We are back in the States now: on vacation in Wisconsin. A tasteful “Recall Walker” sign adorns my in-laws’ house in Madison. The kids are fine, riding a scooter up and down the sidewalk. (Sidewalk!) Jet lag; culture shock.
This blog will now stop attempting to respond to the day-to-day flow of events in Egypt. I will probably take a short break and then come back with several “feature” type stories or straight travelogue pieces that got started in Cairo but got pre-empted by the rush of political developments. (I gave up daily newspaper reporting 16 years ago but my mom once described me, very much in the AA sense, as a “recovering journalist.”) Haven’t decided what to do after that, once the semester begins.
But you don’t really need me. Unlike when I started learning Arabic 14 years ago (and that was the main reason why I started), there are now SO many articulate English-language voices commenting on developments all over the region. You can begin here for this week, if you haven’t already: Ahdaf Soueif’s reflection on the military’s brutalization of female demonstrators, and Mahmoud Salem/Sandmonkey’s astonishing piece breaking his silence about Islamist parties, parliamentary elections, the revolution’s mistakes, and more. The New York Times’ coverage has also been surprisingly good, for the most part: so, bravo to David Kirkpatrick (I don’t know him personally) and his stringers and fixers.
Backlogged ordinary street scenes coming soon. Take care of yourselves meanwhile.
Category Archives: Uncategorized
Since when do the security forces throw the Molotovs?
Returned from Abu Dhabi at 4am today — just in time for another wave of unimaginable state violence. Military police (i.e., the army, NOT just the Ministry of Interior) have spent all day attacking protesters, breaking up a 3-week-old sit-in outside the Cabinet building with beatings and live fire, even (get this) throwing Molotov cocktails at protesters from the roofs of government buildings. I was offline this morning, taking the kids to visit the Pyramids (had to do it eventually), so first heard about the events because my journalist friend, with whom we were supposed to meet up at a birthday party in Kit Kat, said he was unable to leave his house in Qasr El Ainy. Under siege, again.
I’ll try to write more soon; meanwhile you can read this astonishing chronicle, from what is actually a state run-paper. Among the highlights:
2:15pm A doctor at the scene told Ahram Online that the fighting began when a group of protesting Ultras were playing a football match early in the monring in front of the Cabinet building. The ball flew into the building’s courtyard. When one of the Ultras, named Aboudy, jumped into the building to try and retrieve the ball, he was brutally beaten by security forces. He is now in Qasr El-Aini Hospital.
8:15pm Pitch battles continue in Qasr El-Aini Street as security forces attack protesters on the ground with rocks and Molotov cocktails from the roofs of smouldering government buildings. The protesters have been fighting back all day and, with the ruling military council failing to take any action to restrain the forces under their command, this shows no sign of ending any time soon.
The photos and videos circulating online are pretty amazing too. Army personnel attacking Egyptians with electric cattle prods, dragging them by the hair. A protestor who was an Azhar scholar of Islamic law has been killed; women wearing the full face-veil have been beaten. Yet someone I had coffee with late tonight (a professional actor, hangs out with liberals, etc.) blamed the protesters for what he called their naivete in retrieving a soccer ball (“You idiot! It’s the Ministry of Interior, not the yard of the lady next door!”), not at all the military for perpetrating obvious and gratuitous violence against its own people.
Can’t believe we are leaving this country tomorrow night. Don’t want to go. Feels like abandoning the bedside of a friend who is very dear — and very wounded. Who knows when and in what shape I will see him again.
Election Day in Dokki goes on without me
“Come vote with us!” invited my acquaintance on our street, one of the few real working-class (actually, unemployed-class) liberals I’ve met, after we bonded over his otherwise unshared suspicions of the Brotherhood. I’m excited to be in Abu Dhabi for what promises to be a very fun conference on World Literature and Translation, but sorry to be missing the fun on Voting Day in our neighborhood. Here are some posters from Dokki/Mohandiseen.
