Rethinking the Islamists

Khalil al-Anani

Al-Ahram Weekly, 15 - 21 March 2012

The more the Arab Spring propels Islamists into power, the more we need to rethink the Islamist question in a manner that transcends the styles of praise or ridicule that typified our approach and shaped our awareness for several decades. Although it is premature to issue a final assessment or judgement on the state of Islamists in the post- "Arab Spring" phase, there are a number of issues that can serve as the starting point for an objective discussion on this subject. Perhaps the first is the shift from opposition to power and the inevitable changes and transformations this caused in the language and structure of the Islamists' ideological discourse and in their organisational and political structures and interactions. Here, we will limit our discussion to the dimension of discourse, with regard to which we have four preliminary observations on the nature of the changes, some of which have already taken effect and others of which are still in the process of synthesis and formation.

- The shift from the "absolutism" to the "relativism" (or from the sacred to the profane): Many Arab Islamists, including the neo- Salafis, have begun to move away from the discourse of "historical imperative" (or ultimate salvation, as Fahmi Gadaan put it) to the discourse of compromise and accommodation on the basis of existing circumstances, which are inherently relative and fluctuating in nature. For example, when the Nour Party entered the electoral fray, it did not promise -- in the manner of jihadist Salafis -- paradise as a reward for voting for its candidates, but rather it pledged to improve the economy, reform education and healthcare, and fight corruption. Perhaps some Nour Party candidates resorted to "religious rhetoric" in their campaigns. Nevertheless, this tendency cannot be said to have applied across the board; nor did it attain the "absolutist" level. But the most salient indication of this trend is offered by the Freedom and Justice Party of the Muslim Brotherhood, which did not use its famous slogan "Islam is the solution", but instead a purely secular one (or mundane, in the language of modernists): "We bring the good to Egypt."

The "relativisation" of the Islamists' religious discourse is not just the product of the revolutionary condition in the Arab region, which has reshaped the mass consciousness. It is also due to their awareness of the nature of the political game, which demands the application of purely rational calculations that have little to do with ideology or absolutist ideological demagogy.

Another sign of this relativism is the Islamists' shift from the language of religion to the language of politics in the public sphere. Therefore, it is not strange to find that such terms as consensus, dialogue, interests, participation and elections have taken the place of halal/haram, the calling, the religious community, religious duty, etc. Some observers maintain that the word substitutions are not indicative of a real change in the Islamists' ideological positions. Even so, that such modernist terms are being repeated so frequently in Islamist and particularly the Salafist spheres is a milestone.

Yet another sign of the new relativity has to do with outward appearance, or what we might term "formal/ritual relativity". As symbolic as this facet is, it nevertheless reflects how the Islamists think of themselves and their appearance before others. Many Islamists -- Salafis, in particular -- no longer restrict themselves to traditional dress (the galabiya and head covering) in public space. In fact, most Islamist MPs sport jackets and ties in parliament, and not a few of them wear elegant three-piece suits for their appearances on satellite television talk shows.

- The shift of the centre of Islamist activity from the mosque to parliament: The practical and symbolic manifestations this shift should not be underestimated. What it tells us is that the conflict no longer anchors around religious legitimacy and who has the right to speak in the name of Islam, but rather around political legitimacy and who represent people in the public sphere. Although many may not have picked up on this transformation, it is highly significant in many respects.

First, there is a vast difference between the "mosque sphere" and "parliamentary sphere". The former is an ideological mobilisation space par excellence, and it is not subject to any rules for oversight or review, whereas the second is a primarily "regulatory" space and it is subject to rules for accountability, oversight and -- sometimes -- penalisation. Therefore, what can be said from the pulpit may not be appropriate beneath the parliamentary dome. This is not a question of double standards, but rather a question of function, which is why the Muslim Brotherhood speaker of parliament, Saad Al-Katatni, could silence and reproach the Salafi MP Mamdouh Ismail for raising adhan in parliament.

Second, if "the text" is the source of power and influence in the mosque, political, legislative and regulatory action is the source of power in parliament. It is the difference between the world of "words and slogans" and the world of "deeds and results". Lastly, the audience of the mosque is not the same as that of parliament. The first looks to the authority of the sheikh or preacher; the second looks to the authority of the constitution and the law. In parliament, the promotion of the interests of the public, rather than piety, forms the basis of the criteria of right and wrong for this MP or that. Perhaps the best example of this that we have had recently occurred when the Nour Party dismissed one of its members and parliamentary MPs for lying and attempting to deceive the public, thereby damaging his image and that of the party.

- The end of the "religious" hierarchisation of public space and its impact on social and cultural authority: To a large extent, this phenomenon is related to the decline in the adulation of the leader in Arab societies, due to the end of the monopoly over knowledge and information. The Arab Spring helped to spread this phenomenon as never before by putting paid to the myth that certain persons or their ideas were above criticism. We have seen this in effect in those societies that experienced popular uprisings and revolutions and in which many religious and political leaders fell due to their ideological positions on the revolution or because their ideas were long beyond their sell-by-date. Perhaps this is one of the fruits of the Arab revolutions that lifted many taboos and dispelled the aura of sanctity that had kept numerous persons and issues above discussion.

While such a process can be frightening at times, because it rocks all the certitudes that had become such deeply ingrained compass points in society, it has had beneficial effects. Foremost among them is that it made it possible to redraw the social and political balances between public persons on the basis of knowledge, ability and skill, rather than blind trust, obedience and the tools of perpetuating ignorance. It is important to stress here that I am speaking primarily of public space, for religious space still possesses a good deal of the traditional hierarchisation. My point is that now that Islamist sheikhs and preachers have entered public space and engaged in politics, their religious vestments or legitimacy are no longer the criteria for political stature. An example is Nader Bakar, the 29-year-old spokesman for the Nour Party. In spite of his youth, he is highly regarded both within and outside of Salafist circles, and he has more than 80,000 subscribers on his Facebook page. It is also remarkable that he took it upon himself to publicise the dismissal of the errant MP, without first referring to the Nour Party's central board.

- The rivalry (not to say conflict) between Islamists themselves: While rivalry and tension within the Islamist fold is not new, it has never been so glaringly visible and public. This is only normal now that every shade of the Islamist spectrum is scrambling to expand its sphere in the public realm (in parliament, in the media, on the Internet, in civil society, etc) at the expense of the others. Some of these rivalries manifested themselves in the elections that were held recently in some Arab countries (Egypt, Tunisia, Kuwait, and perhaps Libya and Yemen soon). Moreover, what is noteworthy about these rivalries is that they no longer occur within an ideological or theological framework, but rather within one shaped by pure political interests and pragmatic considerations. For example, the Muslim Brothers and Salafis in Egypt cannot even agree on a presidential candidate to back in the forthcoming elections. Each side remains bent on supporting the candidate that it believes will promote its own political or ideological interests. Even more significantly, the conflict between the Islamists is no longer shaped by differences over the Islamisation of society and the state (which defined the bitter conflicts between the Muslim Brotherhood and Al-Gamaa Al-Islamiya or the Egyptian Jihad throughout the 1970s and 1980s) but rather over the establishment of a modern democratic state, at least with respect to form.

The conclusion that one draws from these preliminary observations is that the more that the Islamists engage in the public sphere, the less doctrinaire and the more realistic and rational they will become. Evidently, this is one of the effects of the lure of power.

In search of a non-revolutionary president!

Khalil al-Anani

Al-Ahram Weekly, 1 - 7 March 2012

The conventional political forces in Egypt are scrambling to find a candidate to back in the forthcoming presidential elections. By conventional forces is meant the military establishment, the Muslim Brotherhood, the Salafist movement, the government bureaucracy, and, of course, the remnants of the former Mubarak regime, who are waiting for the chance to make a comeback and put the whole of the past year behind us, as if it were a figment of the country's collective imagination. Naturally, the chief condition for these forces' prospective candidate is that he should not be from "Tahrir Square", in other words, that he should not be a revolutionary.

Not that they would say this outright. Rather, they are calling it a quest for a "consensual candidate". What they mean by this is an individual that has been agreed upon by "all forces", which, divided as they are by conflicting interests and outlooks, are nevertheless agreed on a single temporary aim: to ensure that the country's next president is some kind of political freak -- a political non-entity with no real powers and devoid of any ideological weight.

