one unchangeable fact: that I had changed. Who I changed to became more important than where I am at. I may stumble upon victory or hope, but the real triumph is of the soul. 

I realized that all I needed to worry about was who I carried with me on this journey. I realized  that  who I carried along, was me. Along the way, inside that sea, I saw many and I recognized myself in them, and hoped they recognized themselves in me. Too many were sinking, looking for that blotch of oil, but in that search, by existing, it was them that kept me afloat. It is in them that I experience small triumphs; in them that I bore the poisonous sea. 

So I glide through the sea, hoping to stumble upon a patch of life giving oil. It was that which kept me going at first, but in the end I realized it may not even be oil that we find. Yet we’re all searching for the patch of oil, that safe place where a glimmer of victory can be glimpsed. Some keep on swimming in that hope, some rest their backs upon the sea and look up to the sky, reflecting on past hopes. Some dive underneath for a while and close their eyes, but despair is not so easy to live with, they must come up for air. Many like me, still struggle to keep their head above the water, half immersed in despair, half breathing the air.

Then once in a while we find just enough of us, standing close enough, speaking to and hearing one another. That is the blotch of oil we seem to stumble across from time to time. I recognize that oil in those around me and that is what keeps me going and that is why I do not let go.

Challenges to Finding Your Moral Compass

The past few years have been trying from a moral point of view. I find myself having to make moral choices every day about new and strange situations that are not out of a book but before my eyes. It hasn’t only been trying, but also tiring. Every time I need to make up my mind about something I must go through piles of data and try to discover what of it can be treated as real information. Who can I trust? What can I read out of the truth? What can I read out of the lies?

There’s too much to read, too much to look through, too many lies to sift through. In the end facts are not enough. They have to be put together through reason. Reject the impossible, entertain the possible, verify what you can through circles of trust, figure out if they’ve been lied to. Then you have to look through your moral lens and make up your mind and on occasion adjust that lens.

How does one react morally to events around? Over 500 people were killed. The police only claimed 10 machine guns were found. How can this number justify the number of deaths? On the other hand over 40 policemen were killed which makes this a combat not a massacre. At the top level it’s easy. The MB leaders take the most blame for bringing us to this point, whoever is running the state whether military or state security next for ordering the dispersal and police for utter brutality. But that’s not enough, the intricacies are puzzling.

MB leaders have called upon their followers and put them in harm’s way but are their supporters without agency? What kind of parent takes their child to a protest that will be dispersed imminently? What kind of protester continues in an armed protest to act as a human shield? What kind of protester picks up arms to fight using other unarmed protesters as human shields? Those human shields do not shield off anything, both sides want them dead. The MB to raise the death tally to further entrench their position as martyrs after their autocratic rule, the state and security forces with the blessing of the spectators, the Egyptian people.

What moral ground permits supporters of the sit-in to attack churches across Egypt in retaliation to their forced dispersal? 

The entire chain is immoral; followers dying for remote and distanced leaders, Copts dying for remote and isolated followers. It makes no sense. How many lives were lost by this utter irresponsibility and lies?

Some mad men lead the country into a vicious cycle of madness. How does Beltagy feel about his daughter dying? Is it for a just cause? The life of a beautiful young woman cut short with no chance to live out her future and see what she can become. Was it worth it?

Was it really worth it, this thirst for power that only brought about injustice? How about all the lives destroyed of the Brotherhood followers or innocent Copts whose livelihood was targeted. What was it all for?

And how about those officers, tools of the state, some fighting for duty, others killing indiscriminately. What were they thinking when they ended all those lives. That they were worth nothing? What were they thinking when they allowed Copts to be attacked and their churches burned? That they deserve this?

Do they deserve to die? Do they deserve to kill?

But how about everyone else, whose life was destroyed by the MB? All they want is to live without an oppressor, who not only wants to steal their present but also their future and their children’s future. They want an army to protect them from MB, an army to kill them all. Do they realize that this army will take away what’s left after the battle is done?

There are many questions to balance out together, much more think of a way out. My loyalty is to my values, not to any group, secular or not, liberal or not. But with all the tiredness I feel on a personal level trying to figure things out, and how tiring and trying my journey is, I feel pleasantly surprised when I see a few, not too many, not too little, reaching similar points, trying to answer questions seriously, trying to find out the truth earnestly. I don’t know how troubling their journey is to them, is it as arduous as mine? I hope not, because my journey is driving me into exhaustion. Yet it’s finding others who arrive to the same point that gives me hope to go on and assures me that it’s worth the trouble. 

