Omar Ashour: Disarming Egypt’s Militarized State

LONDON – Egypt’s crisis has been called the worst in its history. But in fact, it bears a striking resemblance to a previous episode, almost 60 years ago.

On February 28, 1954, almost a million protesters besieged Cairo’s Abdin Palace, then being used by Gamal Abdel Nasser and other leaders of the July 1952 coup. The protesters’ main demands were the restoration of Egypt’s fragile democratic institutions, the release of political prisoners, and the army’s return to its barracks.

The two-month crisis of 1954 was sparked by the removal of Egypt’s president, General Mohammed Naguib, by Nasser and his faction. As in 2013, the Muslim Brotherhood was at the center of events, mobilizing on the side of the deposed Naguib. But, following Nasser’s promises to hold elections in June 1954 and to hand over power to civilians, one of the Brotherhood’s leaders, Abd al-Qadr Audeh, dismissed the protesters.

Nasser’s promises were empty. By November, his faction was victorious. Naguib remained under house arrest, leftist workers were executed, and liberals were terrorized. Audeh was arrested, and, in January 1955, he and five Brotherhood leaders were executed. Egypt lost its basic freedoms and democratic institutions for the next 56 years, until February 11, 2011, when Hosni Mubarak was overthrown.

The similarities between February-March 1954 and June-July 2013 are numerous. In both crises, zero-sum behavior and rhetoric, mobilization and counter-mobilization by a divided public, and deception by (and manipulation of) the media were the order of the day. More worrying are the similarities in potential outcomes. In 1954, a junta that regarded itself as being above the state destroyed a weak democratic order; that outcome is highly probable now as well.

There are differences between the two episodes, though. In 1954, the conflict was wider than a power struggle between a president and a junta; it was also a battle over who would determine Egypt’s future and the relationship between civilian and military institutions.

Surprisingly, the army back then was split between officers who wanted a civilian-led democracy and others who wanted a military-led autocracy. In the first camp were Khaled Mohyiddin, Ahmad Shawky, Yusuf Siddiq, and others. Naguib played along. The second camp was led by Nasser and the majority of the junta represented in the Revolutionary Command Council.

The Brotherhood’s relationship with Egypt’s military is the result of a few critical events, including the 1954 demonstrations (and now the 2013 coup). Bloodshed, particularly Nasser’s execution of Brotherhood leaders, increased the Brothers’ bitterness toward the army. In June 1957, Nasser’s security forces allegedly opened fire on Brotherhood members in their prison cells, killing 21 and wounding hundreds.

A Brotherhood intellectual, Sayyid Qutb, started theorizing about a binary world, in which the forces of good (Party of God) would inevitably clash with the forces of evil (Party of Satan). His writings led directly to his execution in August 1966.

The consequences of the events of 2013, like the consequences of Naguib’s removal in 1954, may not be recognized quickly. But, once elected officials are removed by force, the outcomes are rarely favorable for democracy. In case after case – for example, Spain in 1936, Iran in 1953, Chile in 1973, Turkey in 1980, Sudan in 1989, and Algeria in 1992 – the results were tragic: military domination of politics with a civilian façade, outright military dictatorship, civil war, or persistent civil unrest.

Moreover, the Egyptian military in 2013 has gained more power than the 1954 junta: not just arms and control of state institutions, but also crowds and media cheering for more repression. And, unlike in 1954, the army is not divided (at least not yet).

But supporters of the deposed president, Mohamed Morsi, are not without their own sources of power. Their mobilization capacity is high. Last Friday, Cairo was paralyzed, despite an almost-complete lack of coverage by local media outlets.

And Ramadan – now underway – is mobilization-friendly. After sunset, there is a common program. Observant Muslims gather at sundown for iftar (breakfast), followed by evening prayers, tarawih (longer prayers, including a short sermon), social interaction, qiyyam (another late-night prayer), suhur (another collective meal), and then morning prayers. 

The last ten days of Ramadan are i‘tikaf (collective seclusion), during which worshippers gather and spend nights in mosques and open areas. Overall, the socio-religious culture of Ramadan can help keep the Brotherhood’s mobilization of its supporters alive for a while.

This brings us to the junta’s tactics to force demobilization. Since 2011, the army’s principal strategy has been to make promises and issue threats, which are enforced by shooting live rounds and/or tear gas. These tactics were used, for example, against Christian demonstrators in October 2011 (28 dead, 212 injured), non-Islamist youth in November 2011 (51 dead, more than 1,000 injured), and again in December 2011 (seven dead).

The July 2013 massacre was by far the worst (103 deaths so far and more than 1,000 injured). The army’s goal was not only to intimidate Morsi’s supporters, but also to disrupt their calculations. The junta wants its responses to remain unpredictable and to demonstrate its willingness to use extreme violence. But such tactics during Ramadan can be problematic, given the potential negative reaction of junior army officers and ordinary soldiers. Mutiny is a possibility.

Any resolution to the current crisis should aim to save the remnants of the only gains made so far in Egypt’s revolution: basic freedoms and democratic institutions. That will require ceasing violent repression, stopping propaganda and incitement in pro-junta media and at pro-Morsi protests, and trust-building measures.

A credible guarantor, possibly the Obama administration, needs to be heavily involved in this process, given the absence of trust among Egypt’s main political actors (indeed, every institution is politicized and willing to cheat if it can). Finally, a referendum on any final deal is essential.

In short, the credibility of ballots and democracy must be restored in Egypt (and throughout the region); bullets and violence must not be allowed to rule.