The one of Gamal Abdel Nasser is from the back window of someone’s car on our street; he’s not really running for office, just (as the caption says) “still in the hearts of millions.” The others are candidates. Not a lot of women running, but how do you like that lady whose symbol is the rifle? Or the Brothers represented by two objects they’ve perhaps never used, a stove and a blender? At least you can’t accuse the election committee of sexism. There’s a public service poster advising people on how to vote; most of these have been scratched up or pasted over with posters for particular candidates. Note the statue of Ahmad Orabi in the background of the Midan Orabi photo: he still has an eye patch commemorating the Nov 19-26 violence where several protesters got their eyes shot out. Oh, and one Egyptian Bloc candidate hung his banners over some street signs on major public roads, such that you can’t see the street signs anymore to know where you’re going. Trust him to prioritize the national interest over his own and steer the parliament in the right direction. Somehow don’t have photos yet, but the MB splinter party Hizb al-Wasat, now usually described as “moderate Islamist,” has recently sprouted a very strong presence in our neighborhood, with offices right near the Bahoos metro station and posters all over the place featuring their #1 guy on the list-based vote, a good-looking former Zamalek soccer star.
Turnout promises to be high. Apparently some number of people have had the daylights scared out of them by the MB/Nour sweep in the first round, and are voting Egyptian Bloc “to balance things out.” Certainly that’s the Bloc’s last best strategy: they’ve taken down their billboards with photos of tycoon/party founder Naguib Sawiris (a liability in general, and more so after he made a massive televised gaffe last week), and replaced them with huge posters simply showing the Bloc’s symbol (the eye) and the words, “For a Balanced Parliament.” (Pix of those on my other camera too.)
This was my earlier question about multi-round elections, which my friend Qifa Nabki described in his comment as “not ideal” — and in many cases of course they aren’t. But because late-round voters get to see how the early rounds voted, could this system allow for an early and healthy expression of buyer’s remorse?
My Q&A with BU Today
This ran today.
Cairo, Up Close and Personal | BU Today | Boston University.
Thanks, Amy Sutherland!
Bicycle bread
Belatedly, photos of Dec 5 runoff election in Zamalek
Although there were some important runoff races, the turnout last week (Dec 5 runoff for candidates who didn’t win outright in the first vote; still the first of three rounds of parliamentary elections) was pathetic. Election workers and volunteers of various kinds far outnumbered voters. All the newspapers led with photos of empty polling stations. Here are mine.
The soldiers didn't have much to do. The women in vests are self-organized "Election guardians." Didn't see them in the first vote.
Why the sleepy turnout?
Bored election volunteers organize themselves for a group photo.
Say, "Democracy"!
Ken Garden talks with three FJP canvassers on hand to assist voters
Unsurprisingly, the FJP carried most of the runoff races. They are so professional. Their ubiquitous bright blue and yellow posters have become like wallpaper: you don’t even notice them anymore. Some people have told me they’re voting MB because they perceive them as competent. One taxi driver, in earnest: “Look at their campaign. They have so much money. Of course they’ll use it to fix the country.”
Those THREE FJP canvassers chatting with my husband (they were delighted to hear he was a religion professor) are not local. (Him: So, are you all here representing different parties? Them: Nope, one party.) When we told them there was a Brotherhood office on our street, they said, “Oh, that’s our office! We live in Dokki/Mohandiseen. Not around here. We are doing this election work in the daytime, but then we do outreach work through the neighborhood FJP office in the evenings.” (Dokki votes in Giza’s election round, not till Dec 14.)
For what it’s worth, “religious parties” are officially banned (e.g., the Salafi Nour party is a “party with a religious point of reference”). Anyway, since the FJP proclaims on its propaganda that it’s “the party created by the Muslim Brotherhood for all Egyptians,” theoretically there ought to be a separation between the religious organization and the political party. I don’t think it’s proper for the FJP to campaign out of the MB’s headquarters.
A sharp analysis of the first-round election outcome by Samuel Tadros here. But I don’t see how he says the parliament will be “solely composed of Muslim males.” Mostly, overwhelmingly, yes.
We know who represents Egypt. But who constitutes it?
Neither the Brotherhood nor SCAF wants a system of checks and balances. Might that be exactly why they eventually produce one?
As before November 18, when the MB and Salafi parties very successfully challenged SCAF’s attempt to impose “supra-constitutional principles” ahead of the first-round parliamentary elections, the MB is standing up to SCAF on matters of legitimacy and power. Specifically, who gets to write the constitution? Will it be people named by the democratically elected parliament? If not, why?