AlJazeera Caught in the Act

AlJazeera published a translation of ElBaradie's resignation letter claiming they've published the unedited letter. Meanwhile, if you've read the original letter, you'll see that the last two paragraphs were chopped off. 

The reason is perhaps because ElBaradie talks in the last two paragraphs about how he was for more peaceful solutions and that this day is in the best interest of extremist groups. In any case, it is a serious omission and if it causes a ruckus, I'm sure it will be described as a technical editing mistake.

Here are the remaining paragraphs as translated by Egypt Independent :

As you know, I was for peaceful alternatives to resolve this discord, and there were suitable solutions conducive to national consensus. Then happened what happened. From similar experiences, we can say that reconciliation will eventually take place, yet after paying a price that I believe we could have avoided from the beginning.

I can no longer bear responsibility for decisions that I do not agree with, and whose repercussions I dread. I cannot be responsible for a single drop of blood before God, my conscience, and my people, especially that I believe the dropping of that blood could have been avoided.

Unfortunately, the beneficiaries of what happened today are the extremist advocates of violence and terrorism. And you will recall what I am saying. 

God save Egypt, its great people and its valiant army. 

-Mohamed ElBaradei

On the Paradox of Voting

A lot of the western world still insists that the ballot box is more important than consensus, or perhaps even reflects it. But what good is voting between two options so polarized, with the votes so close. A 51 per cent majority on something as controversial as say, religious fascism, is not worth respect. Consensus is more important. It’s important to be voting about things that you can live with, rather than one thing that keeps you alive and another that can kill you. 

Determining majority has been outlined through elections, but what about consensus? What democratic tools are available from democracies that outline what consensus should be? One of the most important tools is a consensus constitution. This means that the basic rules should be within a framework acceptable by the vast majority. At the same time is that enough? I do not think vast majority is enough of a consensus, because we also need to ensure that minorities are respected. Perhaps this is a personal value judgement, but it’s not one I can compromise for the sake of the majority. 

If there is not enough consensus, elections become a tool to wage a war, rather than a means to resolve disputes. A dispute refers topics that are subject to different opinions, not different core values. There is a statement that we ‘must’ respect the outcome, but how can we respect the outcome if we don’t respect the question? How can we respect the outcome if we don’t respect the process?

There is a lesson here from countries in search of real democracy to those in the west happy in the limitation to the ballot box, that there’s consensus about the limits of majority will in democratic countries.

The power of democracy was never to ensure that the best happens, but that the worst does not. In a country like Egypt, the worst was not prevented, which goes to show that there was no point waiting for elections. The corollary to that could be that democracy was not in place and that’s why the worst happened. 

I will not draw links between what I wrote and this quote, in fact, I don’t really know if there is a direct link, but thinking about ideas of democracy and the ballot box particularly championed on from many western commentators reminded me of these words from Erich Fromm:

“Today we come across an individual who behaves like an automaton, who does not know or understand himself, and the only person that he knows is the person that he is supposed to be, whose meaningless chatter has replaced communicative speech, whose synthetic smile has replaced genuine laughter, and whose sense of dull despair has taken the place of genuine pain. Two statements may be said concerning this individual. One is that he suffers from defects of spontaneity and individuality which may seem to be incurable. At the same time it may be said of him he does not differ essentially from the millions of the rest of us who walk upon this earth.”

Elections First? Again?

With respect to numerous personalities asking for the constituent assembly to be elected and for constitution writing to be postponed, that makes no sense. First, we're in this mess because an elected president wrote the constitution ... second and more important, a constituent assembly must not be representative of society, it should represent the minorities more. That's why electing an assembly reflective of the majority will not work, because the problem is mostly in minority rights and fairness, and the revolution is about correcting the flawed power dynamics existing in society.

It's understandable that those who are 'chosen' to write the constitution may not be to our liking, but postponing the writing of the constitution till a president is elected will weaken public pressure. That's why this is a time to press for the constitution and for its writing process through direct action and open debate rather than formal means which we have no guarantees will be established fairly.

30/6 ..What next?

On the Question of Civil War in Egypt

There won't be a civil war. 

Muslim Brotherhood members aren't trained to fight with weaponry on a mass scale. They're ordinary people who can be overly zealous or violent at times, like most other Egyptian citizens. But even if they pick up arms, who will the Muslim Brotherhood fight? They're not fighting Christians or Shiaa or any specific group, they're fighting the people, most of them anyway. 

Any fight the Brotherhood chooses will be the state against people, it can't be classified as a civil war. Also if ever the Muslim Brotherhood supporters pick up arms, it means the military is allowing it, which means that it's still state sponsored violence not a civil war. However such a scenario is highly unlikely because the army will not allow the state's monopoly on organized armed violence to escape it nor will the police for that matter. Furthermore the real indication of a civil war would be splits in the army which are highly unlikely considering the nature of the military. 