Omar Ashour, Senior Lecturer in Security Studies and Middle East Politics at the University of Exeter and a non-resident fellow at the Brookings Doha Center, is the author of The De-Radicalization of Jihadists: Transforming Armed Islamist Movements and From Good Cop to Bad Cop: The Challenge of Security Sector Reform in Egypt.

Omar Ashour: Egypt’s Democratic Dictator? / 埃及的民主獨裁者？

CAIRO – Mohamed Morsi, Egypt’s first-ever elected civilian president, recently granted himself sweeping temporary powers in order, he claims, to attain the objectives of the revolution that overthrew Hosni Mubarak’s dictatorship. But the decrees incited strong opposition from many of the revolutionary forces that helped to overthrow Mubarak (as well as from forces loyal to him), with protests erupting anew in Cairo’s Tahrir Square.

Morsi has thus been put in the odd position of having to defend his decision against the protesters while simultaneously making common cause with them. “I share your dream of a constitution for all Egyptians and with three separate powers: executive, legislative, and judicial,” he told his opponents. “Whoever wants Egyptians to lose this opportunity, I will stop him.” So, was Morsi’s “auto-coup” necessary to realize the revolution’s avowedly democratic goals?

The new Constitutional Declaration, the Revolution Protection Law, and the new presidential decrees have several aims:

·         To remove the public prosecutor, a Mubarak-era holdover who failed to convict dozens of that regime’s officials who had been charged with corruption and/or abuse of power;

·         To protect the remaining elected and indirectly elected institutions (all of which have an Islamist majority) from dissolution by Constitutional Court judges (mostly Mubarak-era holdovers);

·         To bring about retrials of Mubarak’s security generals;

·         To compensate and provide pensions for the victims of repression during and after the revolution.

While most Egyptians may support Morsi’s aims, a dramatic expansion of presidential power in order to attain them was, for many, a step too far.  Given Egypt’s extreme polarization and distrust between its Islamist and secular forces, Morsi should have anticipated the protests. Suspicion of the powerful, after all, has been one of the revolution’s animating factors. Another is a “zero-sum” attitude: any achievement by Morsi is perceived by his opponents as a loss.

The anti-Morsi forces are sharply divided ideologically and politically. Nobel laureate Mohamed ElBaradei, a liberal reformer, has little in common with Ahmed El-Zind, the head of the Judges Club and a Mubarak loyalist. But the anti-Morsi forces that backed the revolution regard the price of cleansing the judiciary as too high, arguing that the constitutional declaration will lead to dictatorship.

Indeed, the declaration protects presidential decrees from judicial review (although Morsi stipulated that it pertains only to “sovereignty” matters, and stressed its temporary nature). It also gives the president emergency-like power to fight vague threats, such as those “endangering the life of the nation.” Only if the new draft constitution is upheld in a popular referendum on December 15 will these provisions be annulled.

But the opposition factions have not been adhering to democratic principles, either. Mostly comprising electoral losers and remnants of Mubarak’s regime, some aim to topple Morsi, not just get him to backtrack on his decree. ElBaradei, for example, “expects” the army to do its national duty and intervene if “things get out of hand” – hardly a compelling democratic stance, given the army’s track record.

Morsi’s decrees have undoubtedly polarized Egyptian politics further. The worst-case scenario is street clashes between pro- and anti-Morsi hardliners. Historically, such clashes have often sparked civil war (for example, Spain in 1936 or Tajikistan in 1992) or brutal military coups (as in Indonesia in 1965 and Turkey in 1980).

For Morsi and his supporters, it was imperative to neutralize the Constitutional Court judges, whose ruling last June dissolved the first freely elected, post-revolution People’s Assembly (the parliament’s lower house). According to the Morsi camp, the politicized Court intended to dissolve the Consultative Council (the upper house) and the Constitutional Assembly, as some of its judges publicly hinted. Likewise, the sacked public prosecutor had failed to present any solid evidence against those of Mubarak’s security chiefs and officers who were accused of killing protestors, leading to acquittals for almost all of them.

As a president who was elected with only a 51.7% majority, Morsi needs to be sensitive to the demands of his supporters, mainly the Islamists and revolutionaries victimized by the security forces. But, for many revolutionaries, there were other ways to sack a tainted prosecutor and cleanse the judiciary. For example, a new law regulating the judiciary has been a demand of the revolution since its early weeks.

For Morsi, the dilemma was that the Constitutional Court could strike down the law, rendering the effort meaningless. He had already backed off twice: once in July 2012, when he abandoned his effort, under pressure from the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, to reinstate the elected parliament; and once when he tried to remove the public prosecutor by making him Egypt’s ambassador to the Holy See.

Morsi’s “Constitutional Declaration” was a decisive – though undemocratic, polarizing, and thus politically costly – step to break the impasse. And, while such decrees have led to dictatorships, not democracies, in other countries undergoing political transition, none had a politicized judicial entity that played the role of spoiler in the democratization process.

Indeed, almost two years after the revolution began, Egypt’s security forces have not been reformed in any meaningful way. Now, Morsi, in his effort to force out the prosecutor, will have to avoid opening another front with the Mubarak-era security generals, whom he will need to protect state institutions and maintain a minimum level of public security.

The security sector may, it seems, emerge from this crisis as the only winner. It will enforce the rule of law, but only for a price. That price will be reflected in the constitution, as well as in the unwritten rules of Egypt’s new politics. This constitutes a much more serious and lasting threat to Egypt’s democratization than do Morsi’s temporary decrees.

Omar Ashour, Director of Middle East Graduate Studies, Institute of Arab and Islamic Studies, University of Exeter, and Visiting Fellow at the Brookings Doha Center, is the author of The De-Radicalization of Jihadists: Transforming Armed Islamist Movements and From Good Cop to Bad Cop: The Challenge of Security Sector Reform in Egypt.

