Between
democrat and autocrat
September 2005
“We are here
today to say that real democracy and freedom of speech are not grants from the
ruling party to the people,’’ proclaimed Egyptian actor Khaled el-Sawy at an
August rally of the Writers and Artists for Change Movement. “These are our
given rights and we need no permission to practice them.”
If only this were true.
In fact, the Egypt’s ruling National Democratic Party (NDP) continues to
control every stage of the political process. There is no doubt that Hosni
Mubarak will win a fifth presidential term in September’s election. As
opposition parties and various civil society groups have never tired of
pointing out, the entire process was skewed from the start: the constitutional
amendment that enabled the election stacked the deck against effective
opposition participation, the state-owned press lavished attention on Mubarak
while virtually ignoring other candidates, and the balloting once again lacked
real transparency or credibility.
The election is a symbol of a larger political reality. From setting
economic policy to pushing through legislation and wrestling the judiciary,
with an illusion of public consultation and participation, Hosni Mubarak and
his closest allies in the NDP will determine who gets which rights when.
The pessimism of much of the opposition, westerners in Arabist blogs and
European and US op-eds, and ordinary Egyptians is understandable. Caution and
semi-authoritarianism have led the NDP to disappoint many times before. But
while a healthy scepticism is certainly called for, knee-jerk pessimism misses
the point. Mubarak sees a democratic future for Egypt, and he has the power to
see this through.
It is important to keep in mind that the NDP cannot maintain its
hegemony forever. To a certain extent, the decay in its power is inevitable.
Experiences with democratisation in southern and eastern Europe and Latin
America, and more recently in Georgia and the Ukraine, show that political
reform quickly becomes irreversible, with the momentum passing from a unified
authoritarian party to a new discourse between citizens hungry for more and
quicker change and regime reactionaries anxious to snatch back control.
The possible scenarios are narrowed to revolution, conservative/military
coup, and a more or less stable transition to some form of democracy. The
generally technocratic regime ‘progressives’ that start the process do not have
the option of halting it without losing out themselves, since to do so would be
both to yield to the argument of the reactionaries and to risk civil unrest
from below. Instead, their goal becomes that of controlling the pace of the
transition and defining its terms so as to preserve a place for their
leadership.
Of course, it is difficult to box Egypt tidily into this model, mainly because Mubarak does not face nearly this many challengers. There is, for example, little risk of revolution. The only conceivable vanguard, the Muslim Brotherhood, is far more diffident than many western observers fear, and has long hedged its bets through tacit agreements with the government. The deep penetration of the security services and a certain lack of foreign support would seem to suggest that a Kirgiz or Lebanese-style ‘popular revolution’ is unlikely to form, or at least to succeed. The kind of slow, surface changes already made to the political process have the potential to co-opt enough public opinion to take the wind out of any attempt to stir an uprising.
The current regime has plenty of reactionaries, but to a large extent,
they have already been neutralized. The appearance of the Ahmed Nazif
government has been seen as primarily of economic significance, but at the same
time it was a pre-emptive political coup. Along with Atef Obeid, old guard
leaders former Information Minister Safwat al-Sharif and Minister for People’s
Assembly Affairs Kamal al-Shazli were sidelined.
The NDP’s influential policy committee was stacked with ‘reformists’
like the president’s son Gamal Mubarak and Investment Minister Mahmoud
Mohieddin, while the cabinet was filled with free market technocrats. Having
earned Mubarak’s confidence with relatively competent economic policies that
bought the regime additional credibility with western governments, the NDP of
the ‘new thinking’ has marginalised the old school party hacks. Without serious
allies in the military, the old guard poses no threat to the regime from the
right.
For all their noise, civil opposition groups like Kifaya!
(Enough!) and its numerous, sometimes subsidiary, sometimes independent,
groupings are merely a distraction. They get a lot of western press because they
talk in terms (and languages) we understand, but they lack cohesion and
domestic credibility. Indignant press releases, photogenic demonstrations, and
the adoration of bloggers pose no long-term threat to anyone.
That leaves the big one. But there are definite signs that Mubarak is
working, very cautiously, to dislodge the armed forces from politics. The Egyptian military exerts its (non-military) influence
in five principal ways. In increasing strategic importance, these are: 1) its
privileged access to public bank loans, and the intricate networks this has
engendered between officers and the more kleptocratic members of the private
sector, 2) its use of state-owned companies as private fiefs and pastures for
retired officers; 3) its direct control of many provincial governments (and
local security forces) through appointed governorships of active and retired
officers; 4) the involvement of current and former officers in large strategic
business deals, especially in the energy sector; and, 5) its establishment of
more or less clear red lines in national politics.