Over the past week, the Egyptian press has been carrying news of public and private efforts aimed at persuading current Arab League Secretary-General Nabil El-Arabi to put himself forward for the office. El-Arabi has responded with an unqualified no. He will not run for president "under any circumstances whatsoever".

Regardless of the accuracy of these reports, the fact that they have appeared is informative in itself. The reports tell us that the forces that have been pushing for a "consensual president" are now panicking in their attempts to come up with a cardboard president and that their methods of doing so have been conspiratorial in nature and therefore contradict the spirit and practice of democracy and the aims of the Egyptian revolution. The latter was waged to empower the Egyptian people by promoting their rights and their ability to exercise these effectively.

The flurry of behind-the-scenes activity further indicates that the forces in question have not been able to reach an agreement on any of the current presidential hopefuls -- Abdel-Moneim Abul-Fotouh, Amr Moussa, Hazem Salah Abu Ismail, Hamdeen Sabahi, Mohamed Selim El-Awwa, Ahmed Shafik and Omar Suleiman -- and that they have therefore had no choice but to start searching for another candidate who is not on the existing list in order to avert conflicts between them.

Any prospective "consensual" candidate will have to meet a number of conditions. For the generals, he will have to be someone who "sees no evil, hears no evil and speaks no evil" with regard to the military establishment's political, economic and social powers and privileges. He cannot be politically or ideologically opposed to the military leaders, and he cannot be a popular or charismatic figure who could eventually assert himself and steer the country away from the control of the military. This would rule out Abul-Fotouh, Abu Ismail and Sabahi.

For the Muslim Brotherhood, any suitable prospective candidate should not be Islamist, but should not be averse to the Islamists either, and should be able to win the support of the other forces. These conditions would rule out Abul-Fotouh, Abu Ismail and El-Awwa. The Salafis, consisting of various Salafist parties, organisations and movements, also have three conditions for any prospective candidate: he should be an Islamist or connected with the Islamist movement, should promote the application of Sharia law, and should not be a remnant of the former regime. These conditions favour Hazem Abu Ismail and rule out Suleiman and Moussa, both of whom are associated with the former regime.

The government bureaucracy and the entrepreneurial classes and influential families that intersect with it would clearly not favour either an Islamist or a revolutionary candidate for fear of jeopardising their remaining privileges. These conditions would once again rule out Abul-Fotouh, Abu Ismail and Sabahi.

Yet, in spite of their differences all these forces are keen to find a candidate that they think they can control and steer in a direction that would serve their interests, or at least not work against them. The reports that have been appearing in the Egyptian press confirm that the forces have recognised this common denominator, as well as the need for them to engage in haggling until they are able to produce a candidate who is more or less conducive to their needs.

The very notion of a "consensual president" is undemocratic, since the present backroom bargaining and negotiation is in reality a bid to deprive millions of Egyptians of the right to choose the person who will serve as the first president of the country after the revolution through fair and equitable democratic processes that are untainted by political and ideological dictates from above. Indeed, this backroom bargaining is an attempt to reproduce the selection machinery of the former regime, which was notorious for having the People's Assembly choose a president, who would then be presented to the public in a referendum and who would inevitably win a minimum of 90 per cent of the votes.

In post-revolutionary Egypt, the notion of a "consensual president" picked by the leaders of various political forces is not only conspiratorial but also an obvious affront to the revolution and the revolutionaries. Millions of Egyptians did not gather in Tahrir Square or other landmark squares up and down the country in order to topple a dictator only to find a "consensus president" forced down their throats with no regard for electoral competition or the will of the electorate. The advocates of this notion have let slip their disdain for the people and their ability to choose their own president, as well as their contempt for the other political forces and movements that have been excluded from this "consensus".

For the moment at least El-Arabi's rejection of the offer to become the "consensual president" has put the conspirators in a quandary. What will they do if they can't come up with a candidate who fits the bill by the time the nomination process begins? There are three possible scenarios.

The first is that the ruling Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF) and the Muslim Brotherhood could agree on a candidate. Such a candidate would need to be able to contain the revolution and eliminate pockets of revolutionary activity such as the student movement, the remainder of the revolutionary bloc and organisations operating in the field of human rights and civil rights advocacy. He could not have a broad popular base that would enable him later to turn against the SCAF and the Muslim Brotherhood, but he should be able to present a good façade abroad and be skilful in his handling of foreign relations, especially with Tel Aviv and Washington. Such a candidate also could not aspire to a second term in office.

Amr Moussa possesses all these qualifications, and he may be the ideal choice for the conspirators if they fail to agree on any other individual over the next few weeks. Although Moussa is associated with the former regime, he is not as tainted as are the two other presidential hopefuls from that regime, Shafik and Suleiman. Moussa's connection with the old regime could also be used as a whip to keep him in line should he attempt to stray from the agreement with the SCAF and the Muslim Brotherhood that put him into office. The Salafis and Al-Gamaa Al-Islamiya would also approve of the choice of Moussa in exchange for a number of concessions, such as ministerial positions in the next government or control over certain government agencies.

The second scenario would come into play in the event that the Salafis reject the SCAF-Muslim Brotherhood candidate and rally instead behind their candidate, Hazem Abu Ismail. In taking this route, the Salafis would be gambling that Abu Ismail's popularity and the growth of the Salafist tide in Egyptian society would be sufficient to sweep their candidate into power. However, they would also be risking a clash with the Muslim Brotherhood, which does not want an Islamist president, or, if the president must be Islamist, wants a candidate skilful enough to handle both domestic and foreign policy. On these criteria, Abu Ismail does not quite meet the mark.

In the third scenario, the SCAF would manage to persuade the Muslim Brotherhood and the Salafis to support El-Awwa. The latter is not a member of an Islamist organisation, though he was associated with one of the Muslim Brotherhood's Islamist rivals, the Wasat Party. At the same time, he is a pragmatist par excellence, and he would probably agree to whatever conditions the SCAF, the Muslim Brotherhood and the Salafis set in order to gain the presidency. He is also able to address the large conservative bloc in Egyptian society.

What may throw a spanner into the works and put paid to any idea of a "consensual president" is if the revolutionary forces back Abul-Fotouh for president. It is not just that the revolutionaries have no other alternative after Mohamed El-Baradei withdrew from the race, for under the present circumstances Abul-Fotouh is an ideal candidate for them in many ways. He has an irreproachable record of anti-regime activism under both the Sadat and Mubarak regimes, and although a member of the Muslim Brotherhood for a while, he managed to preserve his independence and was a forthright advocate of revolutionary and reformist convictions. These were the reasons he left the Muslim Brotherhood.

Abul-Fotouh also possesses the charisma that El-Baradei lacks, and he has the ability to address all sectors of Egyptian society. He also has the ability to address the international community and the West, in particular, by means of an enlightened, reformist discourse similar to that of Turkey's Justice and Development Party. Finally, he communicates well with the revolutionary forces, and he has considerable appeal to many adherents of the moderate Islamist movement.

Nevertheless, if Abul-Fotouh is to succeed in his bid for the presidency, he and his supporters will have an uphill battle before them, and they will need to work very hard to bring the silent majority to the polls to support them. They will also have to be on their guard against the ruses of the conventional forces that do not want a revolutionary president who could challenge their hold over the state and society.

Old habits die hard!

Khalil al-Anani

Foreign Policy 11 February 2012

Despite its stunning victory in the recent parliamentary elections, the image of the Muslim Brothers among revolutionary Egyptians is enormously shaking. The clashes between the movement's youth, who went to Tahrir Square to celebrate the anniversary of the Egyptian revolution, and the revolutionary activists, who protested against the military rule, reveals the widening gap between both groups. However, the problem is not that the Muslim Brotherhood (MB) is less "revolutionary" than other parties but rather because it simply cannot be.

Since its inception some eight decades ago, the MB avoided revolution or comprehensive change and embraced a gradual, sometimes sluggish, reform policy. Hassan al-Banna, the founder and ideologue of the MB, abandoned the word "revolution" in all his tracts instead advocating reform (Islah). More importantly, the social construction of the movement's members disavows radical change for the sake of gradual reform. The recruitment and socialization (tarbiyya) process, which every MB active member has to undergo, advocates steady and incremental reform of the self, society, and the state. Hence words like change, confrontation, clash, etc. seem alien to the MB's leaders and cadres. More significantly, whereas the "bottom-up" approach, which was espoused by the MB for decades, entrenched its social presence, nevertheless, it aborted its boldness and confidence in facing the Egyptian state.

