The Chronikler

This column appeared in the Guardian newspaper's Comment is Free section on 17 July 2010. Read the full discussion here.

Belgium is on the verge of becoming the first country in the world to pass a law which would punish people who, in public, partially or fully cover their faces in such a way that they are no longer recognisable. Despite the broadness of the law, it has been dubbed the "burqa ban" because anyone caught wearing a burqa, which covers the entire body from head to toe, or a niqab, a face veil which leaves the eyes exposed, could face up to seven days imprisonment.

As a Flemish woman of Algerian origin, I can only welcome this bill. How can any western Muslim woman bring herself to wear the burqa, the internationally recognised symbol of exclusion in Afghanistan, and say that this has nothing to do with the oppression and the undervaluing of women?

In my parents' homeland, Algeria, the burqa is not welcome and people don't appreciate the typical black niqab imported from Saudi Arabia. Whereas women in a burqa or niqab are stared at in Brussels, in Algeria, they are tormented. A few years ago, a woman in a black niqab and her bearded husband boarded a bus in Algiers and, a few minutes later, they were hounded off by their fellow passengers.

I think Algerians see the face veil as a symbol of the fear and terror they experienced in the 1990s at the hands of the religious fundamentalist that swept the country at that time. They know well the religio-political message hiding behind this veil.

I am bewildered that various human rights organisations are against this ban. According to Amnesty International, a general ban on veils is a human rights infringement that contravenes people's freedom of religion and their freedom of expression.

Is Amnesty not aware that, mainly prior to the 11 September attacks, religious fanatics gained political asylum in the west, under the banner of freedom of religion and expression, and from here carried on their struggle to create theocracies in their homelands? Sometimes, I suspect that human rights groups are more occupied with theory and ideology than the reality on the ground.

Human Rights Watch is against the ban because society is obliged to protect women's freedom of choice. According to HRW, an individual approach is necessary when dealing with these issues. Does that mean that the government needs to assess the wardrobe choice of every woman and ask her whether or not she was forced to wear the burqa or niqab?

Baas Over Eigen Hoofd (BOEH!), a broad-based platform of Belgian Muslim and non-Muslim women's organisations whose name means literally "Boss of my Own Head", believes that no specific law is necessary because this issue only affects a handful of women. The notion that we should ignore this problem because it is so insignificant has something of the politics of the ostrich about it. The situation in other European countries indicates that the problem in Belgium is likely to get worse.

Muslim groups are also against the ban. The state-appointed Muslim Executive, which a few years ago declared that the burqa was not a religious symbol and that it was contrary to Islam, now calls this proposed ban "discriminatory". They, too, are labelling this a freedom of religion issue.

I once thought that the struggle waged by various Muslim organisations was one for acceptance, the acceptance of Muslim citizens as fellow citizens. I did not realise it was about the burqa or the niqab. Now, I'm beginning to doubt the noble intentions of some of these groups. Take, for example, the extremist group Sharia4Belgium which recently publicised its wish to turn Belgium into an Islamic state.

This article first appeared in the Guardian newspaper's Comment is Free section on 23 April 2010. Read the full discussion here. Republished here with the author's consent.

The current political debate in Egypt can be summed up in one sentence: parties and activists of all political colours are campaigning to end almost 30 years of President Hosni Mubarak's rule and stop his son, Gamal, from inheriting power and returning Egypt to the dynastic era. 

For the time being, the opposition is united by anti-Mubarakism, despite comprising elements that have traditionally been fierce rivals, such as Islamists, liberals and Nasserists. Umbrella movements like Kifaya and the 6 April Youth Movement are a good example of broad-based groups which draw Egyptians from different political, religious and social backgrounds. 

In fact, the unity of the opposition is not a sign of love or matching ideologies but merely reflects the realisation that breaking Mubarak's stranglehold on power requires the kind of broad-based popular alliance last seen during Egypt's resistance to foreign occupation. The different parties also understand that the emergence of democracy in Egypt is their only realistic chance of reaching power through legitimate means and by way of a smooth transition. 

This means that the current alliance's shelf-life is linked to the emergence of democracy. Once that is achieved, the gloves will come off and the traditional rivalries will float, once again, to the surface. 

This poses an important question: when the time comes, what kind of post-Mubarak political scene will emerge? 