埃及的民主獨裁者？

開羅—埃及有史以來首位民選總統穆罕默德·穆爾西最近授權自己暫時掌握一切大權，他聲稱這樣是為了實現推翻穆巴拉克獨裁的革命的目標。但這一指令煽起了在推翻穆巴拉克過程中做出貢獻的諸多革命力量（包括忠於他的力量）的強烈反對，開羅解放廣場爆發新的游行示威。

於是，穆爾西陷入了奇怪的境地：他不得不捍衛自己受示威者反對的決定，與此同時，他又要與示威者志同道合。“我和你們一樣，夢想有一部屬於全體埃及人民的憲法和行政、立法、司法的三權分立。”他對反對者說，“不管是誰，若他希望埃及人失去這一機會，我將阻止他。”那麼，穆爾西的“自動政變”（auto-coup）是實現革命的公開目標——民主的必要條件嗎？

新憲法宣言、革命保護法（Revolution Protection Law）和新總統令的目標包括：

·         解除公訴人職務，他是穆巴拉克時代的遺留官員，沒能証明受腐敗和/或濫用權力指控的穆巴拉克政權官員的罪行。

·         保護尚存的選舉和間接選舉機構（均由伊斯蘭教徒佔多數）不被憲法法院法官（大多為穆巴拉克時代遺留官員）宣布解散。

·         對穆巴拉克的安全將官進行複審。

·         為革命期間和革命之後被壓迫的受害者提供補償和養老金。

大部分埃及人或許支持穆爾西的目標，但在很多人看來，為了達到這些目標而大幅擴張總統權力步子邁得太大了。埃及伊斯蘭教徒和世俗勢力之間嚴重兩極分化，彼此互不信任，穆爾西應該料到會造成示威。畢竟，懷疑權力一直是革命活力的來源之一。另一個因素是“零和”觀點：穆爾西的成就在反對者看來就是損失。

反穆爾西陣營的思想和政見是顯著分裂的。諾貝爾獎獲得者、自由派改革者巴拉迪與法官俱樂部（Judges Club）頭目、忠於穆巴拉克的辛德（Ahmed El-Zind）幾無相同之處。但支持革命的反穆爾西陣營認為清洗司法系統的代價太大，他們指出，憲法宣言將導致獨裁。

事實上，憲法宣言保護總統指令不受法官裁決影響（儘管穆爾西表示這只包括“主權”問題，而且隻是權宜之計）。憲法宣言還授予總統類似緊急情況的權力應對模糊的威脅，比如那些“威脅國家安全”的活動。只有在新憲法草案於12月15日的公投中獲得群眾支持，這些權力才會被取消。

但反對派也不符合民主原則。他們大部分是選舉中的失敗者和穆巴拉克政權遺老，其中一些人的目標是推翻穆爾西，而不僅僅是要他收回成命。比如，巴拉迪“希望”軍隊行使其國家責任，在“事態失控”時予以干預——給定埃及軍隊的歷史記錄，這絕非令人矚目的民主立場。

穆爾西的指令毫無疑問讓埃及政壇進一步兩極分化了。最壞的情況是支持和反對穆爾西的強硬分子發生街頭火並。從歷史上看，這類火並通常導致內戰（比如1936年的西班牙和1992年的塔吉克斯坦）或殘酷的軍事政變（比如1965年的印尼和1980年的土耳其）。

對穆爾西及其支持者來說，中立憲法法院法官是必要的，他們在去年6月的判決解散了革命後首個自由選舉選出的國民大會（議會下院）。據穆爾西陣營的說法，政治化的憲法法院傾向於解散咨詢委員會（議會上院）和制憲大會，這是一些法官公開暗示的。類似地，被解職的公訴官沒有拿出任何有力証據証明被指控殺戮示威者的穆巴拉克的安全主管和官員的罪行，導致他們幾乎全被無罪釋放了。

穆爾西僅以51.7%的多數優勢當選總統，他應該對支持者的需求頗為敏感，其支持者大部分是伊斯蘭教徒和受安全部隊迫害的革命者。但是，對許多革命者來說，解除腐化檢察官、清洗司法系統還有別的方式。比如，革命從最初幾周提出了建立新的監督司法部門的法律的要求。

對穆爾西來說，困難在於憲法法院可以宣布法律無效，讓其努力泡湯。他已經兩次遭遇阻擊：一次是2012年7月，他在武裝部隊最高委員會的壓力下放棄了恢復民選議會的努力﹔另一次是他試圖通過任命公訴官為埃及駐羅馬教廷大使解除其職務時。

穆爾西的“憲法宣言”是打破僵局的決定性步驟——儘管這一步不民主、可能造成兩極分化，從而政治代價沉重。此外，儘管這樣的指令在其他經歷政治過渡的國家導致了獨裁而不是民主，但沒有一個國家存在破壞民主化進程的政治化的司法實體。

事實上，在革命爆發幾近兩年後，埃及安全部隊仍沒有發生有意義的改革。如今，試圖逼退公訴官的穆爾西將不得不避免向穆巴拉克時代遺留安全將官二次開戰，他需要他們保護國家制度、維持最低水平的公共安全。

安全部門也許是此次危機中唯一的贏家。它將推行法治精神，但這樣做不是沒有代價的。這一帶價將反映在憲法中，也將反映在埃及新政局的不成文規定中。與穆爾西的暫時性指令相比，這是埃及民主化進程所面臨的更嚴峻、更長久的威脅。

Omar Ashour: Egypt’s Innocent Murderers

CAIRO – “Bashar should abandon power and retire safely in Egypt. The general-prosecutor is murder-friendly,” a friend, referring to Syrian President Bashar al-Assad, told me as we watched former Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak’s trial in the Police Academy’s criminal court. Although Mubarak and his interior (security) minister, Habib al-Adly, were handed life sentences at the conclusion of their trials, the generals who ran Egypt’s apparatus of repression as deputy interior ministers were acquitted.