The first of these is already under threat by even the
slow pace of reforms put into motion by Nazif’s government and the second will
suffer from longer-term banking and financial reforms and good governance
drives. Especially if rumours that Mubarak will appoint intelligence chief Omar
Sulayman as his vice president are true, then he will be targeting the
remaining poles of military influence. Allowing freer local elections would be
one way to get rid of the military stranglehold on provincial authority while
releasing popular pressure and without posing a serious threat to the regime.
The remaining powers will persist until really major economic and political reforms
are successfully implemented. But even without these reforms, Egypt’s
political-military relationship would look little different from Turkey’s.
Furthermore, the drive to lessen military influence is
unlikely to meet stiff resistance from the armed forces as an institution. The
military is first and foremost the embodiment of Egyptian nationalism. From its
perspective, the coup that would ultimately be required to address its loss of
more direct power would be against the national interest. And, in any case,
delays to democratization would have little effect on the economic reforms that
will limit the military’s day-to-day influence. The one caveat is that the
reform process cannot allow the Muslim Brotherhood to come to power. Of course,
this view of a transition jibes very closely to the cautious version espoused
by Mubarak himself.
But what is his view, exactly? If Mubarak is in a uniquely powerful
position to define the terms of a democratic transition, does he actually intend
to go through with it? This is where pessimism most seriously fails to produce
a useful analysis. Mubarak genuinely wants democracy for Egypt. All it takes is
a look at his motivations to see that this vision is genuine.
First of all, there is little doubt that Hosni Mubarak is a nationalist.
His semi-authoritarianism is not simply a means to enrich himself and his
family and friends, but is also a result of a strong feeling that he is the
only person that can bring Egypt into the future. Of course, that does not mean
that his goals are the right ones, or that he will even make the right
decisions to achieve those goals, but it does mean that he takes his legacy
seriously.
Second, Mubarak realises that he is operating in a changed world. In his
cautious attitude towards change, he will find American support. To an extent,
he will reap the benefit of nearly three decades of Egyptian co-operation with
US foreign policy in the region. But Mubarak knows that US foreign policy has
been fundamentally transformed, and US support will have its limits.
There is a genuine realisation in the US government that, to paraphrase
Condoleeza Rice’s speech in Cairo this summer, its policy of allowing stability
to trump democracy no longer holds any hope of bringing either. As in all major
foreign policy shifts, implementation will take time, but patience with Mubarak
will last just as long as it takes the US to accommodate itself to the
ramifications of its new convictions.
Third, this changed environment is not limited to Egypt’s relations with
the US. Popular opinion has long been a red line in economic policy, but this
is now starting to be true of politics, as well. Egypt is not Syria; Mubarak
cannot simply pass on the presidency to his son Gamal without risking the kind
of unrest that a halfway subtle leader could avoid. While Mubarak faces little
serious domestic threat to the regime, this could change quickly during a
period of crisis or transition. With expectations raised and external actors also
focused on popular opinion, political stasis is now more likely to threaten
stability than to maintain it.
Finally, and most importantly, Mubarak sees a controlled transition to a
controlled democracy as the most certain way to maintain the influence of his
family, his political and business allies, his party, and his vision of
development. His lack of opposition within and without the NDP will not last
forever, nor will he. Over the last few years, he has developed an NDP whose
policies reflect a very specific, technocratic view of economic and social
development that has much international support and actually seems to be making
some gains.
In fact, the ‘reformist’ wing of the NDP is beginning to resemble an
actual political party. Add in its patronage networks, which it is not about to
abandon in a fit of liberalism, and you have the ingredients for success in a
cautious democracy. On the other hand, if the NDP does not continue its move
towards political partydom, it can expect to be discredited even more than it
already is, and faces the very real threat of dissolving into clannish factions
following Mubarak’s death.
Crucially, the election, however flawed, has greatly increased the risk
of any attempt to maintain the status quo. It has brought up far too many
questions about Egypt’s future. Mubarak himself delivered a long list of
campaign pledges that, whatever the chance of their transparent implementation,
at least acknowledge the entirety of the democratic deficit.
In short, Mubarak and his allies continue to determine when to grant
civil rights, but once given, they cannot take them back without risking
disaster. Democracy – a dirty democracy, an unstable democracy, perhaps a
Turkish, Russian, or even a Bolivian democracy – is the inevitable result. The
only question is how long it will take.
*Carlos
Tiny is a London-based American Middle East analyst.
ã2005 K. Diab. Unless otherwise stated, all the content on this website
is the copyright of Khaled Diab.
ã2005 K. Diab. Unless otherwise stated, all the content on this website
is the copyright of Khaled Diab.