by Mordechai Kedar
Six months ago, on January 25th, thousands of Egyptians started to pour into al-Tahrir (Liberation, from the British occupation) Square in central Cairo. They demanded the downfall of Mubarak, who had occupied the presidential seat for almost thirty years, since October 1981. What the masses actually called for was the removal of the corrupt, fossilized regime of The Free Officers that took control of Egypt in July 1952, i.e. fifty-nine years ago; Mubarak was its last member. This government, which never stood for elections worthy of the name, was based on a large group of “fat cats” who ruthlessly controlled all areas of life and exploited every resource for their own gain. The people remained poor and neglected, and forty million Egyptians live in unplanned neighborhoods with no infrastructure for running water, sewage, electricity, communications, education and health.
The protests against Mubarak, which intensified daily, were exemplified by signs, carried by demonstrators, focusing on one word: Irhal (Go Away), directed at Mubarak, his wife and sons – including Gamal, his designated successor – and the ministers who served him for many long years. Mubarak always counted on the army to help him in such a situation, by shooting at protestors; indeed, every unit in the Egyptian army was tasked with restoring order in a given city or neighborhood (i.e. to diffuse any anti-government activity). However, the army did not meet Mubarak’s expectations and did not shoot at demonstrators as long as they did not endanger its forces and its installations. Nevertheless, hundreds of protestors were killed by the police and by gunmen of State Security and General Intelligence, some when they attacked police stations in order to steal weapons.
When the demonstrations intensified, it was Minister of Defense, Tantawi, who demanded in no uncertain terms that Mubarak step down from office; the military became “the people’s army” and not “the president’s army”, and gained the protesters’ trust. After Mubarak’s removal, the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces took power, suspended the constitution for half a year and appointed a temporary government headed by Essam Sharaf. The people’s success in ousting the Sphinx (Mubarak) brought high spirits to the country: people began cleaning the public areas near their homes, sensing that the country was theirs again, and the land was their land after it had been liberated from the dictator. Neighbors started to take an interest in each other’s lives because they felt united by their enormous success in getting rid of the tyrant. Initially, there were many reports that girls in the street, particularly at demonstrations in al-Tahrir Square, experienced much less sexual harassment, a daily occurrence prior to the revolution; the atmosphere during the uprising had become one of camaraderie, cooperation and responsibility. The dawn of a new era broke over Egypt in February and inspired the banks of the Nile with hopes – great hopes – of a flourishing spring, of success and prosperity.
Time has, however, passed and after six months, the situation in Egypt has only worsened, not improved. Unemployment, which stood at 25% during Mubarak’s rule, has risen dramatically. It is now estimated at 50% or higher, i.e. one of every two wage earners does not have a steady job. The rise in unemployment stems primarily from the disappearance of the tourism industry. Millions of tourists had arrived each year and provided good income for hotel, restaurant and nightclub workers; for taxi and bus drivers; for souvenir and clothing manufacturers; for operators of Nile cruises; for policemen who helped them cross busy streets; for show girls; for farmers who marketed their produce to hotels and restaurants where tourists ate to their hearts’ content. Since the outbreak of the revolution, there are hardly any tourists and those millions of Egyptians who directly and indirectly benefited from such visitors have been without income for six months. Since the unemployed consume less food, clothing and services, many other branches of the economy have suffered from the domino effect of the downturn in tourism. Only a very few of the tens of thousands of Egyptians who are now completing their academic studies will find work, whether in the private or government sectors, commensurate with their education. In this respect, favoritism was, and still is, the name of the game.
Hopes that the new government would clean up the corruption in the public sector have been dashed. Police officers suspected of fatally shooting protestors in January and February have not been suspended, interrogated or put on trial for their crimes. Even Mubarak, allegedly responsible for the shooting of demonstrators, is spending the last few months awaiting trial in a Sharm al-Sheikh hotel rather than in prison. Ministers and officials currently serving in the temporary government were part of Mubarak’s corrupt ruling apparatus for many long years. Military courts continue to try civilians for harming state security, defying the explicit demand of protestors, who feel that the chances of a civilian receiving a just trial in a military court are nil.
The question that has occupied Egyptians this past month is what should come first: should constitutional change precede elections, or should such change be the responsibility of the parliament to be chosen in the next elections. The Supreme Council of the Armed Forces resolved the question by deciding to hold elections first; however, they continue to be postponed and are now tentatively scheduled for November. The dozens of new parties will not have sufficient time to organize, giving an advantage to the established parties including the Muslim Brotherhood; the split in that movement, however, has already given birth to five parties and it is unclear if all of them will ultimately run separately. There are constant media reports about American pressure on the government to hold only partially democratic elections in order to prevent the Muslim Brotherhood parties from having too much influence. This is enough to remind the public of the Mubarak period and to wonder what has changed.
