By the way: my father-in-law, as a young man in Chicago, went to his voting place. “Here,” said the helpful campaign volunteer. “We have these new voting booths now, let me show you how they work.” The worker went into the booth with him, behind the curtain. “You see, the levers work like this. So, say, if you wanted to vote a straight Democratic ticket, you would just go like this–” and he proceeded to pull them for him! I have not, so far, heard of anything like that happening here. All the reports we’ve heard of the Brotherhood employing children to distribute leaflets, driving voters to the polls, directing them to polling places with maps printed on FJP stationery, etc. etc. pale in comparison.
Category Archives: Uncategorized
And who’s getting the next round?
Hey friends who are political scientists or Lebanese: how do multi-round elections, with staggered dates for different parts of the country and well-publicized early rounds, tend to affect voter behavior and election results?
Egypt’s amazingly cumbersome parliamentary election process, as though designed (like Iraq’s) to produce gridlock and purple-finger fatigue, is scheduled to go on till March. (The Al-Jazeera graphic linked above looks like something developed by Rube Goldberg — and it’s not AJE’s fault.) Monday and Tuesday’s voting was only for the first of three rounds of the lower of two houses. Individual-candidate results are supposed to be released today, but list-based results won’t be available till January, and the Shura Council (upper house) elections won’t start till after that. Oh and some candidates are running for both (imagine, like campaigning simultaneously for the house and the Senate?)
The problem is that meanwhile, someone needs to put together a government, because the (non-)care-taker Essam Sharaf government has, you will remember, tendered its resignation. The Muslim Brotherhood, on the strength of (its own) exit polls giving its Freedom and Justice Party 40% in the first round, has claimed the right to form that government. The Salafi Nour party has contested this, claiming (plausibly) that it stands to pick up a lot of seats when the voting finally gets to Upper Egypt. And SCAF points out that under (its own) constitutional declaration, the executive (in this case SCAF – surprise!) gets to form the government, with no binding input from the recently elected parliamentarians. But they did convene a group of political “symbols” (those presidential contenders and activists who didn’t skip the meeting) to advise them on its makeup. If the Brotherhood decides to take on SCAF, it could be interesting.

October Mag: "Who Will Rescue Egypt?"
A word on “national salvation,” the term still being used to describe the hypothetical next government. No one calls it “national unity” government, because that would imply getting differing parties together and making them actually listen to each other. Instead it is a rhetoric of a single body politic (Hobbes, anyone?) in danger, in need of “rescue.” Anyone who wants to throw a conflicting view into this underlying unanimity — like the protesters still camped in the Midan — is accused of having “private interests”; these, ever since Nasser’s leftist fascism pre-empted Egypt’s liberal project, have been a dirty word.
A week ago, I thought that putting the parliamentary elections first was a terrible move. The opposite process would have produced less instability, less animosity: quick presidential elections within 60 days as mandated by Egypt’s 1971 constitution, then a constitutional convention, and then parliamentary elections once it was determined what the political system would look like. Or even something like Tunisia’s process. Instead Egypt got a summer of mud-slinging and dirty campaign tricks, largely eroding the much-vaunted “spirit of Tahrir.”
But now I think the opposite argument is nearly as valid. With a real choice at the polls (albeit in most cases only between the machine-politics Islamism of the Brotherhood and the ultra-moralizing Islamism of the Salafis) perhaps Egyptian voters may start to feel that differing opinions, even differing interests need not pose a fatal threat to national cohesion. That it is possible for two citizens to disagree politically without one of them necessarily being a traitor. This is a hope rather than a prediction; such tolerance is hard to achieve even in places with a long history of liberal politics. But you do hear people on the phone with their relatives discussing whom to vote for, or reacting to the election results, and it is not all “we are obviously right and they are obviously evil.” This may be precisely because there are so many flavors of Islamism on offer, and likewise so much fragmentation among the liberals, two facts that commentators have generally seen as bad.