Hasan Abd al-Rahman, head of the notorious, Stasi-like State Security Investigations (SSI); Ahmad Ramzi, head of the Central Security Forces (CSF); Adly Fayyid, the head of Public Security; Ismail al-Shaer, who led the Cairo Security Directorate (CSD); Osama Youssef, the head of the Giza Security Directorate; and Omar Faramawy, who oversaw of the 6th of October Security Directorate, were all cleared of any wrongdoing. Lawyers for Mubarak and al-Adly will appeal their life-sentences, and many Egyptians believe that they will receive lighter sentences.

The verdicts sent an unmistakable message, one with serious consequences for Egypt’s political transition. A spontaneous cry was heard from the lawyers and the families of victims when they were announced: “The people want to cleanse the judiciary.”

Indeed, many Egyptians – including senior judges – do not view the judiciary as an independent institution. “This is a major professional mistake. Those generals should have been handed life-sentences like Mubarak,” said Zakaria Abd al-Aziz, the former elected head of the Judges Club. “The killing went on for days, and they did not order anyone to stop it. The Ministry of Interior (MOI) is not the only place that should be cleansed. The judiciary needs that” as well.

The verdicts certainly reinforce a culture of impunity within the security services. The SSI and its departments were responsible for many human-rights violations, including mass-torture and extra-judicial killings, throughout Mubarak’s 30-year rule. When protestors stormed the SSI headquarters and other governorates in March 2011, torture rooms and equipment were found in every building.

Unlawful detentions, kidnappings, disappearances, systematic torture, rape, and inhuman prison conditions have all been documented since the 1980’s by human-rights organizations and a few Egyptian courts. Acquitting the heads of the SSI and the CSF (the 300,000-strong institution that acted as the “muscle” of Mubarak’s regime), after a revolution sparked by police brutality, led directly to renewed protests in Tahrir Square. “We either get the rights of the martyrs, or die like them,” chanted hundreds of thousands in Tahrir and other Egyptian squares. Sit-ins, reminiscent of the 18 days of January and February 2011 that ended Mubarak’s rule, have already started.

A third consequence of the verdicts concerns the empowerment of an anti-reform faction within the MOI. Based on my year-long research on Egyptian security-sector reform, this faction is already the most powerful.

Following the revolution, factional struggle within the MOI became public. “We have to save face,” said General Abd al-Latif Badiny, a deputy interior minister who was fired under al-Adly. “[M]any officers and commanders refused to torture detainees and were against corruption, but we need a revolutionary president to empower us and clean the ministry.”

Badiny was reappointed after the revolution, but then reprimanded in November 2011, following clashes between demonstrators and police that left more than 40 protesters dead. “He was advocating dialogue with protesters, whereas al-Adly’s men wanted a harsh crackdown. They got their way in the end,” says Major Ahmad Ragab, the spokesperson of the reformist General Coalition of Police Officers (GCPO), which seeks to establish an official police syndicate and reform the security services along apolitical, professional lines.

The verdicts will significantly affect two other processes: revolutionary forces’ capacity to mobilize, and thus to place pressure on the ruling Supreme Council of Armed Forces (SCAF), and the presidential elections. The objectives of those protesting the verdicts in Tahrir and other squares include: a judicial purge; a law that would ban Mubarak’s senior officials from holding political posts for ten years; new trials for al-Aldy’s generals; and removal of the general prosecutor (who was appointed by Mubarak).

There are also calls, still undeveloped, for greater unity ahead of the presidential run-off election on June 16-17. Such appeals range from demanding an immediate transfer of power to a coalition of revolutionary presidential candidates (although the mechanism is vague) to the formation of a united presidential front in the runoff, with Mohamed Morsi of the Muslim Brothers (MB) as President and left-leaning Nasserist Hamadin Sabahi and liberal-leaning moderate-Islamist Abdel Moneim Aboul Fotouh as Vice-Presidents. MPs have already called on the three figures to come to the parliament and negotiate a coalition.

The verdicts are likely to boost support in the runoff for Morsi, who split the Islamist vote with two other candidates in the election’s first round. Moreover, a significant share of the non-Islamist revolutionary vote will go to Morsi, owing to the absence of other revolutionary alternatives. The common saying in Tahrir is: “We’ve got differences with Morsi, but we’ve got blood with [Ahmed] Shafiq,” Mubarak’s last prime minister and Morsi’s opponent in the runoff. Pro-revolution, non-Islamist, and non-MB candidates received almost 9.7 million votes in the first round of the presidential election. The majority of these voters will probably now support Morsi, as opposed to staying home (the general drift before the verdicts).

The MB must still decide for inclusiveness if it wants to attract the support of Aboul Fotouh and Sabahi voters in the runoff against Shafiq. But, for now, Tahrir and other squares are once again uniting the pro-change forces, whether Islamist or not. The key challenge for Egyptian revolutionaries is to sustain that unity, establish a leadership coalition, translate their chants into concrete demands, and maintain the pressure during implementation. Egypt’s revolution continues.