Indeed, the heavy legacy of repression and exclusion under Hosni Mubarak's regime has made the MB an over-cautious and obsessed organization. Whilst the movement seeks to overcome this legacy, it seems unable to make a full rupture with its imbedded ramifications. True, the movement has supported the revolution since its outset; however, it never sought to initiate it or to end Mubarak's regime through mass protests. The mere result of such a thinking pattern was that accommodation not confrontation has become a key strategy for the MB in dealing with those in power. However, in revolutionary moments such as Egypt is currently undergoing, this strategy appears pointless and may even backfire on the MB and erode its long-standing popularity.

Paradoxically, despite the outright majority attained by its Freedom and Justice Party (FJP), the MB is still thinking and acting as an opposition movement rather than a responsible power-holder. It seems reluctant to take full power over the country or as Nathan Brown aptly puts it, "the MB confronts its success." Hence the MB's leaders are grappling with making the shift from long-standing repressed mentalities to those of statesmen, or as one of the MB's defectors has told me "they need a psychological rehabilitation" before ruling the country.

However, the question is not how the MB's leaders will rule the country but rather how will they legitimize and justify their power. The response of the MB's leadership on the disputes with other forces provides a gloomy pattern. Strikingly, the statement the movement issued on Tahrir Square's quarrel alarmed those who might disagree with its political stance. Whereas the movement should have apologized for its stark blunders over the past few months (e.g. disavowing Mohamed Mahmoud's street events, condemning Tahrir protesters during the cabinet building clashes, frequently granting the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF) legal and political immunity, etc.), it defied the mounting calls for an immediate transfer of power from the military to a civilian president. Ironically, the MB's newly-issued newspaper al-hurriyya wal'adala reiterated the rhetoric of notorious public newspapers toward Tahrir's protesters when it dubbed them "anarchists [who] seek to destabilize the country."

The conformity between the MB and the SCAF in dealing with the revolution comes as no surprise due to their mutual interests. The MB seeks to consolidate the extraordinary gains it attained since Mubarak's disposal without risking its internal coherence. And the junta wants to maintain their unusual privileges without any civilian oversight. Clearly, both are exemplifying an obsolete mindset. They promote "reform" over "revolution," "stability" not "change," and "procedural" instead of "genuine" democracy. Not surprisingly, they are involved in negotiating, compromising, and brokering the future of the country behind the scene.

Nevertheless, the hoary leadership pattern of the MB impedes its attempt to replace Mubarak's regime and to act as a ruling power. The MB needs to not only reshape and normalize its relationship with the state, society, and other political forces after decades of differentiation and operate as a "normal" political movement as opposed to a sub-state actor but more importantly to restructure its internal organization to fit with the new political environment in Egypt. Besides its controversial relationship with the FJP (which will likely discredit the party at some point), the MB's internal structures suffer from inertia. There are ample examples in this regard. For instance, it was expected after the revolution that the MB would rebuild its main structures (e.g. The Guidance Bureau (maktab alirshad al'am), the General Shura Council (majlis al-Shura al'am), and Administrative Bureaus (al-Makatib al-Idariyya), to be based on more democratic and representative procedures. However, the movement maintained these structures and marginalized those who were appealing for change. Not surprisingly, many of the MB's young activists are increasingly disenchanted and dissatisfied by the movement's stagnation and the unwise political behavior of its leaders. As one of the young Brothers recently told me "the revolution has not yet shattered the movement's old narratives." More ironically, even after lifting brutal surveillance and dissolving the State Security Apparatus (gihaz amnil dawla), the MB still practices its secrecy "habit" in running internal activities. The weekly and bi-monthly meetings of its micro-unites, the Family (al-usra) and the Branch (shu'ba), are convened clandestinely.

The FJP, so far, resembles its patron. It inherited the MB's organizational and political tactics. The way the party has selected its General Secretary, Saad El-Katatni, to become the parliament speaker provides a striking example. Up until now, neither the MB's grassroots nor the public knows how El-Katatni was chosen, who contested him, and how and when the selection process took place. The party did not issue a clear statement in this regard and none of its members asked. Unlike their Moroccan counterparts in the Party of Justice and Development (PJD), who held internal elections for governmental positions, the FJP is inclined to replicate the MB's pattern in appointing positions, lacking in transparency and accountability. Thus, the underlying factor behind the party's sweeping victory in the parliamentary elections should be attributed not to its revolutionary platform or liberal credentials but mainly because the social reservoir of its patron, the Muslim Brotherhood. Therefore, for Egypt to proceed toward a viable democracy, its new leading power (the MB) should be "revolutionized," otherwise nothing will change. However, old habits die hard!

Khalil al-Anani is a Scholar at the School of Government and International Affairs at Durham University and former visiting fellow at the Brookings Institute. He can be reached at k.m.ibrahim@durham.ac.uk.

Will the Salafis change tack?

Khalil al-Anani

Al-Ahram Weekly 2-8 February 2012

The growing influence of Salafis in Egypt has given rise to concern over their future role in parliament and what it may mean for Egypt's institutions and social fabric. Few paused long enough to ponder the silver lining; the mere possibility that the Salafis may actually have something to offer, or even learn from their current experience.

Conventional wisdom has it that Salafism is the exact opposite of secularism. This may be true insofar as each seems to feed on criticism of the other. Looking beneath the surface, however, one may discern the ways in which the Salafis are not much different from the seculars, and may become less different as time goes by.

This is a point that is often missed, especially by the seculars who tend to portray the Salafis, and all other Islamists, as irrational if not outright sinister. Such views may soon become outdated, for since the 25 January Revolution, the Salafis have been revising their ideas on politics and society at an unusually fast pace.

Seculars like to think of themselves as sensible people, rational and pragmatic, willing to face the facts and assess matters in an objective manner. The Salafis, many believe, are just the opposite: fanatical and irrational, backward and misinformed.

This judgement is erroneous in at least one aspect. The Salafis are not a monolithic group that is inure to dogma and immune to change. Indeed, they are showing every sign of being as willing to learn and change as everyone else in the country. They are prepared to become part of public life, with all the negotiations, the disputes, and the media exposure that come with it.

In terms of pragmatism and rational decision-making, the Salafis have been as open to compromising and as concerned about their public image as any other politician in the country.

Recently, the official spokesman of the Salafi Nour Party, Yosri Hammad, gave an interview to Israel's army radio to say that his party is committed to the 1979 peace treaty. This is remarkable on two counts. First, that no Egyptian secular politician has ever given an interview to that radio, which shows you at least that the Salafis are not as fanatical as they often sound. Second, Hammad made it clear that his party wanted to toe the national line with regard to Israel, "acting in accordance with the interest of the Egyptian state," as he put it.

The Salafis keep saying that they must "weigh the harm against the benefit," just in the same way a rational person -- secular if you wish -- would weigh the "pain against the gain". Also consider the way the Salafis define "benefit". It is not what matters for one individual alone, or for a group of individuals, but what matters for the country. Not the unsociable, un-Egyptian behaviour one would associate with foaming-at-the-mouth fanatics.

A key figure in the Nour Party recently said that his party supports the Egyptian stock exchange (a bastion, you may notice, of secular capitalism). This is the kind of comment one has to consider carefully. The Salafis can rant all they want against the sins of interest rates and Western banking, but when push comes to shove, they know how to back down.

Ultra-orthodox as they are, the Salafis crave political power, and seem to be willing to do what it takes to stay in the game. This is why they are so far playing by the rules of a game designed initially, as you all know, by non-Muslims. Elections, the nation state, parties, parliament, and all the rest of it are now part of the daily vocabulary of Salafist life. It is a new experience, with a steep learning curve, and they are learning from it, as well as from the exposure to public opinion that comes with it.

This is not the way it used to be. The Salafis used to live in a cocoon, almost shut off from the outside world. Then they had their opportunity to break into the political scene. And what a great timing this was for them. The Mubarak regime, having stamped out any organised opposition, left them a political arena that was devoid of competition, one that they could venture into with relative ease, thanks to the increased religiosity in the general population.

Before the 25 January Revolution, Salafist discourse was mostly dogmatic, dealing with abstract matters of sin and virtue. There was no dialect, no revision, no need to weigh "harm and benefit". Now it is a different situation, one in which they should be more pragmatic, as Sheikh Youssef El-Qaradawi said.