Meanwhile the “interests=treason” rhetoric (which I hate, can you tell?) may have its uses, too. The independent weekly Sawt Al-Umma (unfortunately not available online) ran a big investigative piece last week with lavish photos of the villas owned by Field Marshal Tantawi and other SCAF members, and the deeply discounted contracts under which they bought them. Front-page headline: the word “VOID” in gigantic letters, under Tantawi’s signature olive-green cap. An inside subheading: “How the SCAF leaders changed from living in humble apartments in officers’ residence blocks into billionnaires and palace owners in the Mubarak years.” Still doesn’t get to the military’s stranglehold on the economy as a whole, but it’s a start.
This is Not a Play
Last Friday night we went with my friend Maha, whom I’ve told you about, to see a performance called “Tahrir Monologues” at the Rawabet Theatre downtown. (Strong review here, less admiring review here.) “This is not a play,” declared the program notes: it was documentary theatre, a pretty moving series of monologues based on interviews with participants in the Eighteen Days that toppled Mubarak. It started hesitant and built to triumphant: the boy who put on four layers of clothes so he could “withstand police beatings and keep going,” the girl who felt mildly guilty because she went home to sleep each night instead of camping out in the square, the young people who saw something within themselves change as they gained courage by confronting the regime’s brutality.
Rawabet was packed, and some of the energy probably came from the fact that many in the audience had been to that day’s unified and celebratory (though Islamist-dominated) demonstration in Tahrir. Audience members who had lived the Jan-Feb events nodded, laughed, and quietly commented: yes, it was exactly like that. But their feeling of nostalgia competed with an odd sense of unfinished business. There they were, back in Tahrir. The show’s voice-over intro had stressed the psychological achievements of the 18 days, the sense of dignity and fearlessness that Egyptians would carry “regardless of whatever happens after this.” For the moment, having successfully mustered a huge number of protesters to demand SCAF hand over power to a civilian government, they felt engaged again.
Then on Saturday the violence started. Yesterday (Tues) I texted Maha to check in. She texted back:
Thank u Marg. I go to work in the morning and Tahrir in the evening. Talk to the media if u can, Arabic or English, public or private. Tell them the people in Tahrir r butchered savagely. Tell them we r not thugs. No thug will carry on with the fight for so long.
The Rawabet Theatre collected dropped-off blankets and medical supplies.
Today we texted again.
It’s a war zone there Marg. U can’t imagine.
Pray for those on the front line and those on motorcycles carrying them outside when they r injured. They r so brave Marg. No masks, but they whiz in to the front line and come back.
I have seen more bravery in 2 days than I saw in my entire life.
What was this business about needing to tell people the protesters are not thugs? (“Thugs” here, baltagiya, often means not just troublemakers, but people paid to be violent.) That’s certainly not how the media in my country are covering it (look, Anthony Shadid is finally here!). British papers either, I think.
But tonight I talked with my downstairs neighbor, a respectable woman in her 70s. She had the TV going, an independent channel but on mute, so just huge images of chaos in Tahrir. She shook her head. “It’s just wrong,” she said. I thought she meant the tear gas and live ammunition. Instead: “These people have lost their minds. Isn’t there someone reasonable to tell them that this is wrong, that they should go home and stop ruining the country?” And that is the charitable view, basically the one advanced by Tantawi in his speech last night. Those poor misguided children. I’ve heard versions of it even from people sympathetic to the protesters (but concerned that the elections go ahead on time, or worried that the economy is at a standstill and the country almost bankrupt, etc.). A short hop from there to thinking these naive or too-stubborn protesters are open to being manipulated or paid.
As long as I’m reporting vicariously through Maha, let me tell you what she once told me about the eighteen days. The hardest part, she said, was after Mubarak’s Feb 2 speech where he offered all the apparent concessions, offering to resign in September and promising Gamal would not run to replace him. That’s when people started calling the protesters terrible names, blaming them for being stubborn and unreasonable, unwilling to compromise, for destroying the country. The same words some people are saying now. “But he gave you everything you were demanding! What else do you want?” Then came the camel battle; Mubarak resigned 9 days later.