The Supreme Council of the Armed Forces is playing a critically important role. On the one hand, the army took a sympathetic approach towards the revolutionary youth and ousted Mubarak from power. On the other hand, the military undertook the difficult task of running the country during the transition; of restoring the public’s faith in the government corrupt bureaucracy, which has remained largely intact; of stabilizing the economy and of conducting democratic elections in which a president and two parliamentary houses – the People’s Assembly and the Shura Council – would be chosen to jointly establish a government. The public, primarily the young people of the revolution, have well understood this difficult task and have generally accepted the decisions of the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces over the last few months.
However, this past month has seen a turning point: the army increasingly operates as a ruling body and less as an organization assisting the people in achieving their goals. The public is growing less and less enamored of the Council of Armed Forces and is already waving signs in al-Tahrir Square along the lines of: “Down With the Council of the Armed Forces”; “Council of Armed Forces – Your Credit Has Run Out; “The Revolution Continues”; “Stop Military Trials for Civilians Now”. The names assigned to recent Fridays express the public’s rage at the situation – “Friday of Rage” and “Friday of Warning” – with everyone understanding at whom the rage and warnings are directed.
The above developments have been clearly reflected in the behavior of one of the members of the Council of Armed Forces, General Mohsen Fangary. From the beginning of the revolution on January 25th, he supported the rights of citizens to express their opinions peacefully, and has been very popular among the masses. Two weeks ago, on July 12th, he appeared on local and international media and, in a frightening and intimidating tone, read a statement issued by the Supreme Council of Armed Forces while waving his finger threateningly:
“. . . The council will not relinquish its role during this critical period in Egypt’s history . . . Freedom of expression is guaranteed to all, but only within the boundaries of the law. Elections will be the first step, after which the constitution will be drafted. The special courts (i.e. military courts) will not be abolished. The army will not allow violent protests or the obstruction of economic activity; it will not permit the spreading of rumors and misinformation which could lead to disunity, disobedience and the dismantling of the homeland; it will give precedence to the interests of the public over those of individuals. The council will not allow anyone to seize power and will take the necessary measures against threats to the homeland.”
Millions of Egyptians listened with great concern to this threatening announcement, which made it clear to them – from no less than the thundering voice of the popular General Fangary – that the period of hugs and flowers had ended, that the army intends to stay in power for more than half a year, and perhaps for a much longer period. General Fangary, with his menacing finger and booming voice, let the audience know that what had been will no longer be and that he would not permit the Woodstock atmosphere in al-Tahrir Square to evolve into anti-army protests.
Egypt is now at the height of a hot summer; the overall atmosphere, as well as the air temperature have risen. In less than two weeks, at the beginning of August, the month of Ramadan, during which Muslims grow close to Allah, will commence. During the course of the day, the stomach is empty of food, but the soul is filled with thoughts; given the disappointment at the bitter reality in which the country finds itself, it won’t take more than a tiny clash between the military and protesters to inflame the atmosphere and ignite the fumes gathering in the Egyptian street. When there is not enough money to buy food for all thirty evenings of Ramadan or to buy presents for the women and children, the Egyptian points an accusing finger at the regime, currently headed by the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces.
In the next few weeks or months, the Arab Spring is liable to turn into the Egyptian Summer – hot, steamy, violent and repulsive – in which the cat will be let out of the bag and the youth of Al Tahrir Square will realize that they have replaced one group of officers with another, that instead of Mubarak, they have Tantawi or Fangary, all cut from the same cloth. If conflict erupts, Heaven forefend, it will take place between the revolutionary youth and the army, which, this time, might fire massively at them.
The army may in the interim throw protesters some bones, such as a show trial for Mubarak (if he lives), his wife and sons, and the public might even get to see them swinging from a rope in al-Tahrir Square; aside from momentary joy, however, this will not calm the street. The standing of the Israeli embassy and the peace agreement with Israel might also be impacted, because the army may employ such a stratagem to douse the flames.
In the event of major clashes between the army and the population, many Egyptians are liable to try and reach Israel via Sinai and the open border. Israel must prepare for such a scenario so that it is not caught by surprise when thousands of Egyptians arrive daily, fleeing the cruelty of their army.
Mordechai Kedar Mordechai.Kedar@biu.ac.il
Source: The article is published in the framework of the Center for the Study of the Middle East and Islam (under formation), Bar Ilan University, Israel. Translated by Nachama Kanner
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