politics

I say you want a revolution, Egypt

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By Osama Diab

Activists in Egypt should look to the hippy movement of the 1960s for a successful model in bringing about long-term social change.

Since the establishment of the Kifaya (Enough) movement in 2004, the Egyptian political scene has changed dramatically. If this continues, political resistance in Egypt is likely to become much more dynamic than it has been since the 1952 revolution, which overthrew the monarchy and established a republic.

Movements such as Kifaya, the April 6 youth movement and the national coalition for change headed by Mohamed Elbaradei, have all played their part in making the political life of Egypt less stagnant. They have managed to increase the margins of freedom and push for political reforms and will continue to do so, but they can't do it alone.

These groups all focus on short-term political gains. Their demands focus on short-term goals – constitutional change, free and fair elections, putting an end to emergency law – but they often ignore the most important element that could drive real change in the future: social change.

With a society that is reversing social progress and embracing conservative values, the drive for democracy and equality may find few supporters. Many in Egypt still do not recognise the equality of women and embrace discrimination against religious and ethnic minorities. Some discard democracy and human rights as a western invention and as part of an imperialist agenda. What Egypt needs, rather than a few groups preaching against the current regime and political system, is a durable social movement that decades from now can influence politicians and decision-makers.

Look, for example, at the social and political impact the hippy movement had in the US and, arguably, the entire world. Some argue that America wouldn't have had a black president if it wasn't for the social progress and momentum built in the 1960s.

The reason behind the hippies' success in changing the course of history is not only their anti-war sentiments, care for the environment, or their criticism of middle-class values and big corporate practices. These are values that were all preached by others long before the hippies.

No, what made the hippy movement attract millions of youth in the United States and globally was the subculture to carry their messages, rather than the value of the message itself. Their hip and exotic fashion, music and lifestyle is what appealed to tens of millions of young people confused by the Vietnam War and examining the values of their parents. The new fashions they created, and the focus on art and culture in their movement, made it easier for their message to spread.

Whether we agree or disagree with the values of the hippy movement, one can't deny that it had its own distinctive culture, creating one of the strongest social revolutions in history. Its emphasis on equality and environmental and pacifist values still influence the world today, and its subculture became part of American mainstream culture in the 1970s.

Here in Egypt, a country that puts so much emphasis on people's gender, social class and religion, a strong grassroots social movement and a subculture needs to emerge with a list of social, political and environmental demands. Ayman Massoud, the keyboardist of the Arabic rock band Massar Egbari ("Compulsory Direction"), explained to me what they mean by the name of the band. In his view, society draws a compulsory direction for us to take in order to fit society's idea of what is proper and successful.

"If someone wants to become a drummer, their parents will tell them to finish college first and then they can do whatever they want. But after they finish college, society will force them to find a job and practise their hobby on the side. After that, they will become too drained from their jobs and gradually forget about their old dream," says Massoud.

Egyptian dissidents don't have to – and should not – follow in the footsteps of others, but establish a culture that will make it easier to promote their beliefs. I wrote before in Egypt Today about how an underground music scene is emerging in Egypt focusing more on societal issues. This appeals to those who are tired of a pop scene dominated by attractive singers chiming love songs to western beats: music that avoids issues facing Egyptian youth today. This can be the root from which a new subculture can stem.

A movement like this would likely face huge social condemnation. It is inevitable it will be described as a threat to national security by the regime and a threat to society and its values by religious groups, but new ideas and social change are often faced with resistance.

Khaled Diab pointed out in Brian Whitaker's book, What's really wrong with the Middle East, that Egypt has a million Mubaraks – meaning that authoritarianism in Egypt exists not only in the political leadership, but also in families, schools and workplaces. As long as people themselves don't believe in the values of democracy and liberty, no number of political groups lobbying for change will succeed in pushing for reform.

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

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Queer times in Belgian politics

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By Khaled Diab

The product of an odd political marriage between left wing Belgian unionists and radical Flemish nationalists could be the world’s first openly gay male premier.