The street and the square
They caught three foreigners in the square this morning and paraded them on state TV – Americans, with ID cards from AUC. [Update – Leila Fadel & co at WaPo have a good article on this and surrounding events.] You can’t trust the broadcast (which claimed the protesters “apprehended and handed them over” to security forces), but perhaps these guys really had been stupid enough to be agitating on the front lines, throwing Molotovs. SCAF, desperate for a narrative after three straight days of shooting Egyptian demonstrators in the face in front of video cameras, trotted out the old chestnut about foreign conspiracies and “invisible hands.” Since my husband and I are also Americans with AUC IDs, we reluctantly but quickly decided not to go to today’s milyoniyya. Our presence there would help no one.
Of course it has been impossible to do much of anything else, either. However, parts of our neighborhoods (today we were in Dokki and Mohandiseen) do appear to be functioning as usual.
On the way to the Samar restaurant to buy my son a foul sandwich tonight (what could be more nutritious than pita bread with beans? should I complain that he sometimes won’t eat my cooking?), we walked past a group of men sitting outside an ironing shop. They were glued to the TV, which for several hours had been announcing that the Mushir (field marshal) was “about to deliver a speech to the nation.” (Remember the final days of Mubarak?) They wanted to know whether we were heading to Tahrir (we explained why we weren’t). There did not agree on what should happen next. One guy (maybe in his 50s) thought the Mushir should resign. An older man didn’t even understand the proposition: “Resign? Why? And then who will rule?” Others seemed torn between hand-wringing and anticipation, but they clearly didn’t have a strong opinion about what should happen next. (We live in a normal perhaps lower-middle-class-but-beginning-to-gentrify neighborhood in Dokki.)
So perhaps SCAF’s latest scheme of forming its own “national salvation government” will appease Mohieddine Aboul Ezz street, if not Tahrir Square. Early reports suggest they’ll try to form an interim government under some generally respected prime minister like Baradei or Abdel Moneim Abdel Futouh (two very different options – I’m amazed they would be willing to get into bed with SCAF but that’s another conversation), go ahead with parliamentary elex next week (!), and hold presidential elections in July. No word yet about the constitution, which helped spark this whole thing.
CR Gas: combat-class chemical weapon, made in the USA
People recovering cannisters in Tahrir and indep news outlets are reporting that the military may be using CR gas, not regular tear gas, on protesters. It’s causing side effects (like spitting blood), unseen in the January wave of protests. [Update: I posted this last night and then took it down because someone Tweeted saying it was something else, a variant of CN gas, which seems to be less carcinogenic. Does anyone have verification?
But I’m putting this post back up: there are still reports from the square that it’s CR gas.] According to Wikipedia this stuff is a suspected carcinogen, one reason its use is banned in the United States.Yet it is made (for export?) in the USA. Further (still from Wikipedia): “The U.S. military classification for this chemical agent is combat class chemical weapon.” And also: if a space is poorly ventilated, a lethal dose can be inhaled in minutes.
Bikyamasr adds: “The company producing the gas being used in Egypt, Combined Tactical Systems of Jamestown, Pennsylvania in the United States, refused to respond to Bikyamasr.com requests for information pertaining to expired canisters and its effects on people.” (Click the link inside the quote to browse CTS’ impressive “non-lethal munitions” catalogue.) An interesting ProPublica backgrounder on U.S. State Department approval of “dual-purpose” (military and civilian) crowd-control gas exports to Egypt, written back in February, is here.
Despite the reports that the cannisters are past their expiration date, Youm7 reports (which may be even more worrying) that they were manufactured in August 2010 for use before 2015. Which means they were sold to Egypt exactly when?
Call your congresspeople, folks! And the White House. In the past, our elected leaders have had strong opinions about a ruler using combat-grade chemical weapons on his own population. There’s also a petition to the company’s CEO circulating online; consider signing, for what it’s worth.
Last night, cartoonist Carlos Latuff was already on the case. More anger than wit here, but that’s understandable: the moment seems to call for direct projectiles.