Omar Ashour is Director of the Middle East Graduate Studies Program, Institute of Arab and Islamic Studies, University of Exeter (UK), and a visiting fellow, Brookings Doha Center. He is the author of The De-Radicalization of Jihadists: Transforming Armed Islamist Movements.

Omar Ashour: Who Will Win Egypt?

CAIRO – Everything about Egypt’s revolution has been unexpected, and the first-round results in the country’s first-ever competitive presidential election are no different. The rise of former President Hosni Mubarak’s last prime minister, General Ahmad Shafiq, who will enter the presidential runoff alongside the Muslim Brothers (MB) candidate Mohamed Morsi, has raised eyebrows across the political spectrum. So did the meteoric rise of the Nasserist candidate Hamdin Sabbahi to third place, and the fourth-place finish of Abdel Moneim Aboul Fotouh, who was backed by liberals and hardline Salafi Islamists alike.

Egypt’s voters overwhelmingly chose the revolution over the old regime, and shattered the myth that the push for change is an urban, middle-class, Cairo-based phenomenon: the eight revolutionary candidates received more than 16.4 million votes. But their failure to unite on a single platform directly benefited Shafiq, who unexpectedly won 5.9 million votes (assuming no election-rigging).

Shafiq’s success shocked many revolutionaries. “He is a murderer. His place is in jail, not on top of Egypt after the revolution,” said one activist. Indeed, Shafiq has been linked to multiple cases of corruption and repression, including the “battle of the camels” on February 2, 2011, when Mubarak’s henchmen attacked Tahrir Square, killing and wounding protesters.

The rise of Shafiq is explainable in some areas, but raised eyebrows in others. In Upper Egypt, “more than 60% of Copts voted for him,” a source close to the Coptic Orthodox Church said, and in Coptic-majority areas, the pro-Shafiq vote exceeded 95%, because he was widely perceived as a bulwark against Islamism.

Moreover, many state employees (around 5.1 million of them eligible to vote) and their families supported Shafiq, owing either to direct instructions from their bosses, or to the perceived threat of creeping MB influence on government bureaucracies. And Shafiq received financing and support from Mubarak’s National Democratic Party (NDP), as well as from business and security interests that benefited from the status quo.

But this was not enough to explain Morsi’s defeat in the MB’s traditional strongholds. In Sharqiya, a bastion of hardcore MB support with 3.5 million voters, Shafiq defeated Morsi by more than 90,000 votes. In Gharbiya governorate, another MB stronghold, he beat Morsi by more than 200,000 votes.

I compared the results with the MB’s performance in the parliamentary elections earlier this year, and found that the Brothers lost between 25% and 48% of their support in the Nile Delta (depending on the area), where 40% of Egyptians live. Assuming no foul play, Shafiq received around two million votes from four Delta governorates: Sharqiya, Gharbiya, Munufiya, and Daqahliyya.

Egypt’s Islamists – the strongest political force on the ground, and the most repressed under Mubarak – have serious stakes in this election. But, rather than uniting to improve their chances, their popular support was split among three candidates, two of whom – Morsi and Aboul Fotouh – placed among the four front-runners.

Salafi support for Aboul Fotouh, a moderate former MB leader, proved to be a double-edged sword, because it repelled many liberals and socialists who would have voted for him otherwise. Most revolutionaries who did not want an Islamist-dominated Egypt were alienated as well. Their votes went to Hamadi Sabbahi, from the left-leaning Nasserist camp, who surprised observers by winning 5.4 million votes.

If anything, the first-round results revealed the power of the non-Islamist revolutionary bloc, as well as Egyptians’ willingness to punish Islamists for their weak job performance in the parliament. Indeed, six out of ten Egyptians voted for Islamists in the parliamentary elections. That dropped to four in ten in the presidential election.

Morsi, who finished first, with six million votes, had the MB’s disciplined, dedicated, and experienced machine fully behind him. That meant a sophisticated election campaign that penetrated deeply into Egyptian society, urban and rural, and in which women played a key role. “This is where they beat the Salafis. Their women are experienced, outgoing, gutsy, and trained to be convincing and charismatic,” a Salafi activist who supported Aboul Fotouh told me. “Salafi women are shy, introverts. They can’t compete for votes with the MB ladies.”

The MB must now try to persuade the 10.7 million voters who supported Aboul Fotoh and Sabbahi to back Morsi in the runoff against Shafiq. The MB probably needs to reserve the vice presidency for a non-Islamist like Sabbahi. Likewise, Aboul Fotoh, or perhaps the Nobel laureate Mohamed ElBaradei, will need to be appointed as Prime Minister. Moreover, the MB will most likely have to offer some concessions to guarantee balanced representation of Islamists and non-Islamists in the assembly that the parliament is to choose to draft a new constitution.

Whoever wins Egypt’s presidency will face severe obstacles in challenging the status quo, owing to the dominance of the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF). The president’s mandate was outlined by a constitutional declaration in March 2011, but the SCAF has said that a more detailed one would be forthcoming after the election. That could mean weakening the president’s powers and reserving some domains for the army – at least until a new constitution is adopted.

What remains certain is that no democratic transition can be complete without elected representatives exercising meaningful control over the security services and the armed forces. That will be the Egyptian revolution’s ultimate test, and the most critical challenge for any president who does not embody a return to the past.

Omar Ashour is Director of the Middle East Graduate Studies Program, Institute of Arab and Islamic Studies, University of Exeter (UK), and a visiting fellow, Brookings Doha Center. He is the author of The De-Radicalization of Jihadists: Transforming Armed Islamist Movements.