Since the 25 January Revolution, the conservative supporters of the Salafis have become more outgoing. They have been talking about who to vote for and what they want from the parliament, and the debate has been changing the way they think. Followers of the Salafist movement are changing. No longer satisfied to be recipients of dogma, they seem to cherish their newly won role as contributors to a debate.

In religious terms, one may say that the power of the sheikh over the flock is waning. Consequently, the Salafist discourse is drifting from the absolutism of the past to the relativism of the present. It is remarkable how Salafi candidates have based their electoral programme not on concepts of sin and virtue but on urgent matters of public interest.

The case of Abdel-Moneim El-Shahhat, the Salafi politician, is worth noting here. His flamboyant antics have just lost him the elections. If he had reckoned that bashing democracy, art and culture would win him brownie points in ultra- religious streets, he was wrong. Not only did the flock shy away from him, but also his friends in the Nour Party took distance from him, hoping to avoid negative publicity in the midst of elections. Call it opportunism, but this is secular politics for you, and the Salafis are ready to step out of dogma to stay in the game.

Not only are Salafi leaders forced into less dogmatic positions, the Salafi public is now demanding more of their religious mentors. They are pushing the sheikhs to try harder, to stay relevant to the political game, and the latter are feeling the pressure. Also, there is a newfound openness in the religious market, so to speak. There are more players on the preaching scene, more debate and more vitality. Eventually, the dogmatic preachers may find the scene of preaching getting more competitive as time goes by. The sudden openness in society following the 25 January Revolution has affected everything, including the religious scene. There is a sense of fluidity in the Islamist camp. There is no longer a dominant group on the Islamist scene, but several groups, competing and challenging each other's position.

As a result, the average citizen has more choice, both in political and religious matters, and even the most zealous of religious groups have to make sense to the public, have to be accountable. Does this remind you of something? Does it, for example, remind you of secular politics?

In this country we have a significant part of the economy that is purely Islamist. Part of the fashion industry, part of the publishing industry, the printing houses, the recording business, have taken on an Islamic veneer. This comes with social ramifications. People who invest in this economy and who work for it have political interests, a social network, family connections, and professional ties, and they are becoming part of the current debate. This, too, adds to the vitality of religious discourse in the country.

I am not saying that the Salafis are going to go liberal, but only that they will become pragmatic enough to be able to work with everyone else, including the liberals. The more Egypt becomes politically open, the more the Salafis would gravitate to the political middle. They will become Salafist-lite if you will, more practical and less dogmatic. It will not happen overnight, but it will happen.

SCAF radicalizes the mob

Khalil al-Anani

Egypt Independent 8 February 2012

The mere result of the constant clashes between protesters and the remnants of Mubarak’s regime in the Ministry of Interior is radicalizing the Egyptian public. The irresponsible reaction of Field Marshal Hussein Tantawi, the head of the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, who urged Egyptians to fight those who caused the massacre in Port Said, reflects this reality. Aside from the massacre, pushing Egypt toward fragility and disorder appears to be a deliberate and planned tendency.

Since they took power after the disposal of Hosni Mubarak, the junta sought to diffuse the revolutionary mood among ordinary Egyptians and turn them against revolutionary forces. To achieve this goal, they adopted a shrewd policy based on dismantling the revolutionary bloc. It started first by fueling the political disputes and schism among political forces through the proposal of “supra-constitutional principles,” which put Islamists in the face of liberal and secular forces. Second, it waged a relentless and ugly media campaign against activists to discredit them, such as the April 6 Youth Movement and the Revolutionary Socialists, etc. Third, it raided and attacked human rights organizations and NGOs that supported the revolution and sought to sue the military for its awful mistakes during the transition. And now it seeks to smear the ultras, the football fans, and punish them for their courageous role during the revolution. However, what the junta does not realize is that the ultras and young activists are aware of such useless policy. Hence, they insist to continue the revolution despite its high cost.

Nevertheless, the utter failure of the junta in achieving any of the previous goals pushed it to use the last card left, namely to radicalize the mob to justify their abortion of the revolution. The apathetic response of Tantawi to the Port Said massacre signals to this. Instead of sacking the government or dismissing the interior minister, Tantawi appeared unconcerned and played down the consequences of the massacre. Ironically, he blamed people for not fighting each other.

By not acting responsibly, SCAF is pushing the mob into a corner. It drives them crazy by maintaining the state of frustration and disenchantment among protesters.

The consequences, however, of such policy will backfire against the junta and undermine its power for many reasons. First, the main bulk of the current wave of protesting, particularly the ultras fans, belongs to the lower-middle and lower income groups. They have already paid a huge price before and after the revolution. Hence, they are now fighting not only to build a real democracy but, more importantly, to avert any attempt to revive Mubarak’s regime and reproduce its structures. Second, if the mob decided to turn against the military, no one will be able to stop them. The experience of the daily clashes between the mob and security forces enhanced their ability to withstand for days, if not weeks, in the face of security repression. They adopted an “exhaustion warfare” strategy in dealing with security forces and have devolved the skills to manipulate them. It was the strategy that led to the startling collapse of the security forces in the inception of the revolution on 28 January last year. Additionally, if the junta disavowed the current crisis and did not take real and quick decisions to absorb the mob’s rage, they will become the next target.

Hence, the epicenter of protesting will move from the Ministry of Interior to the Ministry of Defense, which no one wants to happen. Over the past few months, protesters have already attempted to demonstrate in front of the Ministry of Defense; however, with the continuing impasse, it is likely to happen again and much more forcefully.

Radicalizing the mob already started during the Mohamed Mahmoud clashes last November, when hundreds of peaceful protesters were shot dead, lost their eyes or brutally wounded. SCAF’s provocation reached a tipping point after attacking the sit-in at the cabinet building last December, when military forces blatantly beat and dragged protesters.

This radicalization could lead at some point to a militarization of the revolution, which will put the country on verge of a complete chaos. Those who are protesting against the rotten Ministry of Interior insist on bringing it down, not only because of its brutal and bloody record but mainly because of its role in subverting the revolution and working in favor of Mubarak’s regime. It is exemplifying the core of the old system, which needs to be fundamentally purged.

More importantly, the mob has lost confidence in the newly elected Parliament to take revolutionary action against SCAF. Parliament, however — the only legitimate institution in Egypt — seems powerless and useless. Up until now, it has neither dared to confront SCAF, holding it accountable for the Port Said massacre, nor was it able to put an end to the mounting clashes in downtown Cairo between protesters and security forces. Parliament’s response was shameful and disappointing to many Egyptians who felt betrayed by their MPs.

Clearly, the mob lost faith and trust in the state’s institutions, e.g. judiciary, the government and Parliament. They no longer believe that such institutions have the will or power to uphold justice; this skepticism could push the country to the edge of complete failure and disorder.

The FJP's Foreign Policy

Khalil al-Anani

Ahram Weekly 1 February 2012

The stance of the MB's Freedom and Justice Party (FJP) on foreign policy is tricky. The most likely explanation for this phenomenon has to do with the relationship between the FJP and the Muslim Brotherhood, which is so close that their respective positions, signals and statements are frequently identical. As we know, the party is the political arm of the Muslim Brotherhood and the latter is the social and organisational incubator of the party, which is not yet one year old. However, now that the parliamentary elections are over, yielding results that entitle the FJP to assume the leadership of the new People's Assembly, that relationship has to change. The party no longer represents the Muslim Brotherhood alone; it represents a large segment of the populace who are not members of that organisation yet and who voted for FJP candidates in the recent elections in sufficient numbers to enable the party to win a majority.

This presents the party with a historic opportunity -- if used well -- to loosen its ties with the mother organisation so as to gain a greater degree of flexibility and manoeuvrability. On the basis of its electoral victory it can replace the "pedigree" legitimacy it acquired by birth from the Muslim Brotherhood with a new type of legitimacy, one that is broader and more powerful because its source and foundations are the people. With this popular legitimacy it will be able to reposition itself as a true majority party, as opposed to a party belonging to a specific group or class.