[This was around 2 or 3am. Meanwhile Naguib Suweiris’ independent station ON-TV, between cheese commercials and interviews with Tahrir veterans and the mother and sister of an Alexandria martyr, was showing nonstop political ads for the elections scheduled for one week from today. Does anyone still think these will happen?]
Normal travel (3): A trip to Maspero
Even as widely respected Minister of Culture Emad Abu Ghazi (bless him) was resigning in protest, I was in a taxi heading to the State Radio and TV Building, the famous Maspero. Violence was continuing in Tahrir, but other than some people massed under the bridge, some shouts and whistles, I didn’t see or hear anything.
I had been invited to Maspero by Moatazz al-Agami, host of the weekly radio show Theatre Panorama, to record an interview about Shakespeare in Egypt. It was pretty surreal: rolls of barbed wire outside the building (has probably been there for quite a while), a line of green-uniformed soldiers with helmets and rifles in the building lobby, more soldiers between the metal detectors and the stairs as we walked up, then every sign of business as usual upstairs. I was introduced to the sound technician and offered tea, then we listened to bits of a vintage radio play of Mohamed Hamdi’s (1912) translation of Julius Caesar and recorded a very polite highbrow conversation about the appropriation of Shakespeare (I explained why I preferred not to talk about Shakespeare’s “influence”) on the Egyptian stage.
Hamdi, living his own liberationist moment in the long run-up to the 1919 revolution, had described Shakespeare (as my friend Sameh Fekry Hanna points out) as “the democratic English poet.” Other Egyptian interpreters have read Julius Caesar differently. Gamal Abdel Nasser acted the role of Caesar in 1935 (yes!) as “the hero of the masses and victor over Great Britain.” And generations of conservatives and co-opted liberals have read the play as exposing the chaos that ensues when rebels, however well-meaning, overthrow an autocrat, however overweening.
The part of the Maspero building I saw was beyond shabby. “Our facilities are from the Middle Ages,” my host apologized. They don’t yet have Internet, though shiny new jacks have been installed in preparation, right behind a tangle of dusty wires. Some of the recording equipment looked antique. The women’s toilet was clogged. Pieces of the wall by the stairs were missing. But my host was graciousness itself, and the recording session seemed to go fine. It is supposed to air this Thursday at 10:30 on 91.5 FM.
Normal Travel II: On not going to Tahrir
Actually, it is true that “normal travel can continue.” We are in Zamalek today – met with our teacher in the Supreme Council of Culture at the Opera complex, one metro stop and less than a kilometer from our usual classroom in Tahrir, and it was all coffee as usual. Later, at the Beano’s coffee shop in Zamalek, we saw people in business clothes sitting and typing away on their laptops just under big flat TV screens showing a footage loop of protesters in Mohamed Mahmoud Street throwing stones at police (and, since this was state TV, not showing the police firing at protesters, aiming — to judge by the reported injuries – for their eyes). As though it were happening in some other country. I wanted a photo of the juxtaposition but was afraid it would make people self-conscious. In the rest of the city, too, all the action is on TV (except maybe you hear some gunshots at night? and sirens?).
Although I really want to, I’m not going to Tahrir today. Because 1) this is not my country, and 2) I’m not a journalist or a doctor, just a literature professor, so I think it would just be voyeurism, not even useful solidarity. I don’t need to smell the tear gas; I might even be in the way. You can find the real news on Twitter and Facebook today or look for a live stream of ONTV Egypt or read any of the many wonderful English-language newspapers and blogs. The story is being told so well, by so many articulate voices and talented photographers, in English and Arabic. The situation is not at all like when I started studying Arabic in 1997.
Will post photos from Friday’s demo (the happy peaceful part I attended) when I get a chance. The best chant was addressed by the protesters to each other, not to the regime (which was anyway not listening): “Say it say it, don’t be scared, the Military Council has to go” (قول، قول، ما تخافش، المجلس العسكري لازم يمشي). It sounded aspirational 48 hours ago, perhaps more imaginable now. Things are evolving fast. (On Qasr El-Nil bridge on Friday, the demand was for SCAF’s long-ago-promised transfer of power to a civilian government by April 2012; the guy trying to push for earlier, starting a chant of “سلم السلطة يا عميل، مش هنستنى حتى ابريل” got shouted down.)