SCAF held a ridiculous (foreigners-only) press conference Wednesday claiming that the to-be-elected parliament does not “represent Egyptian society” and therefore asserting control over the process of naming the constitution-drafting committee. In response, the MB withdrew from SCAF’s “advisory council” — another ridiculous initiative aimed at legitimizing the military junta’s arbitrary rule and spreading the blame for its failures. (The Arabist has a good wrapup of various coverage; but I think his own view that this is the last gasp of military rule is way too optimistic.) The whole thing should backfire against SCAF: as though Egyptian liberals or their bilingual Facebook friends didn’t read The Guardian! But it might not.
Nicholas Kristof just wrote an amazingly dumb dinner story. Here is mine.
We had dinner today with my lovely friends whom I’ve known for a decade: they are both journalists, with two kids, an apartment full of books, and very liberal views (Arab liberal = favoring liberal democracy, i.e. elected civilian rule with constitutional protection for minorities; they’re also lefty and pointedly secular). Their younger child was born seven days before January 25 but, to the extent possible given two working parents and a newborn, they have been quite active in the revolution. The mom and kids had to go away to her parents’ house in another city during the week their street was flooded with noxious tear gas. In short, they loathe SCAF with every fiber of their being.Ditto for the Brotherhood: when two polite MB canvassers visited their apartment building in October giving out Eid gifts and leaflets and asking where people would pray the Eid prayer, my equally polite friend not only refused their gift but told them he was not planning to pray.
Imagine yourself now in these people’s position. The specter of illiberal democracy is stalking the region. From all sides one hears the words “Turkish model”: for Brotherhood supporters it still means (despite the disenchantment with Erdogan that Piotr Zalewski analyzes here) “moderate, non-corrupt Islamists boost economy and enhance global stature”; but for liberals it now means “the military as guarantor of democracy.” The problem is the transitional process SCAF has designed. But the ironic result is that some liberals may be tacitly turning to the junta for help.
Me: So [the SCAF general] claimed the elections didn’t represent the population? That’s ridiculous.
My friend: No it isn’t.
Me: But they’re free elections. Isn’t that SCAF’s claim too?
Him: But a constitution is not for one five-year electoral cycle; it’s supposed to be forever. It’s the fundamental law that constitutes the political system and decides how the other laws are made. For one parliament elected at one point in time to be allowed to write the constitution would not be fair.
Me: Why not? Aren’t you doing the classic liberal thing, calling for elections and then rejecting the results?
Him: Not really.
Me: You are. If the parliament accurately represents the current views of Egyptian society, which I think we agree it (unfortunately) will, why shouldn’t it be allowed to decide what the political system looks like?
Him: What about protection of minorities?
Me: Hmm.
Him: What if the Islamist parliament appoints a constitution-drafting committee that throws out established principles of human rights? Or backs away from international rights accords that Egypt has signed? What if they only recognize three possible religions — Islam, Christianity, and Judaism — without making room for people who are Bahai or something else or atheist?
Me: Hmm. So just like in the Mubarak days, secular liberals are tolerating the military dictatorship as a bulwark against organized popular Islamism.
Him: No.
Me: You are running to SCAF for help.
Him: No, this is SCAF’s fault in the first place. They put in an absurd set of procedures for the transition: an elected parliament first (before we even know whether Egypt will be a presidential or parliamentary republic or what), then a constitution afterwards. How can you have a parliament before the division of powers? Whereas the Constitution should be the fundamental thing, coming straight from a transitional civilian government, as ElBaradei had initially suggested. If they had really been interested in transferring power…
Me: I know, it’s messed up. But constitutions aren’t forever. They can be amended; they contain procedures for amendment. When the US Constitution was adopted, women couldn’t vote and a black person was only 3/5 of a person.
Him: You can’t have parliament changing the constitution every five years. If people like me managed to elect a Socialist parliament one time, I wouldn’t want them to be able to rewrite the constitution either.
Me: No, you’re right. Plus, constitutional amendments aren’t easy. I just kind of glossed over the whole Civil War thing that those U.S. amendments required.
Him: You see what I mean?
I do. How the hell to have a democracy where 60 years of misrule (or should we count the British and make it 130?) has fried the demos? It’s hard enough everywhere else.
Me: So who would you say should represent Egyptian society for the purpose of writing the constitution?