"Disengagement" between the FJP and the Muslim Brotherhood, at the political level at the very least, is crucial in this phase. Moreover, it will benefit both sides. The Muslim Brotherhood will be free to voice whatever positions it wishes, on both domestic and foreign policy issues, and particularly on the matter of Israel, which to the Brotherhood is a subject of central importance, historically, religiously and ideologically, and one that has won it a considerable degree of legitimacy and popularity in the Arab street. No one will blame the Brotherhood for airing its views as long as these reflect the ideas and attitudes of its own members. At the same time, "disengagement" will give the party the freedom and flexibility it needs to establish stances and take decisions on foreign policy matters on the basis of risk/benefit analyses as opposed to religious or ideological obligations to the Muslim Brotherhood organisation. The importance of this can not be understated, for since obtaining a parliamentary majority that poises it to form a new government, it has stopped being a party of the Brotherhood "group" and has become a party of "the state", and representative of the interests of a vast segment of the Egyptian people. Thirdly, a clear distance between the group and the party will make life easier for both. Neither will be able to court trouble for the other, as has occurred on a number of occasions, the most recent being during the controversy over the future of the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces.

Nor is there a need for the two to continue to cling so closely together. If the Egyptian revolution lifted the "domestic" ban on the Muslim Brotherhood and enabled its re-assimilation into society after years of ostracism and vilification, the Egyptian ballot box lifted the "external" ban and won international recognition for them both. Moreover, Washington is currently working to reorder its relationship with them and seems ready to proceed with the development of a strategic partnership with the Muslim Brothers, marking a radical shift in US policy towards this movement.

I can understand why both the party and the Brotherhood would find it difficult to effect such a separation at this phase; however, they could overcome their reluctance if they approached the matter from the perspective that a "relative" parting of ways would be to the advantage of them both. There are four basic principles that would help them demarcate the boundaries between them and, simultaneously, ensure that the FJP has the flexibility and manoeuvrability it needs in foreign policy.

The first is to draw a line between the "universal" and the "national" so as to maintain the Egyptian national interest as the primary determinant and objective of the party's foreign policy thinking. The FJP would be mistaken to subscribe to the "universalism" that the Muslim Brotherhood espouses in its literature and political discourse. Not only would this be unrealistic, but it could also lead the party into any number of errors or futile squabbles that would only drain its energies and resources. It is important to stress that the pursuit of Egyptian interests by no means implies ignoring Arab and Islamic causes. Rather, the point is that these interests are the "measure" for the decisions the party takes on domestic and foreign policy issues. I am certain that most of the party's leaders have the awareness they need to operate on this premise. However, their organisational obligations to the Muslim Brotherhood (which may conflict with their political party commitments, in the narrow sense) could lead them to attempt to please the sheikhs and leaders of the mother organisation to the detriment of the party.

Secondly, a line should be drawn between allegiance to the organisation and allegiance to the state in foreign policy decision-making processes. This principle is clearly related to the first. As a proselytising religious movement, the Muslim Brotherhood's priorities are not at all identical to the priorities of its political party, which has different functions and duties. Whereas the former is concerned with the moral reform of society and raising religious awareness, the FJP, in cooperation with other political parties, must focus, above all, on the reconstruction of the Egyptian state, the higher allegiance and true source of legitimacy of all political players. Therefore, a line must be drawn between the "realm of proselytising" and the "realm of the state" so as to avert confusion between the hierarchical frameworks of the Muslim Brotherhood and those of the party when it comes to forming a new government or designing foreign policy. Individuals suited for proselytising work may not necessarily serve the foreign policy purposes of the state; people who are good at addressing domestic audiences may blunder when addressing audiences abroad. I should stress, here, that I am not suggesting that the Muslim Brotherhood and the FJP sever the organisational bond between them or even draw a line between proselytising and politics. As important as such steps are, they do not look realistic at present. Rather, my point is that the party should adopt a state/national interest mind- set, rather than a Muslim Brotherhood/proselytising mind-set, when it comes to foreign policy.

The third principle is for the party to make the transition from ideological partisanship to political pragmatism and realism. Foreign policy cannot be conducted on the basis of set maxims and rigid dictums, especially in this period of intensive flux and reconstitution through which the world is passing. The closer the party's outlooks and presumptions are to reality, the more it will be able to attain the goals and aspirations of the Egyptian nation. Countless historical experiences testify to the fact that strapping foreign policy into an ideological straightjacket can lead to irreparable disaster.

To be pragmatic is not to abandon values or principles or to compromise on identity and its significance. It simply means drawing a line between subjective and ideological considerations and objective and realistic assessments when it comes to taking decisions. It also means that when values and principles are called into play, they are applied with the greatest degree of rationalism and caution so as to avert the many nightmarish traps and pitfalls foreign policy designers and executors can fall into. Therefore, FJP leaders must consciously work to overcome the many rigid attitudes and stereotypical perceptions that have long been part of the Muslim Brotherhood indoctrination process for the purposes of sustaining its internal cohesion, for only then will they attain the clarity of vision and intellectual flexibility they need in order to interact effectively in the regional and international environments and to take the best possible decisions on the basis of constant reassessments of changing realities on the ground.

The fourth principle is to draw a distinction between the interests of the Muslim Brotherhood and the interests of the FJP. This is not to imply that there is a necessary contradiction between the two. Rather, the purpose is to ensure that neither prevails over the other irrespective of the general welfare of the state. Given that their respective fields of activity, priorities and means of action are different, it is only natural that their interests would not overlap. This is not bad. In fact, it is the insistence that the party's interests must be identical to those of the organisation that could jeopardise them both. There is no reason that the party's positions should necessarily suit the interests of the Muslim Brotherhood group, just because that group was the main organisational and financial founder of the party. As mentioned above, with its electoral victory the basis of the party's legitimacy shifted from the Muslim Brotherhood to the street. This is now where its interests reside and these may or may not coincide with the "group". Therefore, when it comes to foreign policy, the FJP must transcend the "forbidden/permitted" mind-set of the Muslim Brotherhood and operate on the basis of what is possible and available. Both sides must realise that if the FJP succeeds this will count as a success for both the state and the Muslim Brotherhood, but that if it fails the failure will be the Muslim Brotherhood's alone.

With respect to their foreign policy in particular, FJP leaders should adopt the motto of their Turkish counterparts in the Justice and Development Party: "We have no enemies, we are independent and our country comes first!"

The Arab Spring: Voting Islamism

Larbi Sadiki
AlJazeera International

Exeter, United Kingdom - Twenty years is a footnote in the big scheme of history. In the early 1990s, new prophets were being placed on a pedestal to reshape the region. The fad "New Middle East" was born. Many scholars fell under the spell of Shimon Peres, one of the earliest prophets of the "New Middle East". From Morocco (where Peres first outlined his vision) to the UAE, statesmen, journalists and policy formulators readjusted rhetoric to that vogue.

George W Bush and Condoleezza Rice, among others, tried after the sacking of Baghdad to resuscitate some life into the term, which was tattered by the disjunction of rhetoric and practice. Peres authored (with Arye Naor) the term into a book in 1993. Its prose was nicely laced with political correctness and its jargon: peace, democratisation and economic development for all.

That "New Middle East" cloned the old Middle East, remaining bereft of two vital elements: statehood for the Palestinians, and an Arab role commensurate with their size and importance as a power sub-system unified by religious and linguistic commonality, bonds of history, geographic propinquity, and unfulfilled aspirations for development and economic integration.

The "Arab Spring" - even if its detractors will keep dreaming of it being supervened into an "Arab Winter" - is the first time since Nasser that has reclaimed unity of purpose and direction in a single term, a term that is the Arabs' own in form and substance.

The Arab Spring and Islamism

Nothing like the "Arab Spring" spells danger for the superimposition of outside ideas on the Arab peoples. However, this "Arab Spring" is today in need of free inquiry and critical input to aid its fruition into a sustainable democratic becoming. Some of this input must be addressed to the Islamists who are looming as the major driving force of the current reshaping of the Arab region.

Their endorsement seems to be universal across the geography of the "Arab Spring". Note how some of the Islamist candidates in Egypt secured seats through formidable popular endorsement. Ramadan Omar, the Brotherhood's Freedom and Justice Party candidate in the 9th district, contesting the single seat in the category of seats allocated to workers, received nearly 429,000 votes. That is more than the total votes of entire parties in Tunisia.

This perhaps explains why some liberal parties or figures wanted the elections to be cancelled; and a few in Egypt, including businessmen affiliated with Mubarak, are still working to sabotage the polls. They can think of the spectre of a strong Islamist showing in the elections happening at their expense, and not helping reap the dividends of the Arab Spring through institution-building for the whole of Egypt.