Basically I see two forces in play. Both involve (well-founded) suspicion and distrust. The first is the distrust felt by the political groupings for each other: secular vs. Islamist, or organized groups like MB vs. come-latelies like the Salafis. The second is the distrust felt by all the civilian groups toward SCAF and its tendency to hold onto power. How will these two types of distrust balance each other over time? Which will be stronger?
Normal Travel Can Continue
Because our tickets here were bought through a university travel agency, we receive frequent “International SOS” travel notices. These alerts read as though written from a nearby planet rather similar to our own, only, say, with air containing some other element instead of oxygen. They are oddly accurate – even using terms such as “disillusionment” and such phrases as “perceptions of Mubarak-style authoritarianism by the military rulers” and yet impossible to map onto any world we recognize, perhaps from an exaggerated effort to be objective: “Fattah [not Abdel Fattah for some reason] has been detained on charges of inciting sectarian unrest” or “this is despite the SCAF’s recent concessions to protesters.” The other surreal thing that’s hard for me to convey here is the flatness of perspective, the lack of proportion. Major and minor incidents are reported in almost the same tone, as though what interested me was basically their effect on traffic. Whereas we could be witnessing the “second wave” of the revolution that several of my friends have long been predicting.
Imagine the effect these notices would have on a businessperson who doesn’t know this country well, doesn’t understand Cairo geography, who perhaps doesn’t have great news sources and is traveling to Egypt for the first time on some random business trip or other? What the hell do they mean, “Normal travel can continue,” when all they are doing is scaring people?
We received a couple of them yesterday and so far two today. The security concerns aren’t crazy: Last night I gave a lecture at Cairo University, halfway across town from Tahrir Square where the current violence is localized; it went beautifully (thanks to the presence of theatre director Hani Afifi and his lead actor Mohamed Fahim) but was attended only by those, mainly English dept faculty, who really felt they had to be there — there were plenty of students around earlier in the afternoon, but they seemed to have hurried home to their parents rather than stick around after dark for a 5pm talk. But the cumulative effect of these emails, arriving every few hours now, is pretty surreal.
Without further comment, I reproduce the travel notice here.
Medical Alerts and Travel Security Online
Egypt: Situation remains tense as police clash with protesters in Cairo, Alexandria, Suez
Clashes overnight on 19-20 November continued between the security forces and pro-democracy activists in several urban centres around the country, particularly the capital Cairo, Alexandria (Alexandria governorate) and Suez (Suez governorate); at least two people have reportedly been killed and more than 675 others injured in the unrest, in which security personnel used batons, tear gas and rubber bullets to disperse participants. Reports indicate that related protests also took place in the cities of Damietta (Damietta governorate), Ismailia (Ismailia governorate), Mahalla (Gharbia governorate) and Mansoura (Dakahlia governorate).
The unrest in the capital occurred on Mohamed Mahmoud Street, near the interior ministry building, and in the vicinity of the central Tahrir Square. Unconfirmed reports indicate that demonstrators have erected barricades around Tahrir Square and reoccupied the area after the security forces dispersed encamped activists from the site earlier on 19 November. In Alexandria, several thousand protesters staged a march to the security directorate building. In Suez, demonstrators reportedly engaged in vandalism and marched to a police station before being dispersed by the security forces.
Comment and Analysis
The situation remains fluid and sporadic confrontations between demonstrators and the security forces are likely across the country, particularly in the aforementioned cities. As highlighted by the recent clashes, attendant security force personnel are likely to employ forceful crowd-control measures to disperse unruly protesters; such occurrences would pose indirect risks to bystanders. Traffic disruption should also be anticipated around Tahrir Square and other popular rallying locations in the coming hours, due to the presence of large crowds of protesters or heightened security measures.
