Typically, a new president of Egypt is sworn in in front of the People’s Assembly (PA). The PA, however, was dissolved by the High Constitutional Court in the run-up to the presidential election. So on June 30 2012, Mohamed Morsi, the first democratically elected president, took his oath in front of the High Constitutional Court. It would have seemed more fitting, perhaps, if he’d been sworn in front of the now dissolved Assembly since half of its representatives were from Morsi’s—and the Muslim Brotherhood’s—Freedom and Justice Party (FJP). (The extremist Salafi El Nour Party had 20%.) But the ceremony incarnated the paradoxes of Egyptian Democracy today: the president-elect of a party is sworn in by the Court that dissolved the parliament where his party had a majority. Morsi also had to immediately quit the FJP, since Egypt’s president cannot have any political affiliation.
Egypt today still has no constitution, and the Constituent Assembly in charge of drafting a new one, might well be deemed unconstitutional in September by the High Constitutional Court. Even if that Assembly manages to do its work, the Court and the army can veto any article in the projected constitution. One ticklish question facing Egyptians now is: what does the High Constitutional Court base its rulings on if the country has no constitution? This catch-22 situation becomes even more problematic when one considers that, in a couple of months, the new constitution—if we manage to get there—might overturn Morsi by mandating a new presidential election. Welcome to Egyptian democracy 101!
Current law does not allow for a parliamentary election before establishing a constitution, or electing a president before the parliament is assembled. Yet in the last year and a half, Egypt has had added a crucial constitutional amendment without having a parliament or a president, then elected a parliament without having a constitution (or a president), and now just swore in a president without having a constitution or a parliament. That president, in his inaugural address, invoked the contract between himself and the people. That contract, however, hasn’t been drafted and no one, including the president, knows his job description.
Morsi’s address was imbued with a tinge of (false) humility and marked by worrisome religious rhetoric. For now, though, the revolutionaries of Tahrir are satisfied since the old regime minion, Ahmed Shafiq, lost. Shafiq partisans (called feloul—“bad remnants” of the Mubarak regime) are anxious, fearing for their former prerogatives. “Better the devil you know” seemed to be the rationale behind the Shafiq vote. And yet the Muslim Brotherhood’s Morsi was certainly not the revolutionaries’ ideal candidate. At this point, who knows who is.
Names are flying around, parties are being founded, and the new government is not yet in place. Already everyone, from politicos to average citizens, has complaints. So much so that Morsi instigated an official office where citizens’ may talk back to authority—the “Bureau of Appeals”!
I’m sure Morsi will to try be responsive. But the balance he must strike will require tact and Herculean strength. I doubt he possesses either. Egyptians need guidance as they exercise their rights, acting on their new-found sense of freedom in a society that’s suddenly bereft of structure. Many are feeling overly empowered. A wave of moral vigilantism has swept the streets. One band of religious police comprised of three bearded men in white galabeyyas (committed to “the promotion of virtue and the prevention of vice”) apparently killed a young man for walking in the street with his fiancée. A practice they defined as forbidden, haram. And this is not an isolated incident. Wannabe religious police are becoming more visible, assuming that since the new president is from the Muslim Brotherhood, the country will now adopt a much stricter interpretation of Islamic law, the sharia. Morsi, of course, denounced extremist violence, and Islamists in Suez—the city where the killing occurred—denied any connection to the vigilantes. Meanwhile, the FJP wants Egypt to bid for the 2028 Olympic Games. Do they realize the Olympics means women athletes wearing very short shorts, and swimsuits? I wonder what slogan the new Egypt will use to sell itself to the world?
Morsi, playing the “average man” card, tries to engage the people as one of them. He aims to reassure them that no power (including his own) will silence their voices again. Yet he pays tribute to the army, underscoring that it will maintain its central role in Egypt’s public affairs. The various political factions want their voices heard in the new government. Morsi is bombarded with contradictory, if not absolutely antithetical demands. Salafis with their extremist El Nour Party are vehemently opposed to a female or Coptic VP (personally, I’m hoping Morsi resists the Salafis by appointing a female Coptic VP!); Christians are concerned about prospects of a constitution with an Islamists bias; Leftists, including figures like Hamdeen Sabbahi and Mohamed ElBaradei, are trying get their act together—building alliances and devising better strategies to gain more power. There are many heated debates about the role of sharia in the new constitution. Islamists tend to focus on the claims of piety, the role of women, and the place of Coptic Christians rather than on reviving the economy. Their narrow faith-based politics seems out of time. Yet compromises will have to be made by all parties, though right now no one seems willing to budge. On this score, the experience of the revolutionaries of Tahrir might not amount to a usable past. Compromise was not part of their agenda. They had to stick to their unwavering demands then. But contexts change and the nature of heroism mutates too.