Omar Ashour: What do Egypt’s Generals Want? / 埃及將軍想怎樣？

CAIRO – “Whatever the majority in the People’s Assembly, they are very welcome, because they won’t have the ability to impose anything that the people don’t want.” Thus declared General Mukhtar al-Mulla, a member of Egypt’s ruling Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF).

Al-Mulla’s message was that the Islamists’ victory in Egypt’s recent election gives them neither executive power nor control of the framing of a new constitution. But General Sami Anan, Chief of Staff and the SCAF’s deputy head, quickly countered that al-Mulla’s statement does not necessarily represent the official views of the Council.

So, one year after the revolution that overthrew Hosni Mubarak, who, exactly, will set Egypt’s political direction?

The electoral victory of the Muslim Brotherhood’s political wing and the Salafi parties, which together won more than 70% of the parliamentary seats, will give them strong influence over the transitional period and in drafting the constitution. But they are not alone. Aside from the Islamists, two other powerful actors will have their say: the “Tahrirists” and the generals.

Tahrir Square-based activism has not only brought about social and political change, but also has served as the ultimate tool of pro-democracy pressure on Egypt’s military rulers. Indeed, while the army, the most powerful of the three actors, still officially controls the country, there is little confidence in the generals’ commitment to democracy. “The SCAF are either anti-democratic….or some of their advisers told them that democracy is not in their best interest,” says Hazem Abd al-Azim, a nominee in the first post-Mubarak government.

If the generals do not want democracy, nor do they want direct military rule à la Augusto Pinochet. So, what do they want? Ideally, they would like to combine the Algerian army’s current power and the Turkish army’s legitimacy. This implies a parliament with limited powers, a weak presidency subordinate to the army, and constitutional prerogatives that legitimate the army’s intervention in politics.

The minimum that they insist on is reflected in statements by Generals al-Mulla, Mamdouh Shahim, Ismail Etman, and others. That would mean a veto in high politics, independence for the army’s budget and vast economic empire, legal immunity from prosecution on charges stemming from corruption or repression, and constitutional prerogatives to guarantee these arrangements.

The new parliament and constitutional assembly will have to lead the negotiations with the SCAF. But, given that any successful democratic transition must include meaningful civilian control over the armed forces and the security apparatus, the SCAF’s minimum demands could render the process meaningless.

The veto in high politics would include any issues that touch on national security or sensitive foreign policy, most importantly the relationship with Israel. With an Islamist majority in the parliament promising to “revise” the peace agreement with Israel, tensions over foreign policy are likely to rise.

The independent military-commercial empire, which benefits from preferential customs and exchange rates, no taxation, land-confiscation rights, and an army of almost-free laborers (conscripted soldiers), is another thorny issue. With the Egyptian economy suffering, elected politicians might seek to improve conditions by moving against the military’s civilian assets – namely, by revising the preferential rates and imposing a form of taxation.

Immunity from prosecution is no less salient. “The Field-Marshal should be in jail now,” screamed the elected leftist MP, Abu Ezz al-Hariri, on the second day of the new parliamentary session. When Mahmoud Ghozlan, the Muslim Brotherhood spokesperson, proposed immunity (known in Egypt as the “safe-exit” option), he faced a wave of harsh criticism.

Pressure from the United States has also influenced the SCAF’s decision-making. “The military establishment receives $1.3 billion from the US….They are very sensitive to US requests,” according to Saad Eddin Ibrahim, who lobbied the Obama administration to support the revolution in January 2011.

But most of the SCAF’s pro-democracy decisions have come as a result of massive pressure from Tahrir Square. This includes the removal of Mubarak, his trial (and that of other regime figures), and bringing forward the presidential election from 2013 to June 2012.

Two other factors are equally, if not more, influential: the status quo inherited from the Mubarak era and the army’s internal cohesion. With few exceptions, the SCAF’s members benefited significantly from Mubarak’s regime. They will attempt to preserve as much of it as possible.

“The sight of officers in uniform protesting in Tahrir Square and speaking on Al Jazeera really worries the Field Marshal,” a former officer told me. And one way to maintain internal cohesion is to create “demons” – a lesson learned from the “dirty wars” in Algeria in the 1990’s and Argentina in the 1970’s and 1980’s.

In particular, Coptic protesters are an easy target against which to rally soldiers and officers. Last October, amid an unnecessary escalation of sectarian violence, state-owned television featured a hospitalized Egyptian soldier screaming, “The Copts killed my colleague!” The systematic demonization of the Tahririst groups, and the violent escalation that followed in November and December, served the same purpose.

Despite everything, democratic Egypt is not a romantic fantasy. A year ago, Saad al-Ketatni, the Muslim Brotherhood leader, would never have dreamed of being Speaker of Parliament. The same applies to the leftists and liberals who now hold around 20% of the parliament’s seats.

If 2011 witnessed the miracle of Mubarak’s removal, a brave parliament’s institutional assertiveness, coupled with non-institutional Tahririst pressure, could force the generals to accept a transfer of power to civilian rule (with some reserved domains for the army establishment) in 2012. What is certain is that this year will not witness a return to the conditions of 2010. Egypt may become stuck in democratization’s slow lane, but there will be no U-turn. The hundreds of thousands who marched to Tahrir Square on the revolution’s anniversary will guarantee that.

Omar Ashour is a visiting scholar at the Brookings Doha Center and Director of Middle East Graduate Studies at the Institute of Arab and Islamic Studies, University of Exeter. He is the author of The De-Radicalization of Jihadists: Transforming Armed Islamist Movements.