Him: There are other groups. Syndicates, for instance. The syndicate of doctors, lawyers, engineers. The writers’ union, the syndicate of journalists. (Ah, the journalists.) Give each of those groups a representative. And then give the parties in parliament representatives proportional to their seats, comprising maybe half or two-thirds of the constitutional committee.
I see the appeal of having some intellectuals involved. But — writers and artists appointed by generals, really? Plus, isn’t that pretty much what the SCAF guy said?
So we come back to the scenario of SCAF-MB checks and balances. If the MB can actually win the power to see the military’s budget, and SCAF in turn can help the MB tame rather than appease the probable crazy social-conservative agenda of its Salafi co-parliamentarians (whether they end up being coalition partners or yappy opposition), then the country certainly will not move forward; checks and balances are designed for gridlock. But at least it may get a bit of breathing room and stable-cleaning. That is the only remotely optimistic medium-term outcome I can see.
Varia
Small things:
- Long post on my other blog about a conversation with a prominent theatre director about Shakespeare adaptation. But I have to mention here that while we were talking, his car was robbed: a theatre staffer came to tell him that someone had broken the window, stolen his cashmere overcoat and the money in the pocket, made off with some CDs, even taken his reading glasses. The director carried on with the interview as though nothing had happened.
- The Guardian-Observer calls my book “inspired” and suggests it as a “quirky” Christmas present. Woo hoo!
- Wild rumor circulating about the Salafis: if they come to power, they will try to ban Egyptian women from wearing makeup. But then, wouldn’t the economy grind to a halt completely?
- Tension and mud-slinging (mutual allegations of voting-day irregularities, etc) between the Brotherhood and the Salafi Nour Party as they contest twenty seats in first-round runoff elections today. The Arabist has some good charts on what it could lead to. No telling (because we still don’t know what kind of powers this Parliament will have) what it will mean.
- Nine days later, old-New Prime Minister-designate Kamal Ganzouri has yet to form his “national salvation” government. And all he has to deal with is SCAF and the Egyptian public. Imagine the government-formation process after an election when you would also have to deal with competing parties and political factions?
- Shades of Hamlet? In the lead-up to last week’s polls, not one but two English-language newspapers, AMAY and Ahram Online, ran the headline “To Vote or Not to Vote?” (Thanks, Amy Motlagh.)
From Guantanamo to “post”-“revolutionary” Egypt
We got hope and change and yes we can. They got a revolution. But former Guantanamo detainee and current Egyptian prisoner Adel al-Gazzar has gotten… well, there is no polite way to put it. It seems the War on Terror is still doing its multinational damage.
Injured in an airstrike in Afghanistan, sold for a bounty to Guantanamo, forced to wait eight years (!) after the US cleared him for release, resettled in Slovakia but illegally imprisoned there, the man comes home to Egypt after the revolution and — gets arrested at the airport. Read his whole story here.
My ferociously smart friend Katie Taylor, after working for years in Palestine, is now in London at an NGO called Reprieve, which advocates for the human rights of people on death row and people who are or have been at Guantanamo. She is working on Adel al-Gazzar’s case. She says it’s likely his in-absentia conviction, in a multi-defendant trial based on testimony extracted by torture from co-defendants while Adel sat at Guantanamo, will be overturned on appeal. The Military Prosecution (of course this is a military trial) unexpectedly fast-tracked his hearing a few days before the election; ruling expected as early as tomorrow. Stay tuned.
Putting it gently
Remember the United States of Canada and Jesusland? One friend of mine who lives in Heliopolis (where polisci professor and liberal hottie Amr Hamzawy has beaten out the FJP candidate for the individual seat) just jokingly offered political asylum to her friends from other districts.

Oh, and Al-Masry al-Youm, in its front-page editorial today, reminds its (predominantly liberalish) readers that the Islamist candidates who seem to have won a majority in the first round yesterday are indeed Egyptians. “Their ideological allegiance should not make us deny their Egyptianness, their citizenship, or their ambition to participate in politics.” And it adds, a bit alarmingly:
Before the Islamic current are numerous examples of successful experiments of majority-Islamist parliaments. The [Egyptian] people wants [الشعب يريد] it to be closer to the Turkish experiment than to the Afghan one.
Umm, by “the Afghan experiment” do you mean the lloya jirga, or the Taliban?