23 June 2010

Sometimes living in Belgium can be a surreal and somewhat comic-book experience. With the economy haemorrhaging jobs, inequalities widening and an empty treasury looted by the banks, how has the government been occupying itself for the past three years?

In contrast to their mostly moderate voters, Belgium's Flemish and Walloon parties have been engaged in a bitter and Byzantine war of words over language and an obscure electoral turf war – over whether or not to split the Brussels-Halle-Vilvoorde electoral district – which matters to few outside the political class.

Since the 2007 elections, one fragile coalition after another has risen and fallen over these petty issues, with the final nail in the coffin coming in April this year.

Of course, I am well aware that these are partly proxy disputes for deeper historical grievances between the country's two main communities, bolstered by the regional economic divide, which largely parallels the language fault lines and has prompted many in now-wealthy Flanders to seek to stem the flow of resources to now-poorer Wallonia.

Nevertheless, there is a touch of fiddling while Rome burns about this fixation on secondary issues, and I can't help but suspect these seemingly manufactured crises are being used to distract from government inaction on issues that really matter, such as creating jobs and steering a course out of the current economic crisis.

So, it was with a sense of foreboding that we headed to the polls last weekend. And, with Flanders's growing shift to the right and the disarray among Flemish progressives and the air of corruption and nepotism surrounding Walloon socialists, voting almost felt like a futile exercise.

The elections triggered what has been described as a tsunami in Belgian politics, with the young radical Flemish nationalist Bart De Wever (N-VA) and the dandy, bow tie-wearing veteran Walloon socialist Elio di Rupo (PS) emerging as their two regions' undisputed winners. It was satisfying to see the far-right Vlaams Belang suffer the greatest electoral loss in its history.

If nothing else, the aftermath of this shift in the political landscape should provide us with some interesting political theatre: De Wever, the anti-monarchist republican and separatist, has met with his arch-nemesis, the king, and has been chosen to explore coalition options.

More interestingly, De Wever and Di Rupo are set to forge a marriage of opposites between their two parties and, ironically, though they may be like chalk and cheese, the convincing mandate they each possess and their unquestioned capability as political movers, could actually break the impasse that has plagued Belgian politics since the previous election.

Both have been making conciliatory noises to the other side, with De Wever even breaking some of the taboos of Flemish politics by indicating his readiness to accept Di Rupo as Belgium's next prime minister – and the idea has caught on widely. This would make the veteran socialist the first Walloon premier since 1973.

And in a twist of the plot, it would also make him, as far as I'm aware, the world's first openly gay man (Iceland has a lesbian prime minister) to become head of government.

And the great thing is, his sexuality is largely a non-issue in the mainstream, and few Belgians appear fussed by the notion that a gay man is the most likely contender to become the leader of their country. Despite the country's rather staid and conservative image abroad, Belgium is sexually more tolerant than most of the rest of the world and became the second country to legalise gay marriages.

Sadly, there are disgruntled mumblings in far-right circles. After all, Di Rupo embodies everything they despise: not only is he gay, he is also Francophone and, to top it all off, from immigrant stock.

The Vlaams Belang party, whose core supporters are often homophobic, has not openly criticised his sexuality, despite its clearly stated belief that homosexuality has no place in the public sphere – perhaps out of fear of a public backlash or falling foul of discrimination laws.

Nevertheless, the VB's strong man, Filip Dewinter, tweeted in the runup to the elections that, if Di Rupo became prime minister he would go into self-imposed exile in Namibia. Given that he's a politician who claims to keep his promises, a Facebook group with around 40,000 members is calling on him to stay true to his word.

Although I wouldn't want to wish the anti-immigrant politician on the people of Namibia, Belgium would be a better place without him. I'm also looking forward to seeing how he handles himself as a migrant in Namibia – or perhaps even a political asylum seeker – and whether he follows his own advice to immigrants and assimilates fully into the local culture, learns Oshiwambo and leaves his Flemish identity behind him in Flanders.