The clashes on 19 November, which involved members of the so-called ‘Ultras’ football supporters group, who have a history of violent confrontations with the security forces, were said to have broken out after riot police were deployed to Tahrir Square to clear several hundred protesters that had erected an encampment at the location following a protest on the previous day. The 18 November demonstration, which was attended by tens of thousands of activists and supported by several political groups, was held to demand that the interim ruling Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF) speed up the process of transition to civilian rule. Demonstrations against the SCAF – mainly over its ambitions and alleged abuses of power – have occurred on a frequent basis in recent weeks, attracting large crowds.
Disillusionment with the interim government remains widespread among the population and protests against the SCAF are expected to continue in the run-up to the parliamentary elections, due to commence on 28 November. This is despite the SCAF’s recent concessions to protesters, including an agreement to alter Article 5 of the country’s electoral law, which stipulates that one third of seats in parliament be reserved for independent candidates. Various other issues remain unresolved, among them are the continued opposition to the emergency laws, the possibility of the SCAF remaining in office until 2013 under a protracted electoral timetable, as well as the role (if any) of Sharia (Islamic law) and the military in the new constitution. In addition, perceptions of Mubarak-style authoritarianism by the military rulers, or the latter’s prolonged governance, have the potential to trigger large-scale rallies and strikes.
Travel Advice
- Normal travel can continue.
- Avoid all rallies because of the credible risk of localised unrest. Liaise with your hotel and hosts on the timing and location of any planned activity.
- Protests, which carry a credible risk of unrest, might occur in response to national political developments. In the event of violence, foreigners are unlikely to be targeted, but may be at incidental risk.
- Ensure that you are fully briefed on the situation prior to travel and monitor events for signs of rising tension prior to and during your stay. Establish reliable information sources, taking care to distinguish between fact and rumour.
- Ensure that you know what to do in the event of a security incident, such as localised unrest, during your stay.
- Exercise heightened awareness in the vicinity of sensitive locations. These include (but are not limited to) government buildings, police stations, military barracks and Tahrir Square.
- Treat members of the security forces you encounter with patience and respect. Carry photographic identification and follow all instructions promptly.
- This advice is not exhaustive; liaise with local contacts and consult the Standing Travel Advice for Egypt.
Please do not reply to this email.
SCAF’s strategic (?) failure to make law
The banners keep multiplying and the party alliances shifting, but I find it hard to get too excited about the parliamentary elections next week. Not because of any possible rigging, but because there’s some chance the results will simply be disregarded. For instance it is easy to imagine the parliament being sidelined in the drafting of the new constitution… or the constitution itself being sidelined… like the draft “constitutional principles” document that has provoked a big fight even though no one knows whether it will be binding or not.
Remember all fuss about the constitutional amendments referendum back in the spring? Amendments were proposed to five articles of the 1971 Constitution, and the referendum kept civil society preoccupied for weeks. The “no” side objected, among other things, to the overly broad powers still granted to the presidency – they claimed the amendments were just a “tiny operation” (implication, according to this nasty ad subtitled by my friend Hazem Azmy: the amendments are like a hymen restoration surgery for a basically fallen system of government). The “yes” side spun the “no” vote as an effort to de-Islamize Egyptian law (since Article 2 said and would continue to say that shari`a is the basic reference of Egyptian law) and turned out in force to defend religion, spinning its resulting victory as “ghazwat al-sanadiq,” the holy conquest of the ballot boxes (as in this infamous video also subtitled by Hazem).
All that seems like ancient history now. SCAF just annulled the whole constitution, amendments and all, and issued a new Provisional Constitution. Unclear why. Did they belatedly discover (!) that if the amended 1971 Constitution were left standing then their own rule would have no constitutional legitimacy, since it stipulates the Speaker of Parliament should take over if the president resigns? Or did they have some other reason? Was it their plan all along? Since then they have been ruling by proclamation, trial balloon, and Facebook page decree. Everything they do (as my teacher Sayyed Ismail Dayfallah points out) looks like improvisation but somehow has the effect of increasing their power.