So those warning of a civil war, please think.

Why Morsi is No Longer President

Muslim Brotherhood supporters have lectured everyone about protecting ‘legitimacy’, but what legitimacy are they talking about? Is it of the state? Is it of the institutions? Or is it Morsi?

The Shura council which continues to issue contentious laws has been declared illegitimate by the constitutional court. The constituent assembly was illegitimately protected by Morsi with a constitutional declaration that was not backed by a popular referendum.  The constitution itself has a weak mandate with a very weak showing and a not even two thirds of a yes vote that was required inside the assembly itself overshadowed with grave irregularities, instability and at times tampering.

We’re left with  Morsi, the ‘legitimate’ president whose hairline victory his opponent with the weakest possible mandate of under 52 per cent.  But even if we were to acknowledge the legitimacy of such a process can we still consider Morsi a legitimate president today?

Here are a few reasons why Morsi lost his legitimacy.

Breech of contract
There is a difference between performing poorly in a job and breeching a contract. The presidency’s mandate is to serve the people not a specific group. When law is used as a tool for oppression, when activists are kidnapped and tortured to death, when prisons are used to eliminate opposition rather than harbour convicted criminals, it becomes a breech of contract.  There are numerous promises made by the president which he broke. The easiest to point to are the 100 days promises, a representative constituent assembly and a consensus constitution. All these promises have been broken.

Minority Rights
Minority rights are an indication of how successful a democracy is. Under Morsi, minorities have been even more marginalized and discriminated against. Instead of going into details about how Shia’a, women and Copts are being side-lined, we can see clearly where Morsi went wrong. In April 2013, Egyptian police attacked and aided an attack on the Coptic Cathedral of St. Mark. This was a state sponsored attack, and no one was held to account. It was a deviation from the democratic mandate colossal enough to depose any ruler.

Impunity and Police Brutality
Police brutality ignited mass public protests in 25 January 2011. Yet under Morsi, the police continues to act with impunity and is arguably even more brutal than before. Failing to address this, Morsi becomes an extension to a regime that has already been deligitimized by the people.

Manipulating Judiciary
Instead of cleansing the judiciary, Morsi has tried to manipulate and abuse it by appointing a lying minister of justice and a biased public prosecutor.  The minister of justice lied about a forensic report and the public prosecutor asked innocents to be locked up without a formal charge.

Undemocratic Rule
Ikhwan supporters brag about the will of the people bringing Morsi to power, yet that will is completely ignored by the president. None of the people’s demands have been met or listened to effectively. This complete disregard for input provided by many of the people who elected Morsi and even those who did not is reason enough for people to decide to give the responsibility to someone else. Furthermore, in absence of a parliament, no decisions are taken with participation from any other party. There is no power sharing and what’s worse no indication that there is a will to change that.

New Constitution
A new constitution should change the conditions under which a president was elected. There are new inputs which may change people’s decision about who they want as president based on the newly drawn role. The president’s job description changed therefore annulling his election.

Guidance Bureau
Since Morsi does not take any of the decisions on his own anyway, he is not the person people elected and therefore when people do not get who they elected, it is enough of a reason to put in place someone else that they choose.

Alienating Everyone
Numerous factions of society have been alienated by Morsi’s policies. These include farmers, workers, judges, doctors and even the police. When policemen committed to protecting the regime chant ‘Down with the General Guide’s rule’, this is an indication of deeply rooted sentiments that cannot be ignored.

Lying
On its own, lying once to the people is enough of a reason to remove any president from power. Morsi was caught lying beyond any reasonable doubt. This is not only about promises he broke like his 100 day campaign promises, nor about policy shifts like his position on the emergency law which he changed. This is also about lying to the people before the elections in order  to get elected. Before being elected, Morsi lied about working in NASA as a consultant, then lied again denying he ever said it.  He lied to the Egyptian people in a public statement claiming that the prosecution had obtained confessions of protesters being funded by opposition. Lies about the history of a presidential candidate delegitimizes him once they've been uncovered, and they have.

(Note: Although I’ve offered 9 reasons why Morsi is no longer president, I resisted calling the article ‘9 Reasons Why Morsi is No Longer President’ I must confess I have a slight distaste for such titles stemming from their repetition yet I also  find them alluring and would probably read something which had such a title)

He Who is Without a State

The Question of Violence: Context is Everything

It is important to note a fact, forgotten even among many human rights defenders: Every human rights violation is the responsibility of the state. The state is accountable for every crime, even if the abuse happens between civilians. Some may be tempted to contest this rule of responsibility. But in the world of human rights, the state has a duty to protect its citizens against any human rights abuses.