Egypt's increasing religiosity has coincided with a globalised society in which modern concepts of human rights are being adopted by more and more Egyptians. This discrepancy will make it harder for secularists and Islamists to find common ground. 

The negative view of secularism in the mind of the majority of Egyptians would be central to the future debate. In our religious society, people confuse secularism with Ataturk-style anti-religiosity and sometimes with atheism. Ironically, many practicing Muslims believe in the separation of religion and state without calling it secularism or even recognising that this makes them secular.

This misguided understanding of secularism in Egypt is a barrier to democracy. This is because, although most Egyptians profess to being religious, many fear the intolerance and potential totalitarianism of Islamic rule if Islamists, including the ostensibly "moderate" Muslim Brotherhood, gain power. For that reason, they prefer authoritarian secularism to a democratically elected Islamic government which they fear would transform Egypt into a radical theocracy. 

Ismail Sherif, who is studying to become a filmmaker, thinks some people are resistant to change out of the fear that it might lead to unfavourable consequences. "Even though most people in the film industry would prefer a secular authoritarian regime to an elected Islamic government, we have to accept that risk in order for democracy to happen," he says.

 How can we overcome all this fear and resistance to change? In order for change in Egypt to be broadly supported, it should not be radical. While it is still fighting dictatorship and a state of emergency, the opposition in Egypt should keep one eye on the future and agree the framework they all want to work under. 

The huge popular support for Mohamed Elbaradei, former chief of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) and Nobel peace prize winner, gives hope that change in Egypt doesn't have to be led by Islamists with questionable democratic credentials. In fact, it reveals that, despite the government's better efforts in recent decades to crush viable secular alternatives and present the Muslim Brotherhood and Islamists as the only alternative to frighten secularists and the international community, secularism is far from dead in Egypt.

The Mubarak regime has a long history of stifling the emergence of a viable and popular secular opposition. Prior to ElBaradei, Ayman Nour, despite all the hurdles placed in his path, gave Mubarak a respectable run for his money during the 2005 presidential elections. Afterwards, he was thrown into jail on trumped-up charges. In addition to allaying the fear of Egyptians that the only alternative to Mubarak is an Islamist theocracy, secular Egyptians need to correct the misconceptions ordinary Egyptians have about secularism.

They need to explain that ilmaniya (Arabic for secularism) is different from antipathy to religion. For instance, Barack Obama is a proud Christian, yet he is also the president of a multifaith secular country.

Egyptian secularists also need to remind people that Egyptians were never as united as they were when they fought occupation and a monarchy under the slogan "Religion is for God, and the nation is for everyone". Moreover, in order for Egypt's opposition to gain support and win ground internally and internationally, it has to be based on universal human rights and not discriminate on the basis of religion, gender, etc. An Islamic regime won't provide this, but secularism based on e equality for all will.

This column appeared in The Guardian Unlimited’s Comment is Free section on 29 March 2010. Read the related discussion.

Published here with the author's permission. ©Osama Diab. All rights reserved.

Egypt's President Hosni Mubarak has appeared on state television in a bid to lay to rest premature rumours of his death. The Egyptian leader is currently in Germany recovering from surgery on his gall bladder.

Since news broke of his "routine" surgery on 6 March, Egypt has been filled with speculation about the real state of Mubarak's health and, with reports that a benign tumour was also removed, there have even been wild rumours that the president is actually dead and that the government has been covering this up to buy time.

Against this backdrop of uncertainty, the Egyptian stock exchange lost around 5% but the latest footage has brought calm to the jittery market.

While the death of a president would be disruptive in any country, in Egypt it carries a special significance because Mubarak has been the only show in town for the past three decades and the ageing and ailing dictator has no clear successor.

At nearly 82 years of age, Baba Mubarak, as he is mockingly known, is certainly no spring chicken and could die at any moment. With such a realistic prospect on the horizon, many Egyptians are rightly apprehensive about what would happen if the president suddenly passed away before next year's presidential elections.

In Egypt, the state of the president's health has long been something of a taboo, with journalists running the risk of arrest for broaching the topic, and so this newfound openness is actually arousing suspicion in some people's minds.