In the “Why Rule of Law?” seminar I taught in the Georgetown government department in 2005 and 2006, we read from a brilliant little book called The Morality of Law by Lon Fuller. Among other things, Fuller presents this list, which I assigned in tandem with an excerpt from Kafka’s The Trial:
Eight Ways to Fail to Make Law
From Lon Fuller, The Morality of Law (1964)1) Make case-by-case decisions rather than general rules.
2) Make rules, but neglect to publicize them.
3) Make rules whose application is retroactive.
4) Make rules that are too obscure to be readily understood.
5) Make rules that contradict each other.
6) Make rules requiring conduct that is physically impossible.
7) Change the rules so frequently that behavior cannot be guided by them.
8) In your actual administration, disregard the rules.
Fuller’s prose is quaint, but his issues are relevant. The book grows from his deep concern with the legal system in post-Nazi Germany: how to move from a state of no law to a state of law? What to do with the remnants of the old regime (such as illegal laws)? How to create and enforce — and I think this is what the people of all stripes marching to Tahrir right now and tomorrow are demanding, and unfortunately they can do little more than demand it — a government bound by law?
Whose food security?
Back in Cairo, I went out with my kids to buy vegetables and saw a store I had never noticed before, called الأمن الغذائي (“Food Security”), on an obscure block of Mosaddak Street. The man minding the store turned away from the Quran Channel to welcome us effusively and show us all his wares (this is where it helps to bring along a cherubic two-year-old): olive oil, honey, jam, beef, chicken (fresh whole, fresh parts, frozen, breaded, etc.), frozen peas.
Me: What does Food Security mean?
The Man: Food Security of the Armed Forces.
Me: Huh? Everything sold here is produced by the armed forces?
Him: Yes. Top quality!
Me: I’ve never noticed this place before.
Him: We’ve only been here for about six months. (So, May 2011.)
Me: So… are you with the military as well? (He did not look it.)
Him: No, I’m just the agent (wakil). See, we have chicken panee, ready to cook, and also some (pointing to own legs; I love it when people do this) drumsticks, and thighs…
Me: Says on this olive oil it’s from Sinai. And the honey too?
Him: Yes! From the farms of the armed forces there.
Me: Ya salaam.
Him: Yeah, it’s delicious.
Me: And the whole chicken, how much do you sell it for?
Him: 21 LE/kilo.
Me: Wow. That’s really good. Way better than the supermarket.
Him: And it’s baladi (i.e., country; in this context, possibly free-range): from the Armed Forces farms.
Me: Hmm. Too bad I just bought some chicken at the other store.
Him: Well, maybe tomorrow.
Me: Inshallah.
I did buy a small bottle of olive oil. Will let you know how it is; looks a good rich green color. Do we think it has been subjected to an extra virginity test?
I wondered whether I could take a picture of the place – it’s illegal to photograph in military installations. (Then as we were leaving the man pulled out his phone and took a few pictures of my daughter. Who obligingly smiled and waved, like the diva she has become.) But of course there’s no secrecy at all: providing subsidized food products is an official and integral part of the mission of the Armed Forces. The military-owned Food Security Corporation is listed in the phone book, food price bloggers eagerly follow its prices, and you can find old price lists (from several years back) online.
For what it’s worth: my quick Google search also turned up a commenter on an Ikhwan web forum about food safety a couple of months ago: she complained that she had found an English-language label inside some Food Security meat she had bought, after the store clerk had assured her it was from the Armed Forces’ local farms. The label said “made in India.” Her comment: “Have we resorted to eating the beef of the Hindus?”
By the way, the rumor about military ownership of the beach resort we visited at Ayn Sokna was roundly denied. Which was good, because I liked the place. “No, no, the owner here is Mr. … Yes, he’s a civilian. You’re thinking of the Petrojet resort down the road.” Petrojet = the national oil company, whose gas stations dot that beautiful highway. Like the Food Security Corporation, it’s based in Heliopolis: near the Military Academy and the (former) presidential palace and lots of other military installations, military clubs, parks, etc. A city within a city for a state within a state.