The Marina syndrome

By Salama Ahmed Salama

This admirable man's name was not released because he is a member of the People's Assembly, and one of the country's wealthiest businessmen, who wields great influence within the National Democratic Party and outside it. Like so many others, he believed that he, his household and his hangers-on were above the law.

Without delving into the details of the incident, which is currently being investigated by the relevant authorities, the scarcity of facts in this case was alarming to ordinary citizens, for whom laws and police reports are not specifically tailored, and whose needs to not dictate standards of justice.

Outrageous as the incident may be, it is by no means an exceptional event; it is only one in a series witnessed this summer in the resort patronised by the new elite. A member of the Shura Council suffered a brain haemorrhage after being assaulted by a group of young men. This and other incidents that have taken place in the same summer resort reveal the contempt the children of rich and powerful parents display for the law. Their arrogance is matched only by the attitude of Israeli settlers in occupied Arab land. The progeny of the new ruling class does not know or care what effect its behaviour has on the security and stability of our society.

Although the "Marina syndrome" is hardly a new disease, it has acquired the magnitude of a summer epidemic. Its symptoms flared up last year, when the son of a high official, abusing his father's power, gained control of a large area of the resort, where he organised a huge and extremely noisy festival. The police and administration turned a deaf ear to vacationers' complaints -- their normal reaction when complaints are brought against a powerful person's son. Matters have deteriorated so far that a 14-year-old can drive a jeep on the pavement, or race his jet-ski into water reserved for swimmers.

The rich and powerful isolate themselves in their palaces and on private beaches. Their privacy and their lives are highly guarded from any invasion or harm: armed guards oversee the sanctity of these shrines. Nobody knows how these people came to wield such extensive power, or how they amassed all this wealth; nor can anyone designate the constituency they represent, elections being what we know them to be -- pre-planned, and over before they began.

This atmosphere is no doubt a hothouse for a generation of spoiled brats with no respect for others, whose misbehaviour and crimes are shielded by their parents' immunity. One reporter saw young men and women, the children of the Marina elite, engaged in a fist-fight over seats at one of the events organised at the resort's auditorium.

The Marina syndrome is a true reflection of the crisis threatening Egyptian society, the threat to its stability, to the integrity of its youth and to its faith in the future. The gap between the young people who worry about obtaining flats at affordable prices and those young people in Marina, Agami and other such exclusive resorts -- who have all they need, yet always want more: more money, more "fun", more cars and clothes and jewellery -- is indeed vast. We need to address this syndrome before it gets out of hand.