"The fact that they are releasing news about Mubarak's health is an improvement," Kholoud Khalifa, a young Egyptian journalist, said. "One reason for this is that Mubarak has now fully groomed his son, Gamal, for the top job," she speculates.

So, what would happen if the president were suddenly to breathe his last?

While many Egyptians are hopeful for change, as I highlighted in a recent article, they do not realistically expect the dawn of democracy – at least, not full democracy – once Mubarak is out of the way.

"We are not a revolutionary people. Anything that can be counted as revolutionary change in this country is almost invariably brought about by a small minority," my friend Ahmed opined over dinner in a Cairo restaurant.

Many reform-minded Egyptians disagree with this received wisdom. "The regime has so suppressed opposition and ingrained apathy in the masses that people no longer believe they can change anything," assesses Khalifa.

Based on conversations with numerous people, it would seem the most expected scenario is the emergence of a Mubarak dynasty, in the guise of son Gamal, albeit with a more democratic facade. The current constitution, which was rejigged in Mubarak's favour before the last elections in 2005, states that, in the event of the president's sudden death, the speaker of the house – Ahmed Fathi Sorour, a staunch Mubarak loyalist – would hold executive power temporarily, until elections can be called.

"There will be elections, most certainly, but how democratic they will be, no one can tell," said Ahmed. "I think Gamal Mubarak will be the [ruling] National Democratic party's candidate, and the NDP candidate will most likely win – and fair and square."

This is partly because Egyptians, sceptical as they are about politics and politicians, would rather the devil they knew, and partly because the officially approved opposition does not possess a viable candidate.

Miriam, another friend, believes this is no accident. "The NDP has stacked the system and the odds so in its own favour that its candidate will win without the need for any actual, crude cheating," she observes.

And considering Mubarak's tight grip on power in Egypt for the past 30 years, a surprising number of ordinary Egyptians would freely vote for his son in free elections, despite the growing power of the "anything but Mubarak" movement.

Moreover, Gamal, with his background in banking, is a popular choice among Egypt's business elite. "Economists and anyone who is in business would be quite happy for Gamal to take over because he will provide the kind of continuity and stability, as well as the economic competence, the Egyptian economy needs to thrive," the head of an Egyptian stock brokerage firm told me.

In addition to Gamal's perceived safe pair of hands, my brother Osama believes this backing for the Mubarak clan is also a manifestation of some kind of Stockholm syndrome among a hostage population half of which has known no other leader. In fact, Osama would not be at all surprised if, despite the current apathy towards Hosni Mubarak, there would be a significant outpouring of public sympathy for him once he died.

Personally, though I am no supporter of Gamal Mubarak, if he becomes Egypt's next president through free and fair elections, then I can at least draw comfort from the fact that Egypt will be well on its road to democracy.

This column appeared in The Guardian Unlimited’s Comment is Free section on 19 March 2010. Read the related discussion.

Mohamed ElBaradei is no stranger to explosive – even nuclear – situations. As head of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA), he managed, using his legal and diplomatic expertise, to diffuse tensions over Iran's nuclear programme between the bomb-ho George Bush in Washington and the hot-headed radical President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad in Tehran. His astute diplomacy even earned him the Nobel peace prize in 2005.

Now, having given up the helm of the IAEA, he is being propelled forward by an unexpected and spontaneous wave of popular support that is breathing new life into Egypt's staid political landscape. In an unprecedented contrast to the typical, top-down politics of Egypt's ruling and mainstream opposition parties, ElBaradei has been persuaded, through grassroots activism, to come home and launch a campaign to clean up the country's radioactive political decay after nearly three decades of toxic rule by the Hosni Mubarak regime.

His return to Egypt has felt more like a state visit by a world leader than the coming home of a senior international diplomat. At the airport, he was treated to a hero's welcome, with jubilant supporters cheering him on, as if he had already been elected president. The crowd included ordinary Egyptians from across the country, as well as opposition figures, actors and novelists.

And if ElBaradei is allowed to run in the 2011 elections and manages to win – two very big 'ifs' indeed – he will be Egypt's first ever democratically elected leader, four presidents and almost 60 years after the 1952 revolution promised to bring democracy and freedom to Egyptians.