Now that the condemnation part is out of the way, perhaps it’s best to try to understand what is really happening in Egypt, without needlessly trying to blame the violence on the victims. Here I mean both Muslim Brotherhood’s supporters and the protesters. Both have been pitted against one another through policy.

But having established that the state, or the Brotherhood Guidance Bureau, is fully blamed for the unfortunate violent events that are taking place across Egypt, it is still important to understand why instead of who.

The true nature of what’s happening is cause and effect. Justice became unattainable and people are sick of mere promises. The police and the judiciary are complicit with an oppressive regime which does not heed to calls for justice.

It no longer pays to ask the state to enforce justice. They are the perpetrators and there is no one to hold them accountable.

People are finding their own form of justice which, while flawed, may be less flawed than the injustice served by the state. We need to think about the situation rationally, practically and without preconceived notions about the state.

To understand the situation in Egypt, one must not assume the existence of a state. One cannot assume that those in uniform have more legitimacy than other citizens. Therefore the talk of state laws, legitimacy and institutions has little value.

The question of violence

It is important to understand what happened before quickly condemning it. The easiest thing is to condemn violence, but before that, it’s important to understand what lead to it. The use of violence is legitimate when the state uses it as a means to provide justice in society. Violence needs to be just; it needs to be justified. Citizens’ violence in self-defence should not be condemned. Therefore, the context does matter.

The trouble is that people have assumed for so long that violence committed by individuals is not legitimate. But what if it is justified? What if it defends your life? What if it defends a loved one’s life? What if it defends your future? What if it defends your rights?

The assumption that the state has the legitimate right to violence, even if this state is illegitimate and unjust, is a flawed assumption. As soon as the state diverges from justice, the legitimacy of violence gets muddled up.

The police are uniformed thugs. The trouble is that they inflict pain and violence on command without having a vested interest.

Looking at violence from the side of the people, we see they have a direct interest in committing acts of violence. They are not doing it to subdue others, and not to steal what is not theirs. Their violence comes from a sense of injustice as they find nobody to turn to when the uniformed thugs and the politicians take away their rights.

Furthermore the violence is not directed primarily towards individuals but towards buildings that symbolize oppression. It is only when people get in the way that violence is directed at them.

In a sense, we can think of the individuals who block protesters’ path as similar to the police and Central Security Forces, who attempted to stop people from reaching Tahrir Square on 28 January 2011. If we take it a step further, we can see that the individuals being attacked by protesters also associate themselves with the country’s presidency and main political party.

They are just like the former ruling National Democratic Party thugs, but paid in lies, religious rhetoric and promises of paradise.

You may condemn a man being murdered for the violence he inflicts on his murderer. You may pretend to be fair about it and condemn both sides, or even ask for all sides to exercise restraint. In the end, a distanced condemnation does not change reality.

A great part of condemnation relates to countrymen killing one another. This presumes that the police and thugs during the 18 days were not Egyptians.

But if we make the argument that it was justified to have attacked them as representatives of the regime, does it not then follow that Muslim Brotherhood supporters acting in place of CSF troops are representatives of the regime?

When a citizen joins an oppressive police force, and goes so far as to shoot rounds of shotgun pellets at protesters, he is not acting in self-defence. His act is one of aggression.

Some say that a civil war is about to erupt between the Islamists and the seculars. It is my assessment that a war has already begun even if not called a war.

It’s the war of truth against lies, it’s the war of freedom in the face of oppression. It started with the Hosni Mubarak regime and is continuing after his fall with those who wish to extend that form of rule.

It is a war that starts with ideas, spills into control of public space and freedoms and then moves to controlling individual behaviour through fear and oppressive laws. What we see now is popular resistance to a regime which is very much used to employing civilian clothed militias alongside its uniformed police to do its dirty work.

This is not a fight between civilians, this is a fight between civilians experiencing injustice and other citizens with no direct vested interest standing up to them to prevent them from gaining their rights, much like the police.

What state?

The state is diminishing. As long as justice diminishes, the state will keep diminishing.

The state’s role is to rule through consensus. This can occur through fear or through justice. The more injustice prevails, the more the legitimacy of the state is compromised.

When someone cannot trust the fairness of a decision, he may still uphold it because it can be enforced on him. But when enough people do not trust it, force will not succeed. Decisions and laws lose their value if they cannot be upheld for the most part without the use of force.

It is those in power who are responsible for the deterioration of the state because they are responsible for the deterioration of justice. As the state becomes weaker, the legitimacy of using violence becomes weaker.