That said, it has become scarcely possible to conceive of a reshaped Middle East without being brought up against a basic fact: the rise and continuing rise of Islamist forces. Three questions must be faced.

By attempting to answer them, the objective is to produce a framework into which ways of thinking about the democratic potentiality of the Arab Spring can be fitted.

Question 1: Is Islam the solution?

Islamists proceed on the assumption that there are enough resources for developing a normative blueprint for developing a political order in line with the divine design revealed to the Prophet Mohamed and supplemented by the corpus of Prophetic Tradition.

To seek a good approximation of the divine design through the construction of a democratic socio-moral order for polity, society, economy, culture and epistemology, the Islamists need to avoid getting embroiled in the non-essentials of both Islam and the current period of transition.

For instance, if the aim is a community of citizens living in a republic of laws, then excluding compatriots holding two nationalities is out of line. Mubarak, Ben Ali, Assad, and the late Gaddafi all had a single nationality; but that did not make them upright citizens in the service of their nations.

The non-essentials of sect, youth, religion and gender should not impinge on equal rights to citizenship. The only factor should be merit and record of service. In this sense, collective punishment of all members of formerly ruling parties may not suit the moment of making freedom and fairness the name of the game.

Islamists can lead the way in stamping out corruption, injustice, and exclusion, but to do this they need to partner with the rest of society. As someone who, over 16 years, interviewed dozens of Egypt's Brotherhood leaders and activists - from the time of Mustafa Machhour up to present - and Jordanian, Sudanese, Tunisian, Hamas and Hezbollah Islamists, the Arab Spring has given Islamists an opportunity to demonstrate how "Islam can be beautiful" in practice.

This is not an easy challenge to measure up to, when not knowing what to achieve immediately or gradually, and what not to desperately - and perhaps unnecessarily - cling to, when the setting and the environment right now are prohibitive.

For instance, the likes of newly elected Ennahdha members Sadek Shorou or Habib Ellouz voice commitment to Islamic law as they enter the Constituent Assembly. Is Tunisia ready for Islamic law now? Thousands of Islamists, from Palestine to Morocco, share the same vision of a socio-moral order governed by shariah.

The key idea is to critically think about whether Islam is the solution now or in the future, and whether Islam is a solution for all matters or some matters. Islamists may find that in politics they may have to recalibrate rhetoric until the rethought component regarding "Islam is the solution" is subjected to the tests and rigours of the new reality as power-holders.

Question 2: Is democratisation the solution?

Islamists seem not to be driven by political domination in this stage of the Arab Spring. Even with 40 per cent of the vote, they end up being holders of parliamentary majority. This has been the case in Egypt (after the first round of the multi-stage elections) and Tunisia after the October elections.

They do not have the political capital and experience, nor does the timing permit for such a democratic preference. The current phase demands partnership, coalition-building, capacity-building and modesty. This applies to Tunisia's Ennahdha as well to Egypt's Freedom and Justice Party. In Tunisia, Ennahda obtaining a few more than one million votes - in a country where nearly three million did not register, and of the four million that did register, many fewer voted - does not constitute a majority. A reality-check is important to relativise electoral results and statistics.

The most important question, in my view, in summing up the challenge facing Islamists in power regards the following dilemma.

Pragmatically, Islamists have postponed the project of the Islamic state - and some even the implementation of Islamic law - until such a time when there is a properly functioning Muslim society. Brilliant; I concur! The reasoning behind this is that the perfect Islamic society is nowhere to be yet found in the geography of the global Islamic community. Just as illustrated by the standard example mentioned everywhere of Omar ibn Al-Khattab, who suspended alms-giving during the drought years of his caliphate.

Now, as nearly or quasi power-holders, Islamists should apply this to democratic transition. Democratic majoritarianism must equally be postponed until there is a properly functioning democratic public and society. Period.

The current democratic transition period is marked by coalition-building politics, mostly between Islamists and secularists and liberals.

In Tunisia, the Ennahdha Party was not keen on the idea of Abdelfattah Morou forming his own political party, making Islamism rigidly single-tracked. Unlike Tunisia, in Egypt, Islamism is diverse: Salafist and Sufi parties and the Wasat Party all share degrees of religious affinity.

In Tunisia, Ennahdha deftly knew how to engage in power-sharing, offering the presidency of the republic to Moncef Merzouki (Congress for the Republic) and that of the Constituent Assembly to Mustafa bin Jaafar (Ettakattol). It is still too early to tell how the Muslim Brotherhood will act, as the single agenda of the soon-to-be newly elected parliament in helping draft a constitution from January.

There are two fundamental issues here: firstly, there are already problems on the coalition-building model in Tunisia. Ennahdha wants a quasi-nominal presidency with much watered-down executive powers. Merzouki disagreed and this has thus far delayed the forming of the new government. He has, in the past week, acquired executive clout to go with the office, after Ennahdha relented. Now the final say rests with the Constituent Assembly to vote on his sole candidature.

In any case, the terms of coalition-building must be stated from the outset or the process risks producing political paralysis, not vigour in political praxis.

Coalition-building with liberals or other secular forces, including leftist forces, set Islamist-led transitions on less-ideologically charged democratisation as they have to take on board liberal or secularist policy preferences. This is a plus for transition. Note how Ennahdha President Rachid Ghannouchi no longer minds "bikinis" and his first statement after the elections was to allay the fears of investors, endorsing the "free market".

Secondly - and this is the drawback - by choosing to co-opt formidable forces into coalition, victorious Islamists more or less pre-empt the function of opposition. At least, this is the case in Tunisia. If the two parties with the most potential build themselves into the democratic rivals of Ennahdha and then end up joining the Islamists as governing partners, the Constituent Assembly will not be a place of vibrant opposition, deliberation, contests and counter-contests.

The Islamist turn?

Socialists, secularists and colonials have had their go at rebranding the Middle East. It is too early yet to speak of an "Islamist turn", even if all indications from initial electoral contests from Morocco to Egypt, and including Turkey, strongly hint the Arab Spring, in its first version, is marked by unprecedented openings for Islamist forces and socio-moral projects in polity and economy.

Some Salafis in Egypt used the electoral populist slogan that they "do not bite". It may be the case. What is challenging for all politicians riding the Arab Spring into power, including Islamists, is that the populace will need more than political barking. They will need tangible change for the better.

Dr Larbi Sadiki is a Senior Lecturer in Middle East Politics at the University of Exeter, and author of Arab Democratization: Elections without Democracy (Oxford University Press, 2009) and The Search for Arab Democracy: Discourses and Counter-Discourses (Columbia University Press, 2004).

The illusive rise of Islamists

Khalil al-Anani

Foreign Policy, December 8, 2011

The results of the first round of polling in Egypt have released an uproar, which has overwhelmed the media and startled the public sphere. But the victory of Islamist parties is overrated. Given Islamists' entrenched presence in the Arab societies, politically, economically, and socially, let alone the abundant religious propaganda, it is more striking that thus far none of the Islamists parties have obtained an absolute majority in recent elections.

Islamists in Tunis, Morocco, and Egypt cannot claim superiority over other political forces. The seeming triumph of Islamist forces will soon be revealed as an illusion. In Tunis, the Ennahda Party won only 37 percent of constituent assembly seats (89 out of 217), which placed them ahead of other political parties but did not grant Ennhada the final word in writing the new constitution or in forming a unilateral government. In Morocco, the Party of Justice and Development (PJD) barely won 27 percent in the elections (107 out of 395 of seats) with less than 46 percent voter turnout. True, the PJD received more than double the votes it won in the last elections (the party got 47 seats in 2007 elections), and it is the first time for a party to get this number of seats since the first Moroccan elections in 1963. However, the peculiarity and complexity of the Moroccan electoral system (which creates a fractured parliament) does not guarantee a single party dominance over the legislature.