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

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Death of a president

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By Khaled Diab

If exaggerated rumours of President Mubarak's death become fact, where will the end of his one-man show leave Egypt?

25 March 2010

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.

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Egypt’s online struggle for democracy

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By Osama Diab

In Egypt, political advocacy is being sparked online, on sites like Facebook, but there is significantly less room for movement in Egypt's real world than in its virtual world.

Tuesday 23 March 2010

In Egypt, many political movements have started, or have grown significantly, on Facebook, such as the April 6 Youth Movement and now the national campaign to support Mohamed ElBaradei, former chief of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) and Nobel Peace Prize winner, for the presidency of Egypt.

Facebook activism has done a lot for Egyptian dissidents and continues to worry the Egyptian regime. A group on Facebook supporting Mohamed ElBaradei managed to attract more than 130,000 members, and its membership is increasing at a fast rate.

Even though online activism can't achieve the change young Egyptians dream of on its own, it is an important first step for mobilisation in a political environment that doesn't allow for other forms of political rallying. However, it is unlikely that desktop activism can translate into something tangible unless it is backed by other forms of action.

Currently, there is little indication of this rally in the virtual world transferring to the real world. Not under this constitution. Therefore, lobbying for constitutional change seems like the right starting point.

Article 76 of the Egyptian constitution makes it technically possible but practically impossible for independent candidates to run for the top seat. It says that independent presidential candidates need the endorsement of at least 250 elected members of the parliament and municipal councils, of which at least 90 come from both branches of the parliament. These excessive requirements are all the more burdensome considering that the vast majority of Egypt's parliament is made up of ruling National Democratic Party (NDP) members.

This is why ElBaradei stresses the importance of constitutional reform. The former IAEA chief has been offered a position in many political parties that would enable him to become a party nominee. However, ElBaradei made it clear many times that he insists on running as an independent because his will to reform and amend the constitution outweighs his will to become president.

The question here is if ElBaradei, along with his supporters, would be able to exert enough pressure to amend the constitution so it would allow for independents to run for president in 2011. Unless the pressure is immense, the answer would most likely be no.

The reason is that constitutional amendments that have taken place in recent years were carefully tailored to make the next elections confined to the NDP candidate (probably Gamal Mubarak) and a few political figureheads from Egyptian parties who were closely monitored and given permission to operate by the Egyptian government.

It will be a great show: five or six candidates from the handful of small, unpopular and poor parties against Gamal Mubarak, with all the media, financial resources and state apparatuses on the latter's side to help him win in every legitimate and illegitimate way possible. With the deck stacked so greatly in his favour, a victory for the NDP candidate is highly likely.

This does not mean that ElBaradei's supporters should stop working on expressing their will to reform Egypt's political infrastructure and present ElBaradei as their candidate and symbol of change, but patience will be necessary.

ElBaradei supporters should expect that he will not be able to run in the coming presidential elections in 2011, but if support for ElBaradei's continues to grow, the momentum may be a force in the longer run. ElBaradei and his supporters emphasise the importance that change and the transition of power happen peacefully and smoothly, which means the process might take longer, but that it will also be more sustainable.

Abdelrahman el-Taliawy, an ElBaradei enthusiast says, "We are a very fortunate generation. We grew up to find ourselves connected, open to the world and, in a way, uncontrollable. We can feel ourselves holding the future with strings in our hands. But we are tied to our mystic past and grim present. If we are planning to do great things, then we will have to begin with revolutionising our own country."

el-Taliway goes on, "For us, ElBaradei represents that hope. Hope that we can really change the terrible conditions that we grew up to find ourselves part of. We're prepared to work with him on campaigns, talk to the people in the streets and publicly protest if we must. Now, we are united and we can feel the power of what we can do. They can never take that from us again."

This article was first published by WorldPress.org on 28 February 2010. Republished here with the author's permission. ©Osama Diab. All rights reserved.

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Fatwa fads

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By Khaled Diab

From fashion tips to adult breastfeeding – rulings by some clerics range from the eccentric to the downright bizarre.