People have come to be in a perpetual state of resistance. The more time passes, the more people will feel they are without a state. The police, the politicians and their supporters will turn into criminals in their eyes, and their removal will be justified.

An individual who feels there is no state will only trust himself and his comrades. When confronted with the symbols of oppression face to face, it is not difficult to guess which citizen or protester will cast the first stone.

First published in print in Egypt Independent, republished online in Counerpunch on 27 May 2013. 

On Unity

The opposition will not be united in ideology, they will be united in a goal. But to be united in a goal means to you need to organize and coordinate. That's what we really need, organization and discipline, not particularly unity. The unity that is implied asks us not to fight about little things. But we should always fight about the little things, this is our gift, pluralism and accepting the others. Why do we want to agree about everything? Do we want the same blind obedience?

We should agree to a goal and fight as little as possible till we reach it, but to see our differences as a sign of weakness is to ask for another monolithic entity that will most surely be exclusive of others. We ought to unite on a goal, and organize to achieve it, that's the only unity possible. Until then, all that remains are our differences unfortunately.

Winter of Discontent - More than just the 18 day uprising

If ever there were doubts about the brutality of the Mubarak regime and why it had to go, they are completely dispelled by Ibrahim El-Batout’s latest masterpiece Winter of Discontent.

The movie outlines with dedicated care the utter brutality and impunity with which the State Security apparatus operated. The utter helplessness of its victims and their families who had no one to turn to when they disappeared is suffocating to watch. The torture scenes reflected extreme ruthlessness without exaggeration.

The movie centres around the life of an activist, Amr (Amr Waked), in January 2009 and 2011, and focuses on the characters of Farah (Farah Youssef), a TV presenter and Adel (Salah ElHanafy) a high ranking state security officer. The movie does more than tell the story of Egypt’s uprising. It tells a story of Egypt’s past, present and possibly future.

It is difficult write an impassive review of a movie so close to the events of the 2011 uprising.  In a way watching the movie is not about the characters in the film, but stories we experienced or heard about. As the movie premiered, a host of recognized revolutionary figures present could be heard whispering as they related their own stories or those of people they knew.

Waked’s performance holds everything together. We see how he breaks and rises. We see what makes him heal. It is a fairy tale of sorts, but one that has happened over and over again on account of the events of January 2011.  Farah Youssef is a TV presenter who also finds redemption, at times her return is over the top. Perhaps surprising was the part played by new comer ElHanafy as the state security officer which was both written and executed with refined subtlety. The depiction is unorthodox yet entirely convincing. A wide spectrum of emotions palpable in the details and the performance, yet expressed so reservedly.

El-Batout’s imagery is mesmerizing, his camera never in a rush to catch up with what is happening but rather moving slowly as if reflecting on what it captures. The film set meticulously chosen, whether it is the run down quarters of state security, or the refined, lavish home of the state security officer.  The scenes are dark yet painting like, with copious shades of black and blue filling the screen as if they were the film’s posters - memorable cinematography from Victor Credi the director of photography. Ahmed Mostafa Saleh’s music in the background is mostly subtle and minimalist complementing the picture beautifully.

A movie that recounts the details of the 18 day uprising in 2011 was long awaited and with regards to accuracy and authenticity, Winter of Discontent does not disappoint. There is no climax, just a slow transition that the revolution did to a great number of people. It does not tackle what people did in Tahrir, but rather what Tahrir did to other places.

Whatever it may be as a movie is overshadowed by sincerity in telling the tale. The attention to detail, whether in conversation, mood or sound, is transporting to the 18 days. One such example is chants heard in the background of ‘Bread, freedom’ followed by the long forgotten ‘human dignity’, now replaced by ‘social justice’. Such were the chants that shook Cairo. ‘Do you think they’ll be able to do anything?’ asked Amr’s neighbor in one of the scenes as the protests marched by. A simple statement that reflects the hope people in their homes had for any sort of change that would better their lives.

For many who have witnessed some of these events, it is an incredibly moving picture that captures the spirit of the events; a whirlwind of emotions about fear, hope and defiance. To hope again when hope was lost is not easy to do, even when everything around you asks you to.

The story is about a nation who sought justice but found it absolutely nowhere but themselves having searched so hard. In a way it tells the story of a continuing revolution, from reasons it had started to reasons it cannot but continue. It tells the story of hopes and dreams and the ability to rise from beneath the dirt. Yet with all that it holds, it is a deeply saddening tale, because it is a story of an on-going discontentment, a continuing struggle, one that has not yet been resolved, one that has not yet been won.