Issue No. 596
Opinion
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25 - 31 July 2002 Issue No. 596 Opinion |
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 | Recommend this page | ||
The seeds of pluralism
The demarcating lines between pluralism and authoritarianism in Egypt's pre- and post-revolutionary history are more blurred than they may seem on the surface, writes Charles Tripp*
Looking back at revolutions can bring on nostalgia for what was lost and disappointment at what was achieved. In Egypt, both sentiments are in evidence and they have their pitfalls. Nevertheless, a backward glance at the 50 years since the Free Officers seized power does force one to think about long-term trends, about features of the past which help to illuminate the present. One such feature is the suppressed plurality of Egyptian society -- a product of Egypt's complex history, its demography and its lively intellectual life, but poorly reflected in the country's political life since 1952.
Prior to 1952 it found expression in various ways. British military occupation had set up an authoritarian framework, creating a centre of gravity around which much of political life revolved. However, it had also set counter-forces in motion, providing the incentive and the imaginative political space for resistance, subversion and transformation.
The political establishment -- even those whom the British thought of as their allies -- resented British domination and built followings within society. In doing so, they responded to and encouraged trends, associations and movements emerging from an increasingly urban, articulate and politically diverse Egyptian public. In political life, this found expression in a lively, sometimes violent competition between different personalities, factions and parties, seeking power for their different visions of Egypt's future. Whilst all could agree that the future should be under the banner of "Egypt for the Egyptians" -- the slogan itself was soon answered by the question "Egypt for which Egyptians?" It was here that the heart of the struggle lay.
Saad Zaghloul and Mustafa El-Nahhas had no doubts in their minds that they and the Wafd represented Egypt, not simply in negotiations with Great Britain, but in all spheres of political life. They suggested that there could be no truly national politics outside the Wafd. It was this attitude, claiming an identity between a particular political party and all of Egypt, that alienated many of the more independent minded politicians under the monarchy. Ismail Sidqi, Mohamed Mahmoud, Ali Mahir, Mahmoud El-Nuqrashi all broke with the Wafd over this claim. When the opportunity presented itself, they too tried to implement their own exclusive visions of Egypt, as intolerant of alternatives as the Wafdists were.
Beyond, if sometimes allied to, these competing factions within the Egyptian establishment under the monarchy, were those who voiced the aspirations of yet other kinds of Egyptians. Some focused on economic injustice and reform; others on questions of religion and identity; yet others on the framework in which politics was to be possible. Thus, for the Muslim Brotherhood, Egypt was to be the Egypt of the believers; for the Marxist and socialist groups, Egypt was to be reclaimed by the peasantry and the emerging working class; for Young Egypt it was to be an Egypt where the main economic resources of the country would no longer be in the hands of foreigners; for the Arab nationalists, Egypt's wealth, manpower and cultural prowess was to be for all the Arabs; for the feminists, Egypt was to be for the women of Egypt as much as for the men; for the liberal democrats, Egypt would only belong to all Egyptians when they participated actively in its governance.
None of these groupings bred conformity. On the contrary, their histories are as much histories of internal splits and disagreements as they are histories of their conflicts with others. Any glance at the extraordinary variety and liveliness of the Egyptian press and publishing industry of the first half of the century will confirm the view of a rich and diverse political and cultural life. Looking back on it now, much may be disagreeable or incomprehensible, but there is little doubt that it represented a plurality of voices seeking to share -- with greater or lesser tolerance of others -- in the invention of Egypt. The Free Officers themselves, with their wildly different views about where they wanted Egypt to go, were a product of this era. However, some amongst them had as exclusive and uncompromising a view of what was best for the Egyptians as any of the authoritarian figures of the monarchy.
The struggles amongst them, culminating in the emergence of Gamal Abdel-Nasser confirmed this trend. With the suppression of political parties, the abolition of any representative framework for politics, the imposition of strict censorship and the prosecution of dissent, Egyptian politics became a monotone. Nasser coopted those whom he could not silence, with the result that his regime took on the appearance of some of the diverse and contradictory trends visible prior to 1952. Egyptian nationalism, Arab nationalism, free enterprise, state planning and economic regulation, welfare and land reform, secularism and Islamic socialism were all part of the phenomenon of "Nasserism" at various times. All however, were subservient to the direction of Nasser as head of state. It was this centralising and ubiquitous regime of power which became the hallmark of the revolution.
When Anwar El-Sadat became president, he tried to implement his own vision of Egypt's future, using the massive power invested in him as president of the republic. Although he toyed with the idea, he could not let go that power and trust the Egyptians sufficiently to delegate it to them. His cautious "opening" in politics was soon reversed when he discovered that all the themes of pre-1952 Egypt (save only the questions of Great Britain and the Sudan) resurfaced -- as did many of the personalities who had spoken for them in that era. In some respects, it was as if the revolution had never taken place. At the end of his rule (and of his life) Sadat was confronted not simply by ghosts from the past, but by real social and political movements which had meaning for hundreds of thousands of contemporary Egyptians, but which had largely been suppressed for thirty years. The liveliness, but also the turbulence of Egyptian political society was making itself felt once more.
For Hosni Mubarak, taking over the reins of power at a time of crisis, the challenge was how to retain the stability of the regime when it was apparent that Egypt's political society was stirring. Initially, despite the State of Emergency, some effort was made to open up the political space for the expression of difference. Censorship was lighter, associational life was more tolerated, dissent was permitted in certain areas. Mubarak did not suffer from Sadat's pre-revolutionary demons and it appeared that Egyptian politics might at last reflect the richness and diversity of Egyptian social and intellectual life. However, prolonged tenure of power created in the regime a belief in its right to power, as authoritarian in instinct as anything that had preceded it. This in turn encouraged resistance, sometimes violent, which was met by the violence of the state.
The justified fear amongst those who had hoped for a genuine opening in Egypt's politics was that the space for a truly varied political life was being restricted once again.
In 1952 military officers seized power and set the course for a regime which recognised the rights of all Egyptians, regardless of status, to health, education and welfare, if necessary through the redistribution of wealth. The problems of implementing this are all too obvious, but compared to what had happened before, this was indeed revolutionary. Fifty years later, Egyptians are still awaiting a similar revolution in their political and civil rights.
Recognition that diversity is not weakness, that plurality is not disunity and that dissent is not treason would be a fitting political accolade to the resilience and dignity of the Egyptian people and a true achievement for a government which saw itself as the guardian of Egypt's revolutionary legacy.
* The writer is head of the Political Studies Department in the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London.
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