23 September 2009

Baggy trousers are definitely 'in' this season. I have it on no lesser authority than Egypt's grand mufti, Ali Goma'a, that icon of clerical cool.

The esteemed Azharite's informal fashion fatwa – you could call it a fadwa – just happened to be all the rage this summer in the form of 'harem pants', as Rachel Shabi assures me.

But I doubt Goma'a is interested in developing a career as a style guru or a modish mufti or getting his mug on the cover of Elle magazine. Known as woman-friendly by the standards of the clergy, Goma'a was making it clear that he disapproved of what happened in neighbouring Sudan, where falling foul of the regime's 'fashion police' can have serious consequences, as the courageous Lubna Hussein and other unfortunate Sudanese women have discovered.

Luckily, in Egypt, Goma'a and the religious establishment's views are non-binding, although there are some worrying signs that the country is slowly developing its very own de facto 'morality police'. Nevertheless, in principle, Egyptians are free to dress pretty much as they please – even if hijabless women are an increasingly marginalised minority, as Gihan Abou Zeid points out in this article.

Despite the fact that Sudan and some Muslim countries have laws defining what a woman can wear, the Qur'an does not actually prescribe any particular form of dress for women, beyond asking them to be modest and cover their cleavage, and the "hijab" (originally a physical curtain or barrier) was only applied to Muhammad's wives.

Despite this vagueness, Egypt's Dar el-Ifta' (House of Fatwas), which is led by Goma'a and has the role of issuing opinions on matters of Islamic jurisprudence, followed the mufti's trouser comments by issuing an official statement reaffirming the hijab's unofficial position as the 'sixth pillar of Islam', which claimed that praying and fasting were not complete without the hijab.

Interestingly, although not quite as detailed as for women, the Qur'an also carries clear injunctions on male modesty. "It is men from the eighth century onward who interpreted the passage in the Qur'an which enjoins men and women to dress modestly to mean that women should be totally covered and segregated, neither seen nor heard," observed Afaf Lutfi al-Sayyid Marsot, a prominent Egyptian historian and feminist and the first Egyptian woman to obtain a degree from Oxford. How convenient. This kind of vindicates Egyptian culture minister Farouk Hosni's controversial claim that if women should wear the hijab, so should men.

So the issue is more a question of fatwa (religious opinion) than divine injunction. But then how reliable are fatwas as a guide to personal behaviour for the faithful? As Islam has no centralised "church" structure and no vested clergy, any scholar with an ijazah (the academic qualification at the root of the modern university system) is qualified to issue fatwas. In addition, qualified or not, any person with a cult following also issues fatwas.

This has led to some bizarre interpretations, especially with the ratings wars between 'satellite muftis' on TV. As a result, a whole line in "have you heard the latest fatwa" jokes has emerged. Egyptians, when they dismiss nonsensical, uninformed talk, say: "Batal tefti" ("Stop making fatwas").

Consider, for instance, the Little Britainesque fatwa – which caused mass public indignation – issued a couple of years ago by a cleric of al-Azhar, which purported to resolve the thorny issue of mixed gender workplaces by advising female workers to breastfeed their male colleagues, thereby becoming their "mother through breastfeeding" (umm fil reda'a).

Then, there are the fatwas on bathroom etiquette. Speaking of bowel movements, Goma'a, the Egyptian mufti, has not been immune to issuing surreal fatwas, such as the one declaring the holiness of the prophet's urine – and, no, he wasn't taking the proverbial.

Of course, these are extreme and extremely funny examples and most fatwas deal with mundane issues of worship and righteous behaviour, although few mainstream scholars are willing to stick their neck out and pronounce their opinion on more significant issues, such as politics, corruption, etc.

Nevertheless, sensible or not, the trouble with fatwas is that they discourage individuals from thinking for themselves, undermine the notion of individual choice, and deprive people of the moral responsibility for their own actions.

As everyone's doing it, my fatwa for today is: enough with fatwas!