 

Omar Ashour: 埃及將軍想怎樣？

開羅——“無論哪個黨派在議會獲得大多數議席，他們都是受人歡迎的，原因是他們無法實施任何人民不願意實施的措施。”埃及最高軍事委員會 (SCAF)委員穆赫塔爾•阿爾•穆拉 (Mukhtar al-Mulla) 將軍這樣聲言。

阿爾•穆拉的意思是，雖然伊斯蘭主義者在埃及最近的選舉中獲勝，但是他們既不能獲得行政權也無法控制新憲法的形成。但是參謀長兼最高軍事委員會副委員長薩米•阿南 (Sami Anan) 將軍立即反駁說，阿爾•穆拉的觀點並不代表該委員會的官方觀點。

革命推翻胡斯尼•穆巴拉克 (Hosni Mubarak) 一年後，到底誰訂定埃及的政治方向？

穆斯林兄弟會 (Muslim Brotherhood) 的政治支派和薩拉菲 (Salafi) 各派在選舉中獲勝，總共獲得了議會中百分之七十的席位，這將在過渡階段給予他們強大的影響力並制定憲法。但是並不是只有他們。除了伊斯蘭主義者，還有兩個強大有發言權的參與者：解放廣場的抗議者 (Tahrirists) 和將軍們。

以解放廣場為基地的活動不僅引發了社會和政治變革，最後還迫使埃及軍方領導人支持民主。實際上，三個參與者中，軍隊最強大，還正式控制著這個國家，不過人們不相信將軍們會致力於民主。“最高軍事委員會不是反對民主……就是一些顧問告訴他們，民主並不符合他們利益。”穆巴拉克政府倒台後首次選舉的候選人哈齊姆•阿卜德•阿爾•阿齊姆 (Hazem Abd al-Azim) 說。

就算將官們不想要民主，他們也不想利用軍隊直接統治國家。那麼他們想怎樣？在理想的情況下，他們想融合阿爾及利亞軍隊當前的權力和土耳其軍隊的合法地位。這意味著有限權力的議會，權力薄弱的總統, 受制於於軍隊◦ 軍隊享有憲法的特權，能夠干預政事。

阿爾•穆拉、馬姆杜•沙希姆和伊斯梅爾•伊特曼等將軍的聲明反映了他們堅持的底線，即在重要政治問題上享有否決權、軍隊預算和大量的財政收入獨立、享有因貪污或鎮壓而遭指控的豁免權、享有憲法特權以確保這些權益。

新國會和憲法議會必須與最高軍事委員會談判。但是鑒於任何成功的民主轉型必須包括文官確切控制軍隊和國家安全機構，最高軍事委員會的最低要求可能會使這個過程失去意義。

在重要問題上享有否決權意味著在涉及國家安全或敏感外交政策（最重要的是與以色列的關係）等問題時都享有否決權。佔大多數國會議席的伊斯蘭主義者一定“重新修訂”與以色列的和平協議，很可能出現外交政策的緊張關係。

獨立的軍事商業帝國又是一個棘手的難題。它從優惠的關稅和匯率、免稅、土地沒收權和大批幾乎免費的勞動力（徵召士兵）中受益匪淺。由於埃及的經濟萎靡不振，當選的政客可能會試圖改善經濟狀況, 會向軍隊的民用資產開刀——如修訂優惠稅率並採用新收稅項。

免受指控特權備受觸目。當選的左翼議員阿布•伊茲•阿爾•哈裡利在新國會選舉的第二天喊道：“陸軍元帥現在應該關在監獄了。”當穆斯林兄弟會的發言人馬哈茂德•戈茲朗提議豁免權（在埃及稱為“安全脫身”的選擇）時，他受到了嚴厲的批評。

美國的壓力也影響了最高軍事委員會的決策。“埃及軍方接受了美國13億美元的資助……他們很重視美國的要求。”薩德•埃丁•易卜拉欣說。2011年1月，他曾游說奧巴馬政府支持革命。

但是最高軍事委員會大多數支持民主的決定都是解放廣場抗議者大力施壓的結果。其中包括推翻穆巴拉克政府、審訊穆巴拉克（以及其他穆巴拉克政府的官員）和將總統大選從2013年提前到2012年6月。

另外兩個因素至少具有相同的影響力：從穆巴拉克時代下來的現狀和軍隊內部的凝聚力。幾乎沒有什麼特例，最高軍事委員會的委員都從穆巴拉克政府中受益匪淺。他們將竭盡全力保住利益。

“在解放廣場抗議並在阿拉伯半島新聞電視台講話的軍人叫陸軍統帥擔憂，”一位前官員對我說。保持內部凝聚力的一種方法是打造“惡魔”——這是從二十世紀九十年代阿爾及利亞和二十世紀七八十年代阿根廷的“骯臟戰爭”中學來的。

科普特的抗議者特別容易成為士兵和軍官整治的目標。去年十月，在不必要的宗派暴力升級過程中，國有電視特別報道一位住院的埃及士兵喊道，“科普特人殺了我的同事！”有系統地妖魔化解放廣場上的抗議者以及十一月和十二月的暴力升級都是為了達到相同的目的。

儘管如此，埃及實現民主並不是天方夜譚。一年前，穆斯林兄弟會的領袖薩德•阿爾•卡塔尼根本想不到自己會當上國會的發言人。左翼人士和自由人士也是，他們現在竟然佔到了國會大約百分之二十的席位。

如果2011年見証了穆巴拉克下台的奇跡，2012年將見証勇敢的國會機制力量和解放廣場抗議者壓力的非機制力量迫使將軍們接受向文官統治轉變（軍方在一些領域將保有權力）。埃及可能在民主的道上慢車前行，但是不會倒退。成千上萬的人到解放廣場游行紀念革命一周年將保証這種趨勢。

Omar Ashour 是布魯金斯多哈研究中心的訪問學者，艾塞克斯大學阿拉伯和伊斯蘭研究中心中東研究生院院長，著有《去聖戰分子的極端思想：轉變暴力的伊斯蘭運動》。

Omar Ashour:Egypt’s Salafi Challenge

CAIRO – “We want democracy, but one constrained by God’s laws. Ruling without God’s laws is infidelity,” Yasser Burhami, the second leading figure in the Salafi Call Society (SCS) and its most charismatic leader, recently said. The unexpected rise of the Salafis in Egypt’s parliamentary election has fueled concern that the most populous Sunni Arab country could be on its way to becoming a fundamentalist theocracy akin to Shia Iran.