But for the time being, this accidental hero of Egypt's profound desire for change is being cautiously daring. His feet had hardly touched the ground when he was elevated by Egypt's diverse and broad-based anti-Mubarak movement to head a coalition for political change, the establishment of which he had reportedly wanted to put off for a few months. Its mission is to lobby the government to make the constitution more democratic and to promote social justice. ElBaradei has even indicated his willingness to enter the presidential race but only if he can run as an independent candidate and if free and fair elections can be guaranteed.

His potential candidacy is a sad condemnation of the Egyptian regime's unspoken policy of stifling meaningful opposition and engineering the political landscape so that Mubarak appears to be the only show in town. In addition, ElBaradei's meteoric rise to the upper echelons of the opposition movement is a reflection of the disarray of opposition parties and their failure to tap into popular discontent and mobilise the population to take effective action.

But how has a lawyer from a family of distinguished lawyers, who is not a career politician and who has worked outside Egypt for decades, become the face of reform in Egypt?

Part of the reason is his international standing, which has earned him a great deal of respect and admiration at home. More profoundly, it is a sign of the ageing Mubarak's failing grip on power, popular frustration at the rotten state of Egyptian politics, socio-economic inequality and widespread opposition to the idea of Gamal Mubarak inheriting the presidency (with a little behind-the-scenes help from his father). This desperation is reflected in the names of grassroots opposition efforts, such as Kifaya (Enough), the Egyptian Campaign against Inheritance of Power, and in the increasingly popular refrain: "Anything but Mubarak".

The decision to rally around ElBaradei is born of the realisation by activists and the opposition – with the notable exception of the Muslim Brotherhood – that they lacked a charismatic figure to represent people of all classes and political stripes. They are also gambling that ElBaradei's international standing will protect him from the wrath of the regime and spare him the fate of the previous challenger to Mubarak's hegemony, Ayman Nour.

So far, the regime has been doing its best to ignore the new pretender's return and downplay the extent of Baradei Fever. As one blogger put it: "I'm going to enjoy sitting back and watching how the Mubaraks deal with this wildcard."

But what are ElBaradei's chances? Many experts are doubtful that ElBaradei will be able run as an independent candidate and time is running out for him to attach himself to a political party. Moreover, joining a party would rob him of his unifying appeal. Amr Hashim Rabie of the Ahram Centre for Political and Strategic Studies believes that the best ElBaradei can hope for is to embarrass the regime at home and abroad and to galvanise popular opposition in 2011.

But perhaps it's too early to write off ElBaradei's chances. Several months ago, few would've suspected the Nobel laureate would be in the situation he's in today. Besides, we should never underestimate the power of the people, even in a semi-authoritarian regime.

And therein lies ElBaradei's most powerful weapon. He is a popular figure in Egypt – with over 122,000 members of a Facebook group supporting him in a country where internet penetration is still fairly low. And he understands the power of the people and the need to win their support and backing. A reflection of this savvy is that he wasted no time in meeting the young advocates who first floated the idea of his candidacy and even recorded a Facebook message to them. In recognition of Egypt's youth bulge and the power of the young to change and innovate, he has also invited young people to become active members of his coalition.

Of course, even if ElBaradei becomes the next president, Egypt will not be magically transformed into a prosperous democracy. That, as I pointed out in my vision for a democratic Egypt, will take generations of concerted effort. Encouragingly, many of his aspirations correspond with other reform-minded Egyptians' views – and he has indicated that he would not seek re-election if he failed to deliver results. I would go one step further and urge him only to seek a single term in office during which he can democratise the country's institutions and then hand over the baton to new generations of elected leaders.

This column appeared in The Guardian Unlimited’s Comment is Free section on 1 March 2010. Read the related discussion.

While in most countries, even the most democratic, becoming president or prime minister is a far-fetched dream for almost everyone, in Egypt, the prospect exists mostly in the realm of fantasy. In the six or so decades since the 1952 revolution, Egypt has had just four leaders, none of whom were elected – at least not in free and fair elections.

The current president, Hosni Mubarak, has held the top seat for the past three decades or so. This means that the majority of Egyptians, given the country's 'youth bulge', have known no other leader.

Next year, Mubarak's current term will end and, given his age and health, most Egyptians don't expect him to seek a sixth term. Egyptians dream of massive positive change in 2011, fear terrible instability and disruption, and some might even settle for 'business as usual' in the form of Mubarak's son, Gamal – at least for a few years.