This column appeared in The Guardian Unlimited’s Comment is Free section on 19 September 2009. Read the related discussion.

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The God veto

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By Khaled Diab

Belief in the sacredness of the holy land has long bedevilled the quest for peace. It’s time to challenge the ‘God veto’.

September 2008

The possibility that Tzipi Livni will become Israel’s next prime minister has re-ignited hopes of a breakthrough in the peace process, but chances are we are probably in for yet another false dawn.

Why is it that, since the 1990s, efforts to reach a two-state resolution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict have been going round and round in vicious circles, while the situation on the ground has been deteriorating constantly?

There are no shortage of thorny practical issues – from the question of Palestinian refugees to final borders – standing in the way of a deal, not to mention the power disparity between the two sides, but what role does rigid religious or pseudo-religious ideology play in perpetuating the struggle?

To get an idea, we need to rewind to the most hopeful period of the Oslo years. Finally at ease in his role as a dove, Yitzhak Rabin, the one-time hawk, soared on the wings of the biggest mass demonstration in Israeli history. “This rally must send a message to the Israeli public, to the Jews of the world, to the multitudes in the Arab lands and in the world at large,” he urged the 150,000-strong crowd that had turned out to hear him speak in Tel Aviv, “that the nation of Israel wants peace.”

The message was apparently all too clear to the hawks that had been circling around the then prime minister ever since he had decided to talk directly to his one-time archenemy Yasser Arafat and the PLO.

On that autumn night, 4 November 1995, Rabin paid for his “betrayal” with his life. The assassination sent shockwaves across the country, the region and the world, with that rare spectacle of Arabs expressing grief for a slain Israeli politician.

The killer was Yigal Amir, a university student who was a far-right religious Zionist. After his arrest, he told police that he had acted on “the orders of God”. Reflecting the distrust and hate elicited among the settler movement, Amir confessed to a later Commission of Inquiry: “I felt as if I was shooting a terrorist.”

Although religious and revisionist Zionists quickly distanced themselves from the murder, many Israelis are convinced that, even if Amir pulled the trigger, the extremists provided him with the ideological ammo. The settler movement had accused Rabin of planning to withdraw to “Auschwitz borders” and Orthodox rabbis had called on soldiers to disobey any orders to evacuate any part of the West Bank.

Rabin’s grieving widow, Leah, refused to shake hands with the Likud’s Binyamin Netanyahu, one of the staunchest and most vitriolic opponents of Rabin’s peace overtures, but shook Arafat’s. “I feel that we can find a common language with the Arabs more easily than we can with the Jewish extremists,” she said.

The Likud and other revisionist Zionists, the right-wing religious parties and the settler movement oppose the peace process because they advocate the annexation and settlement of the whole of Eretz Israel (Land of Israel), the vaguely defined Biblical territory which God “promised” to Abraham. “Settlement of the land is a clear expression of the unassailable right of the Jewish people to the Land of Israel,” reads the Likud party’s platform.

Even the ostensibly more pragmatic religious party Shas, which is vaguely in favour of making some concessions to the Palestinians, advocates the ‘Greater Israel’ enterprise. Despite his ‘fatwa’ that the sanctity of human lives is more important than that of the land, Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, Sha’s spiritual leader, instructed his men to leave Rabin’s government in protest against the Oslo accords and, again in July 2000, the rabbi withdrew Shas from Ehud Barak’s government to undermine the Camp David summit.

But it is not just extremist Israelis who believe they own a divine deed to the land, Palestinian Islamists, such as Hamas and Islamic Jihad possess the inverse view. According to Hamas’s 1988 charter, “Palestine has been an Islamic Waqf (endowment) throughout the generations and until the Day of Resurrection, no one can renounce it or part of it, or abandon it or part of it.”

Unsurprisingly then, Hamas – created during the first intifada as a reaction to the increasingly oppressive Israeli occupation and the increasing willingness of Palestinian secularists to reach an accommodation with Israel – was incensed by Oslo and started a suicide bombing campaign to undermine the process. This, coupled with the death toll and humiliation inflicted by the Israeli military on the Palestinian population, sought to chip away at public confidence in the peace process on both sides and to restore mutual distrust.