Known for its social ultra-conservatism, literal and strict interpretation of Islam, and potential exclusion of the ideological and religious “other,” the Salafi “Coalition for Egypt,” otherwise known as the Islamic Coalition, won a total of 34 seats in the parliament elected to draft Egypt’s new constitution. This is in addition to the 78 seats won by the Democratic Coalition, led by the Muslim Brotherhood’s Freedom and Justice Party (FJP).

Of the 168 contested seats, Islamists have secured 112 or 66.6%. Although it is still early to determine the final outcome, which will be determined on January 11, the coming rounds are unlikely to veer from the early voting patterns. Governorates considered to be traditional strongholds of Islamists will be voting in the second round (like al-Sharqiya and Suez) and in the third round (like Matruh and Qalyubiyah).

Before the November elections, many people doubted that the decentralized, leaderless, politically inexperienced, and socially controversial Salafi groups could garner strong support in the elections. But they enter the elections with several parties, the most organized and politically savvy of them being al-Nour (The Light), which has formed a coalition with al-Asala (Originality) Party and the Islamic Group’s Construction and Development Party.
Al-Nour is one of two Egyptian Salafi groups that were organized and centralized decades ago, the other being the relatively apolitical Ansar al-Sunnah (Supporters of the Sunnah). The roots of the organization go back to 1977, when the Muslim Brothers dominated the Islamic Group at Alexandria University. In reaction, students with Salafi convictions, mainly studying in the faculty of medicine, formed the “Salafi School,” arguing against the Muslim Brotherhood’s ideology and domination of Islamist activism.

By mid-1985, the Salafi School was calling itself the “Salafi Call Society.” It had its own educational institution, the al-Furqan Institute, a magazine entitled Sawt al-Da‘wa (the Voice of the Call), and a complex social-services network. The Zakat Committee (Islamic tithe) was in charge of funding and administering orphanages, support of widows, relief work, and free health clinics and other community facilities.

To manage its operations in Alexandria and elsewhere, the SCS leadership established an executive committee, a governorates committee, a youth committee, a social committee, and a general assembly. All of this was accomplished under the hazardous conditions of Mubarak’s rule, which banned the movement’s leaders from leaving Alexandria without travel permits from the State Security Investigations Service. The regime regularly closed their institute, banned their publications, and arrested their leaders.

This oppression perhaps explains the SCS leadership’s initial reaction to last January’s revolution. “They would have bombed us from the air if they saw our beards in Tahrir!” said one of the SCS leaders. Indeed, the SCS leadership did not officially back the revolution until the final days before Mubarak’s fall, although their mid-ranks and grassroots activists did join the protests. This includes Emad Abdel Ghafour, the head of al-Nour Party. 

What clearly distinguishes the SCS and its political arm, al-Nour, from other Salafis is their long organizational and administrative experience and their charismatic leaders. Muhammad Nour, the spokesperson of al-Nour in Cairo, tells me about an additional factor to explain the party’s rise: “The liberal media is focused on us. They did our media campaigning for free,” he smiles. “When they try their best to smear us, and then people see what we do on the ground, the people understand that there is something wrong with the media...not with us.”

Today, of course, the big fear – not only in the West, but also in other parts of the Arab world – is that the Muslim Brotherhood (the big winners in the elections) and the Salafis will join forces after the voting is finally completed in January. But this is unlikely. As Nabil Na‘im, a co-founder of al-Jihad Organization and a leading figure in the transition towards non-violent activism, put it to me recently, “What coalition? I just mediated a ceasefire in Fayyoum between the Muslim Brotherhood and the Salafis.”

In fact, the composition of the government is likely to be shaped more by ongoing grassroots mobilization and ideological rifts among the Islamist parties, the actions – and inaction – of the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF), and the behavior of the liberal parties.
Right now, the Muslim Brotherhood seems determined, above all, to limit the military’s role in shaping the constitution. It also wants to empower the parliament and monitor the security services more effectively. The Salafis, on the other hand, are focused on pushing a socially conservative agenda to satisfy their electoral base.

If the SCAF continues tacitly to support one side, as it has been doing, it will likely fuel greater Islamist-secular polarization, rather than deepening the rift between the Muslim Brotherhood and the Salafis; the prospect of an FJP-Nour coalition would then grow.

It will be critical for liberals to work on limiting polarization by focusing on trust-building measures with the Muslim Brothers, rather than solely depending on the SCAF to empower them. One young revolutionary put it eloquently: “Most activists are happy to fight the Muslim Brotherhood and Salafis in electoral and street politics if they infringe on citizenship rights. But this is our fight, not the army’s.”

Omar Ashour, Director of the Middle East Graduate Studies Program at the Institute of Arab and Islamic Studies, University of Exeter (UK), is the author of The De-Radicalization of Jihadists: Transforming Armed Islamist Movements. He is currently a visiting fellow at the Brookings Doha Center.