Reform-minded Egyptians hope that Mubarak will step aside honourably and take the unprecedented step of calling free and fair elections to find a replacement. The most popular potential candidate at the moment is former IAEA chief and Nobel peace laureate Mohamed ElBaradei, despite the fact that he has lived and worked outside Egypt for decades.

ElBaradei's popularity is not only a sign of his international standing but also indicates the Egyptian regime's unofficial policy of engineering the political landscape so that Mubarak appears to be the only show in town. Personally, I fear that, rather than undergo a democratic rebirth, Egypt will either get a second Mubarak or a period of instability until another dictator takes the helm, though I doubt that Islamists are ready in the wings to take over. Nevertheless, I cannot help but hold out hope that 2011 will mark the birth of true Egyptian democracy.

This dream has got me contemplating, although I've never entertained political ambitions, what changes I would instigate if I were president. Since I stand about as much chance of being elected to that office as I have of being teleported to Mars, I don't have to limit myself to the realm of the possible and pragmatic and can let my imagination run loose. Surveying the troubled and dysfunctional typography of Egypt's society and economy, one is sadly spoilt for choice as to where to begin.

Upon taking office, and to avoid the temptations of power that have led so many initially well-meaning Egyptian leaders astray, I would probably begin with strengthening and shoring up Egypt's institutions, from the parliament to the judiciary, to ensure an effective separation and balance of powers. But top-down reforms can, at best, only play the role of a catalyst, and not bring about lasting change in themselves. In order to harness Egypt's massive grassroots potential, I would end the culture of fear and intimidation – at least, the state-sponsored side of this – that keeps Egyptians down.

I would strive to remove all the unconstitutional and undemocratic laws, such as those hindering freedom of expression and conscience, and dismantle Egypt's enormous police and state security apparatus.

In order to counteract and reverse growing religious fundamentalism and communal strife I would dig up the roots, rather than chop violently away at the outgrowth. A fish rots from the head down, so it is important to launch a serious campaign to root out corruption, first from the highest echelons of society.

More generally, it is essential to challenge the widespread practice of wasta – which permeates all levels of society and causes widespread cynicism and disenchantment – by strictly enforcing the rule of law, without making exceptions for the well-connected. This will be no mean feat, given how deeply ingrained the notion is, but if Egypt is to become a true meritocracy it is a crucial battle that must be won.

Then there's the economy, which is often erroneously viewed as somehow separate from society. Seeking political and social justice is meaningless if their economic counterpart continues to be denied – in fact, rather than more growth, Egypt needs more economic justice. Egypt's economy needs not only to continue to develop, but to do so sustainably and equitably.

In a country where economic inequality has grown to chronic proportions, the chasm between the have-alls and the have-nots needs desperately to be bridged. This should be done through a fair, effective and enforced progressive taxation system, as well as the reinstatement and further development of the country's dismantled social safety net and concerted government investment directed at stimulating Egypt's impoverished rural hinterland and neglected south.

This requires not just internal reform but also a revamping of the global economic system to make it fairer for developing countries. In addition, the strong arm with which the US-led west imposes its hegemony could foil such efforts if my "pinko" reforms are deemed somehow to be antagonist to US interests in the region.

In parallel with promoting economic justice, competitiveness also needs to be stimulated in order to generate the necessary wealth to boost everyone's wellbeing. This requires robust and enforceable regulations that level out the economic playing field and weed out the de facto monopolies and cartels that plague the Egyptian economy, as well as reforming the country's bloated and inefficient bureaucracy.

One reason why superstition reigns and people hark back to a mythical and glorious past is because they feel they lack a future. To give the coming generations a sense of purpose and to allow current generations to build a better future, I would slash military spending and abolish conscription, then use the released resources to invest heavily in education and scientific research.

Of course, I realise that my vision is but a dream untainted by political realities. Even a well-meaning, democratically elected president would have his or her work cut out simply steering Egypt away from the rocks towards which it is currently heading. The kind of transformation I dream of cannot be implemented by any one leader but will take generations of patient and careful change. But with the right political and civil leadership, Egypt can reinvent itself as a prosperous, modern and egalitarian society.

This column appeared in The Guardian Unlimited’s Comment is Free section on 17 January 2010. Read the related discussion.

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