An Arabic proverb talks of people who kill and then lead the funeral procession. And that is what the extremists seem to be on the verge of doing with the two-state solution. On the Israeli side, Rabin’s murder marked the beginning of the end for the moderates and pragmatists. A shaken Shimon Peres was unable to regain momentum and shot himself in the foot with his Grapes of Wrath invasion of Lebanon, and the election of Binyamin Netanyahu sounded the final death knell for the Oslo process.

On the Palestinian side, the continued failure of the Palestinian Authority to deliver an independent state, as well as its endemic corruption, strengthened the hand of the extremists, propelling Hamas to a series of local election victories, crowned by their success in the 2006 parliamentary elections.

Israeli and Palestinian extremists achieved this by having the unshakable drive and conviction – one could say ‘delusion’ – to take advantage of the fractured political landscape, by preying on the fear and distrust of the enemy, and by hoodwinking the electorate. For instance, Hamas dropped the call for the destruction of Israel from its election manifesto prior to the 2006 election, while Netanyahu promised to respect the peace process and deliver “peace with security”.

What the extremists have been unable to answer is what to do with the elephant in the room: the millions from the ‘enemy camp’? How do they achieve their fantasies of territorial maximalism without having to oppress an entire people permanently, which is impossible?

Neither Jewish nor Palestinian extremists are likely to abandon their ultimate dreams easily, but there are signs that they can be pushed to become more practical and pragmatic. Ariel Sharon, the die-hard warhorse, broke away from the Likud he founded to take a somewhat more pragmatic path with his new Kadima party. The responsibilities of office have shown that Hamas can be more accommodating than its past suggests, with the Islamist party indicating its willingness to end its armed struggle with Israel in return for a Palestinian state on the pre-1967 borders. Unfortunately, the Israelis and international community have failed to engage with Hamas.

Despite the best efforts of the extremists, the Israeli and Palestinian public still crave peace, as poll after poll confirms, but agreeing a fair price for it is the challenge. The Oslo process had many faults: its fixation on Israel’s short-term security and its vagueness on the shape and form of a Palestinian state; accelerated settlement building, as well as the deferral of all the thorny issues to the final status talks. However, given the current hopeless mess, one cannot help feel a window of opportunity closed with Rabin’s assassination.

Had Rabin lived, the final status talks which were due to start on 4 May 1996 may have led somewhere, rather than the empty shell they proved to be. After all, six months earlier, with Rabin and Arafat’s blessing, a blueprint for a mutually acceptable deal was hammered out in secret talks under the auspices of Yossi Beilin and Mahmoud Abbas.

The two-state solution is on life-support and if it is to be saved, the passive majority needs to mobilise in opposition of those who continuously veto the quest for peace by invoking the wrath of God. As any just deity would now, it is the sanctity of people, not land, which matters.

This column appeared in The Guardian Unlimited’s Comment is Free section on 18 September 2008. Read the related discussion.

This is an archive piece that was migrated to this website from Diabolic Digest

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Egypt: Power has already been transferred

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By Osama Diab

What the speculation over political succession in Egypt overlooks is that Gamal Mubarak has effectively taken over the reins of power from his father already.

4 July 2009

The daily newspaper al-Shorouk recently reported that important figures in Egypt's ruling National Democratic Party (NDP) are meeting to decide the name of the party's 2011 presidential candidate. The article didn't cite any sources, and the NDP issued a flood of statements denying the occurrence of such a meeting. However, the rumour has caused the issue of succession in Egypt to resurface. It doesn't matter how hard the NDP denies the speculation and conjecture, it is going to have to name a candidate in the near future.