So far, though, it is the revolution that’s been compromised. The political arena is overflowing with nincompoop ideologues who make Sarah Palin look like a paragon of democratic virtue. Rumors are rife and conspiracy theories are blooming like flowers of evil. No one knows for sure if Morsi actually won and not Shafiq. From one day to the next, any law or institution can be declared unconstitutional. And the president’s own term may only last 6-9 months, after which the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces may well remove him. There would be another presidential election and, by then, Egypt might have a new constitution.
Egypt is still on the edge. And it will have to find its way around some terrifying quicksand in the near future. Morsi might be the first non-military president of Egypt, but that doesn’t mean the army will not puppeteer his presidency. He is not the revolutionaries’ number-one choice, but does he even care? Friday demonstrations have become a weekly fixture in everyday life, and they aren’t likely to abate in the coming months. Maybe now the Muslim Brotherhood is out of the Square (since it won the election), the real revolutionaries will be able to stand up and make a case for democratic principles, not “winning is everything.” As the administrator on the Facebook page “We are all Khaled Said”[1] recently wrote: “principles do not know ideologies.” The revolution was informed by principles of diversity and individual acts of conscience; ordinary politics, however, are often driven by ideologies that sacrifice tolerance and individuality to “correct” party lines. A discourse of religious entitlement is creating a visible schism within the polity. Mubarak may be gone but I still blame him for this break in the fabric of Egyptian society. Consider that the Muslim Brotherhood is an organization that was repressed for more than sixty years. It will not exactly be a surprise if, upon finally gaining power, it fails to provide a model of tolerant, democratic governance. History has surely taught us not to be beamish. Religious fascism is no better for a nation than a military junta. A political sphere defined by a “sacred” discourse leaves no room for a loyal opposition once it’s deemed unholy.
Consensus in Egypt is hard to imagine now. Isn’t that democracy, though? The majority rules and the minority must gracefully comply? Sure, but a democracy is only as strong as its weakest minority. If the majority uses violence to enforce the majority’s will, the democracy may lose its moral legitimacy. What we must hope for now is that the memory of Tahrir lives on, upholding a sense of dignity and freedom that somehow immunizes the Egyptian people against the tendency to return (eternally) to tactics of violence and intimidation. That hope, though, may become a lie if religious zealots end up paving the way to hell in my country even as the liberals are struggling to organize themselves.
The crucial question is whether the country will define itself as a secular state or a religious one. It will be fascinating to see where Morsi comes down on this issue.[2] Will he be content to cultivate the revolutionaries’ demands for “bread, freedom and social justice.” Or will he be lured into seeking to consolidate the Muslim Brotherhood’s power as an Islamist entity.
Egypt has our first democratically elected president, thanks to the revolution. That revolution was celebrated for bowing down to no leader. It was a broad-scale movement that privileged social justice and the whole body of the people over narrow party politics. But its strengths have come to seem like limitations, because “vision without action is a daydream, and action without vision is a nightmare.” It’s past time to back up revolutionary visions with practical political actions. Or that dream may turn into a nightmare. The “next” Egypt could resemble Iran or Turkey. It may end up a theocracy, a democracy or a dictatorship. Ultimately though, the army is the foundational player in the political sphere: it will probably have the final say.
Nope, the Egyptian revolution is definitely not over.
Notes
1 Said’s death in 2010 was one the main catalysts of the unrest that led to the overthrow of Mubarak.
2 As of Sunday, July 8, Morsi reinstated the dissolved People’s Assembly, sparking a heated debate on the legitimacy of a new president whose first decision is to break the law. Will the military police forcefully reverse the president’s decision? Or is the new president above the law?