In Egypt, for sure, Islamists have so far fared well in the first round of elections and are expected to maintain their success. However, it is off base to assume that they will control an unshakable majority of the new parliament. The Muslim Brotherhood's Freedom and Justice Party (FJP), the iconic and the most potent Islamist movement in the Arab world, received just 36.6 percent of votes in the first round despite its long-standing experience in running election campaigns. (Although the movement had officially been banned for decades, many Brothers ran in elections as "independent" candidates.) The greater surprise lies in the relative success of the ultraconservative salafists, the dark horse of the Egyptian elections, who garnered 24.3 percent of the votes. But it is highly unexpected that they will achieve the same proportion in the two upcoming phases of elections. Not only because of their unwise and naïve Islamic rhetoric which has overshadowed the media over the past few weeks, but also because they will confront their more moderate Islamist counterparts, the Muslim Brotherhood and Al-Wasat Party. In the run-off elections between individual candidates this week, the Brotherhood crushed their salafi rivals, winning nearly ten times as many seats.

One of the major fears associated with the rise of the Islamists is that they will use their power to reshape political institutions in their favor. But in fact, these elections will not change the rules of the game in favor of the newcomers and empower them. Not one of the "rising" Islamist parties will be able to take real power from the incumbent rulers - at least not from their performance at the ballot box.

In Tunis, as well as in Morocco and Egypt, Islamists parties that won the elections will not be able to significantly alter the status quo to their benefit. First, the embedded authoritarian structures are still functioning and the old elite is vibrant. The heavy legacy of Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali and Hosni Mubarak will impede any attempt by new governments to dismantle these structures. For instance, the Ennahda Party, after forming a coalition government that is still under intensive negotiations, will grapple with two old and entrenched institutions: the army and the security establishment. Both will fight to preclude any fundamental changes that might affect their interests. The Tunisian army showed a remarkable degree of self-restraint from grabbing power after Ben Ali fled; however, its generals are not angels. They view the army as "the guardian of the republic" which might hint to an oversight if not a soft patronage role particularly if civilians could not tame their roles in the new constitution. They will attentively monitor the political scene from behind the curtain. It is much worse with the security forces, which will not bow to the new realities easily. Any attempt to rehabilitate them to fit into the new democratic settings might undermine the whole process of transition.

In Morocco, the monarch is sovereign, untouchable and operates above politics. The constitutional amendments that were approved last July in a celebrated referendum do not confer much power to the parliament. They reorganized the political domain to become more visible, yet ineffective. The PJD will form a weak government that will seek to appease the monarchy and the street at the same time. Not surprisingly, the PJD is not positioning itself as a contender to the palace (al-Makhzan), which retains the full power over the state and society.

In Egypt, it is even more blatant. The military is the only player in town and the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF) appears unlikely to cede power to the Muslim Brotherhood or any other political party. The new parliament, which will likely be led by Islamists, will therefore be ineffective and constrained. According to a constitutional declaration approved by a popular referendum last March, the SCAF has the exclusive power to assign and dismiss the government. In a recent message sent through SCAF General Mamdouh Shaeen, legal assistant to the defense minister, the leading parties in the elections will not be able to form the government, dissolve the SCAF's appointed government, or question its ministers. More ironically, the parliament will not have the authority to craft the new constitution without the SCAF's oversight. Therefore, the mere outcome of the on-going elections will merely add to the fragmented and divisive political scene.

None of the Islamist parties will form a unilateral government. They will have to bargain, build coalitions, and make concessions. By doing so, Islamists will have to rein in their political ambitions and show elasticity in sharing power. More significantly, as a part of transition dynamics, Islamists are more prone to abandon their original goals, such as building an Islamic state and applying the Islamic law (sharia). The recent statements of Islamists leaders in Tunis, Morocco, and Egypt show a tendency toward re-prioritizing their agenda to become more pragmatic and realistic. Instead of focusing on the sacred and identity issues, they have been inclined to address more mundane and practical problems including reforming education, fighting corruption, and rebuilding infrastructure.

With the ethos of the Arab Spring still thriving, the young Arabs will not tolerate any violation of personal freedoms and human rights. The new "Islamist" governments will be required not only to give assurances of respecting political pluralism, minorities' rights, freedom of speech, and so forth, but more importantly will need to provide genuine concessions pertaining to their Islamic pursuits. In other words, the pressure on Islamists will not be confined to their political positions, whereby they can shrewdly maneuver against their adversaries, but more importantly will affect their ideological convictions, which will subvert their "illusive" rise.
Khalil al-Anani is a Scholar at the School of Government and International Affairs at Durham University, UK and a former visiting fellow at the Brookings Institute. He can be reached at:
k.m.ibrahim@durham.ac.uk

The end of military rule in Egypt is inevitable

Khalil al-Anani

OpenDemocracy, November 28, 2011
For almost six decades, the Egyptian army has operated above politics. No matter what they did, no one dared to hold the army generals accountable. The last time they faced intense scrutiny was after the humiliating defeat by Israel in 1967 (naksa), which led to the trial of Field Marshal Abdelhakim Amer and the Minister of Defence Shams Badran during the Nasser epoch.

However, since the ousting of Hosni Mubarak last February, the celebratory image of the Egyptian military as the guardian of the revolution has been crumbling. This is not only due to the catastrophic blunders of the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF), the de facto rulers of Egypt, but more importantly because the revolution itself aimed to end the military’s dominance in Egypt since 1952. Mubarak was not only a despot who stayed in power longer than any other Egyptian ruler since Mohamed Ali’s reign in the nineteenth century, but he was also a veteran who consolidated his power base while serving in the Egyptian army for almost four decades.

Mubarak was the heir of two autocratic presidents, Nasser and Sadat, who set about building the military into everyday politics. Contrary to his predecessors though, Mubarak, upon assuming power in 1981, shrewdly sought to neutralize the army’s influence in politics. He tended to co-opt high-ranking army generals to this plan through economic and social privileges and by excluding and marginalizing those who might threaten his authority. The result of this series of policies was the depoliticization of the military elite.

So it was that once Mubarak was removed, SCAF was faced with an immense quandary about how to deal with a volatile and highly fluid political environment. Egypt’s highest military institution was taken by surprise by last January’s revolution, and it did not have any plans on how to fill the vacuum left by the absence of Mubarak’s brutal apparatuses. While SCAF did not side with Mubarak in the face of Tahrir protesters; it still has no idea on what the next phase should be. Its out-dated and conservative mind-set, jumbled ideology, and extreme wariness, fails to convince Egyptians that SCAF can competently run the country. Neither has SCAF succeeded in containing the growing discontent among young activists who have astutely de-legitimized and exposed SCAF’s policy over the past ten months.

Moreover, the discourse of the Egyptian military reveals its limited political skills and poor management of civil affairs. When SCAF leaders stress that they do not seek to maintain power we should believe them. This is not because they lack political ambitions or the desire to maintain their current supremacy, but simply because they are politically incapable of consolidating their status. Unlike the Free Officers who took power after the coup d’état of the 1952, SCAF’s leaders do not have the mechanisms necessary to tighten their grip on power: a coherent ideology, a political organization, and a platform for modernization.

Ideology

As a result of Mubarak’s policy to de-politicize the army, the Egyptian military did not adopt or develop a unique political doctrine or ideology e.g. Nasser’s socialism or Sadat’s liberalism (Infitah). Apart from its traditional and more conservative character, the Egyptian military is not inclined to espouse particular political preferences. True, some SCAF leaders sought to elaborate such a preference, e.g. the attempt by Sami Anan, the Chief of Staff, to defend the civilian nature of the Egyptian state vs. the Islamists. However, for many Egyptians this seems totally untenable. Unlike Nasser who embraced socialism and pan-Arabism to galvanize the masses, SCAF leaders are struggling to comprehend how young Egyptians think and what they aspire to. In the words of one young activist, "They [SCAF leaders] lack the political imagination to articulate a position that avoids conflict on the street, but shows a presence in the square: they're portraying themselves as worse than they are”.

Political organization

A junta must have a potent and compelling political machine that can inspire people and win their loyalty. For instance, to consolidate his power Nasser dissolved all political parties and associations and created the single-party system. The role of the Arab Socialist Union (al-Ithad al-Arbi al-Ishtraki) was not to dominate the political arena but more importantly to disseminate Nasserism among Egyptians and beyond. Unlike his predecessor, Sadat moved from the one-party system towards a more restricted pluralism. He created weak and fragile political parties with one dominant party, the National Democratic Party (NDP). More blatantly, Mubarak further weakened the political parties and gave more power to the NDP.