Although President Hosni Mubarak's son, Gamal, managed to make a quiet, backroom entry into the political scene, his emergence as the NDP's next candidate is clear. He gives major speeches, tours poor villages and has a say in all the economic, social and political issues. As Egypt has always been run as a one-man show, the elite usually reflect the ruler's ideology, identity and beliefs. Egypt's economic, political and social trends indicate that Gamal Mubarak already has a wide breadth of influence.

The rise of Gamal Mubarak started in 2002 when he was appointed head of the policy committee in the ruling NDP. Two years later, a new cabinet was appointed, headed by the Western-educated technocrat Dr Ahmed Nazif. Vital ministries were given to unfamiliar young neo-liberalist faces who spoke perfect English, were roughly Gamal Mubarak’s age and received some, if not all, of their education in the West. This cabal is currently known in Egypt as the 'businessmen's cabinet'.

Gamal Mubarak did both his undergraduate and graduate studies in business at the American University in Cairo. After graduation, he had a successful career as a banker in the Bank of America branches in Cairo and London, becoming one of its top executives. Upon his return to Egypt, he established the Future Generation Foundation, an NGO aiming to teach modern skills to college students and young graduates.

His joining of the NDP was accompanied by a huge makeover and re-branding of the ruling party with a "new thought" slogan. Egypt has also been aggressively moving towards a free market approach where the government's performance is measured by how much foreign direct investment enters the country and how well the stock exchange is performing.

Looking back over Egypt's timeline, one can trace how social and economic trends bent in this new direction, and how Gamal Mubarak found a place in the middle of the curve.

In the era of social division in pre-revolutionary royal Egypt, it was the aristocratic class that ruled the nation, and pashas were the cream of the crop. All the important ministers, political figures and even businessmen held the prestigious title of pasha.

In 1952, Egypt experienced a revolution, or better said, a military coup. Since it was carried out by the military, generals and colonels replaced pashas as the new power. This remained the case until the rise of Islamic extremists and the assassination of Egypt's former president Anwar Sadat. After the death of Sadat, Egypt declared a state of emergency, and emergency law has been applied ever since. This gave power to a new elite: the police. For almost three decades, leading up to the mid-1990's, emergency law turned Egypt into a police state, with the police holding tight to the enormous power they gained during their fight against Islamic extremism.

Now, a transitional period is in place and the trend is changing again. The youth who used to aspire to become military and then police officers are now fighting for a place in the many multinational corporations, banks and IT companies opening their doors every day in Egypt.

Studying economics or business administration in one of the new Western educational institutes has become the latest method of securing at least an upper-middle-class social position. Over the past six years, Canadian, German and British universities have opened their doors to students keen on making it into the corporate world. Forty-story, Shanghai-style office towers are now being built everywhere along the Nile. The dream for a growing number of young Egyptians is getting a job in a multinational bank headquartered in one of these towers. All of this is the influence of Gamal Mubarak's neo-liberal and Westernised personality.

Whether Gamal Mubarak will be the next president of Egypt is being hotly debated in Egypt. But a quick look at the timeline of Egypt's new trends, when viewed alongside Gamal Mubarak’s CV, indicates that Gamal Mubarak is already the current ruler of Egypt, despite not holding the official title of president just yet.

This article first appeared on WorldPress.org on 2 July 2009. Article republished with the author's permission. © Copyright Osama Diab.
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Secularism in a veil

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By Khaled Diab

An outward appearance of Islamism disguises the increasingly secular reality of some Arab and Muslim societies.

April 2009

In a series of recent articles, Brian Whitaker explored the role of Islam in Arab politics, the decline of secularism and what can be done to reinvigorate it. He describes how "the decline of Muslim secularism reflects the rise of Islamism and the more generalised religious revival that has swept across the Middle East since the 1960s".

I agree with the basic outline of this analysis, but would hazard to say that secularism is far from dead. It continues to make gains, albeit disguised for modesty's sake under an Islamic veil or pious beard.

In fact, there has been a trend over the past century which has seen many Muslim societies go from thinly veiling their traditional Islamic character in modern western cultural clothes, to dressing up their internalised modernism and increasingly secular reality in a reassuring and personalised Islamic garb.

The Secular party (later known as al-Wafd or Delegation) Whitaker refers to in his article, which was established in the interwar years to guide the struggle for Egyptian independence, provides an interesting case in point. He observes that today no one "would be foolhardy enough to set up a political party with such a name or platform".

Perhaps many Arab and Muslim secularists, on the back foot, do shy away from an overtly secular label nowadays. But, with the exception of the Muslim Brotherhood, pretty much all the main parties in Egypt – left, right and centrist – are secular in nature.

However, the original Wafd and Egypt's experiment with 'liberal democracy', viewed from nearly a century on, represent a deceptive mirage of modernity and secularism. The Wafd, and most of the other parties, were aristocratic and elitist in nature and had little connection with common people, while the Egyptian parliament was more like a 'salon democracy' because its power was massively curtailed by the British, on the one side, and the king, on the other.

In fact, most of the politicians of the time who enjoyed democratic or popular appeal were exiled by the British to places such as Malta or Ceylon, or were sidelined or removed through palace intrigues. Nevertheless, many Egyptians, inspired by the Europhile thinkers of the so-called Egyptian renaissance, continued to believe in the liberating possibilities of democracy and secularism. The failure of this toothless democratic experiment to empower the Egyptian people planted the seedsofa widespread cynicism: today, these abstractions are seen as little more than hollow words bandied about by imperial powers or self-serving political elites.

Despite these inauspicious beginnings, modern secularism was to see its star soar in the 1950s and 1960s before it began to fizzle out in the late 1970s. Egypt's revolutionary president Gamal Abdel Nasser did more than any other person both to give Arab secularism mass appeal and sow the seeds of its demise. His personal charisma, progressive ideas, unwavering belief in modernity and desire for social justice propelled socialism and secularism out of the wings of Egyptian and Arab politics and straight on to centre stage.

However, his and his successors' failure to hand over power to the people, their corruption, their failure to deliver on their promises and their ruthless persecution of the secular opposition empowered the Islamists and wonthem many converts, especially following the crushing defeat of 1967. In addition, despite being aggressively secular, the post-revolutionary Egyptian regime preferred to ignore or repress, rather than challenge, the ideas of the Islamic reactionary rearguard, which gave Islamists a powerful weapon.

Although the Muslim Brotherhood and other Islamist groups have, since the late 1970s, Islamised the political landscape, they have also been secularised by the die-hard socialists and liberals who refused to roll over. In addition, the secular ideas of the past few decades have put down deep roots in society that the Islamists are incapable of reversing.

The more progressive wing of the Brotherhood is gradually evolving into something akin to the Christian Democrat tradition in Europe: conservative and culturally Islamic, but increasingly pluralistic. A small sign of the changing times is that the Brotherhood not only takes the presence of women in the public arena more or less for granted, something it was once adamantly opposed to, it even fields some female candidates in parliamentary elections.

There are growing signs that the appeal of Islamism is on the wane, as Egyptians realise that the Muslim Brotherhood, beyond declaring that the Quran is their "constitution" and "Islam is the solution", have no real political programme of their own. In addition, the ugly reality of the modern theocracies and their failure to revive the 'golden age' of Islam are shattering many people's illusions about political Islam.

The struggle between 'secularism' and 'Islamism', which is almost as old as Islam itself, has been a long and bitter one, and has revolved around challenging the omnipotent temporal power of the caliph, sultan, king or president from the clashing vantage point of rationality and faith.

This conflict's modern vestige was personifed memorably by the Egyptian Nobel laureate Naguib Mahfouz in his Cairo trilogy as the standoff between two radical brothers, Ahmed (the communist) and Abdel-Moneim (the Muslim Brother), both of whom wind up in jail for opposing the tyranny of the status quo.

In my next piece, I will consider ways of advancing progressive secularism and overcoming the powerful "God veto" of religious conservatives.

This column appeared in The Guardian Unlimited’s Comment is Free section on 16 April 2009. Read the related discussion.

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