Contrary to its predecessors, SCAF has put in place regulations to establish new political parties after the revolution. As a result, more than 25 parties have been established since last February in addition to the existing 24 parties, which brings the full count to 49 parties. Clearly, SCAF does not rely upon a political apparatus that can diffuse its doctrine and it has not invested in creating such a political mechanism. The sole institution that helps SCAF resolve the political complexities of the post-Mubarak era is the Public Intelligence Apparatus (Jihaz a-Mukhabrat al’ama). This outfit played a historically tremendous role in the construction of various Middle Eastern authoritarian regimes. It alone of Egypt’s institutions remains substantially untouched by the Egyptian revolution. Many Egyptians believe, that the Mukhabrat provides policy recommendations to SCAF on how to act and how to make decisions.

Modernization

It is has become apparent that SCAF does not have a programme for the future, nor does it have a vision for modernizing the country. Over the past ten months, SCAF has failed to deliver the bare necessities for Egyptians, e.g. preserving individuals’ security, managing food prices, increasing wages etc. More ironically, when protesters in Tahrir Square have called for forming a new salvation government after the deadly clashes with security forces, SCAF defied them and appointed Kamal El-Ganzouri, a 78-year old political veteran who served under Mubarak, as prime minister. Appointing El-Ganzouri, despite the criticism, reflects not only the enormous generational gap between SCAF leaders and Tahrir protesters but more significantly the mounting mistrust between both parties which can only lead to more clashes.

If we are going to treat the Egyptian revolution as a soft coup d’état, it must be characterized as a coup without a plan. SCAF’s leaders lack Nasser’s talented and charismatic leadership, Sadat’s savvy, and Mubarak’s vigilance. That is why military rule in Egypt will not ultimately prevail.

* Khalil al-Anani is a scholar at the School of Government and International Affairs at Durham University in the UK and a former visiting fellow at the Brookings Institute. He can be reached at: k.m.ibrahim@durham.ac.uk

Through a dark glass

Khalil al-Anani

Al-Ahram Weekly, 17 - 23 November 2011

The "Arab Spring" has failed to change the way we look at and think about ourselves, our societies and our socio-political conditions. Many Arab commentators and intellectuals remain captive to explanatory models and narratives that arose during the authoritarian period and that one hoped might fall with the downfall of the repressive dictatorships. But these models seem to have acquired the nature of absolute and indisputable truths. They have become myths that inhibit any rational discussion or critique of their basic presumptions. But once stripped of their various ideological and, sometimes, personal character, we find they lose any cogency.

This applies, most recently, to commentaries on the success of Ennahda Party in the Tunisian elections. Commentators were divided into those that expressed glee, rejoicing in this "second rise of Islamists" -- the first being the so-called "Islamic awakening" of the late 1970s and early 1980s -- and others who could react with nothing but dismay.

While the subject of this piece extends beyond events in Tunisia to investigate how Arab political and intellectual elite view Islamists in general, it is nevertheless important to underscore two points regarding the Tunisian case. First, by any objective measure, Ennahda's victory is far from extraordinary. Conversely, it was considerably less than had been anticipated in the course of the huge pre-election media build-up. Ennahda emerged from the polls with 40 per cent of seats in the Constitute Assembly, barely giving it a free hand to draw up Tunisia's new constitution or form a government independently. Sixty per cent of the Tunisian electorate, ie the majority, did not vote for Ennahda.

To reduce the recent elections in Tunisia to the convenient sound-bite of "Ennahda victory", excluding other important facets of the poll, from the extraordinary turnout and the fairness of the electoral process to the peaceful and civilised competition between diverse political forces, does a grave injustice to Tunisia's nascent democratic experience. It overlooks many encouraging aspects when it comes to establishing solid democracies in the Arab region.

The Tunisian experience was not just a preliminary test of the ability of the Tunisian people to build a democratic system, it was also an important test of our, the Arab intelligentsia, perceptions and presumptions towards the Islamist question. Ultimately, it cast into relief a number of prevalent myths that prevent us from dealing objectively with such complex phenomenon and that are more than mere ideological instruments for expressing our differences with it.

The first myth has to do with the concepts on which we build our perceptions and modes of awareness, beginning with the concept of "Islamist". Before the Arab Spring, we customarily placed in this category anyone who espoused an ideological political project based on perceptions of Islam. Whether consciously or not, we all used the term sweepingly, ignoring differences between the groups that fall under this label, some so essential they reach the point of ideological - even theological - antithesis, as is the case between the jihadists and the Muslim Brothers, the Salafis and Sufis, and the Shia and the Salafis. To make matters worse, the function of the term and its consequent implications shifted it from the analytical to the ideological realm, generating a chronic conflict between Islamists and non-Islamists. Such over generalisation is no longer tenable in the age of the Arab Spring, whereby all phenomena are changing rapidly, neither from an analytical nor moral standpoint.

The political and ideological rhetoric of Ennahda Party, the Muslim Brotherhood and the Moroccan Party of Justice and Development (PJD) cannot be squeezed into the same taxonomic box as the Salafist, Sufi or Shia parties. However much they stem from the same religious frame of reference there is an enormous gulf between them in terms of the exegetical instruments and visions that bring to bear in developing their understanding of this frame-of-reference. In addition, it would be objectively wrong to chalk these fundamental differences down to "tactics" or transient positions veiling political opportunism. Not only does this reflect the tendency to automatically imply double standards, it does an injustice to that portion of the Arab polity that is putting effort into understanding the nature of the considerable - and sometimes unimaginable -- differences between the term (Islamist) components

The second myth is that the Islamists have dominated, and still doing, the Arab public sphere. This is an ideological myth par excellence, the reflection of a conflict that is more socio-political than religious. The public space created by the now deposed regimes in Tunisia, Egypt and Libya was originally secularist. It began to be occupied by an Islamist tide only when the regimes themselves began to play religious one-upmanship, against the Islamists in order to establish their own "Islamic" credentials and strengthen their legitimacy, and in an attempt to pit one set of Islamists against another, as the Mubarak regime did with the Salafis and Muslim Brothers.

Of course, neither the regime nor the Islamists would use religion so flagrantly in the public space had they not been convinced the public would accept it, a fact that begs the ultimately ontological question: Why is religion so important to the average Arab citizen? Even to sketch an answer would exceed the space available here. The crucial point in this context, in any case, and the one that puts paid to the second myth, is that the public sphere that created the Arab revolution was not by any stretch of the imagination Islamist. It was a liberal, civil sphere, free from the burden of ideological frames-of- reference, religious or otherwise. This, in turn, means that the opportunity to sustain a liberal, civil public sphere still exists, although it is contingent upon the determination of its affiliates not to surrender to their Islamist rivals.

The third myth has to do with the relationship between the West and the Islamists. The fact that the substance of this myth has shifted from one antithesis to another is singular proof of its absurdity. At one time Arab intellectuals could not imagine the Islamists and the West finding any common ground. Since the Arab Spring they have not only begun to speak of dialogue between the two sides but have raised the spectre of a Western-Islamist "pact", all in the absence of any documented evidence.

The tendency not to see Islamist groups as social movements that affect and are affected by political forces and by the wider society leads to a fourth myth, which is that Islamists are religiously and ideologically static. The danger of this myth is not only that it inhibits an objective and realistic analysis of these movements but also hampers any perception of their constant transformations, inhibiting the possibility of any accurate prognosis on the future of the Islamist phenomenon as a whole. Did anyone imagine before the revolution that Egyptian Salafis would throw themselves into the political fray after having not only refrained from political involvement but denouncing it as heretical? Who would have thought that the Jihadists would form political parties and engage in the pubic sphere so openly? Did anyone anticipate that the Muslim Brotherhood, with its reputation of hierarchical rigidity and internal cohesion, would spawn four political parties in less than six months?

The fifth myth concerns the "historical imperative" of an Islamist hegemony, as well as its obverse. Those who espouse the former base their views not so much on the Islamists' determination and zealotry but on the more concrete observation that they are more tightly regimented and have broader grassroots organisations than their weak and fragmented opponents. Those who would argue for the flipside, that the Islamists are ultimately doomed to fail even if they do mange to win an election here or there, cite the experiences of Iran, Sudan, Afghanistan and Hamas. The critical flaw of the myth of historical inevitability, regardless of on which side its proponents fall, resides in the fact that it deals with the public as a uniform and naïve lump lacking any critical powers. What they forget is that this lump succeeded in overthrowing long-established and powerful authoritarian regimes.

* The writer is a Scholar at School of Government and International Affairs, Durham university. He can be reached at: k.m.ibrahim@durham.ac.uk