As an American Christian in Egypt I find that I instinctively view events here through the following lens: Liberals are the good guys, Islamists are the bad guys, and the army is somewhere in between, perhaps neutral, perhaps not. Complicated times beg for simplistic narratives, and this one suffices. Other groups maintain their favorites, but for most rooting interests become established, even if objectivity is sought. In crucial times such as these, witnessed in the recent clashes in Tahrir Square less than one week before scheduled legislative elections, complexity is overwhelming, and a lens is not only a false crutch, but a dangerous one. This text will aim to set the scene as honestly as possible, admitting its unfortunate bias from the beginning.
The lens is dangerous because so much is at stake, with interests colliding from numerous directions as lives fall in the process. Yet all lenses have criteria, and mine is this: Manipulation. No matter who is confined where in the ‘good guy – bad guy’ evaluation, a place is assigned by the degree to which self- or group interest is sought on less than transparent terms. All have a right to seek their interest, and politics in essence is a mutually accepted game of manipulation – none of this is rejected. What colors the lens is the favor or disfavor granted to a particular outcome of the process, even if legitimately won.
I stated my natural predisposition above; I set forth my conviction here: I am a foreigner in Egypt, and neither have nor seek a stake in the outcome of events. I wish the best for this country in accordance with the will of its people, and will honor both winners and losers of the current political struggle. What I hope is that the struggle will be transparent, and in this spirit, for the benefit of readers I will narrate events according to my best observation and judgment. Please remember that much is uncertain, and in the end, I have little idea where Egypt is headed. It is far too premature to label anyone good or bad.
The Basic Story
At his resignation following the protests beginning on January 25, President Mubārak ceded power to the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, headed by Field Marshall Tantāwī. Riding a wave of popular acclaim for their decision not to violently suppress the protests, the military council assumed legitimacy to head the democratic transition process as the only undamaged institution remaining in Egypt. This legitimacy was validated in a national referendum on March 19, endorsing the military transitional vision. It called for legislative elections to determine a parliament, whose members would choose a constituent body to write a new constitution. Following a referendum to approve the constitution, presidential elections would be held. The entire process envisioned the military returning authority to the people within six months.
Ten months later, the transitional process has been very uneven. The economy has faltered as the security vacuum has expanded. The military has stood accused of violating basic human rights, and sectarian attacks have afflicted Muslim-Christian relations. The military’s impartiality has been called into question vis-à-vis the other political powers, and a specter of ‘hidden hands’ has been blamed for many ongoing troubles. After much political wrangling, legislative elections have been set to take place in three stages, beginning November 28.
The Lead-Up
Roughly three weeks before elections, Deputy Prime Minister ‘Alī al-Salmī introduced a supra-constitutional document meant to bind the future constituent assembly in shaping the future constitution. This document resurrected a dispute from months earlier, which divided liberals and Islamists over the guarantees necessary to preserve Egypt as a civil state. Islamists are generally believed to be the dominant plurality, if not majority, following elections, and liberals feared they might write a constitution leading to an Islamic state. Islamists and others, meanwhile, decried the process as being ‘against the will of the people’, since the national referendum gave parliament alone the right to craft the constitution. The earlier crisis was averted through the intervention of the Azhar, the chief institution of Sunni Islamic learning, in which all sides pledged to preserve basic human rights in a civil state – in a non-binding document.
Al-Salmī, with elections looming, sought to gain binding approval. His document mirrored the Azhar’s, but included clauses that gave the military privileges to guarantee the constitutional nature of the state, as well as be exempted from legislative financial oversight. Furthermore, it imposed stipulations on the makeup of the constituent assembly to draft the constitution, drawing the majority of members away from legislative designation. It imposed a timeline to complete the draft, which if transgressed would reset the whole process through a new assembly chosen entirely by the military. Lastly, it ruled that if the final constitution violated any provision of the supra-constitutional document, it would be annulled.
All Islamists fumed at al-Salmī’s initiative, and though many liberals appreciated aspects of it, most balked at the privileges given to the military. Negotiations continued, with Islamists especially threatening massive protests if the document was not withdrawn. Though al-Salmī yielded by amending objectionable sections and removing its binding nature, the protest had gained too much momentum, and went forward anyway, on November 18, ten days before scheduled elections.
Friday, November 18
Principally organized by the Muslim Brotherhood and more conservative Salafi Muslim groups, the demonstration also witnessed substantial youthful revolutionary participation, including leftists and liberals, with some Copts as well. Most liberal political parties refrained, however, believing the protest to be threatening to public stability or just being too Islamist. Yet the turnout was massive, demanding not only the withdrawal of the al-Salmī document, but also a defined timetable for military transfer of power to civilians after presidential elections in April 2012. Many political forces threatened to turn the demonstration into an ongoing sit-in protest. By the end of the day, however, most organized parties, including the Muslim Brotherhood, withdrew by nightfall. A handful of Salafi and revolutionary groups camped out overnight in tents in the central Tahrir Square garden. Their numbers vary, but top estimates equal around a couple hundred.
The next morning security forces dispersed the remaining protestors, as they have done with lingering protestors previously. On this occasion, however, something triggered a wide response among the activist and revolutionary community. By afternoon, many began descending to Tahrir Square to protest at, and clash against, the violent dispersal. These were also met by force, and rapidly thereafter the numbers began to swell. By nightfall, Tahrir was re-occupied by several thousand.
Saturday – Monday, November 19-21
These thousands encamped in the square rather peacefully, but on a side street to Tahrir a pitched, violent struggle was taking place. While over a thousand people crowded into Muhammad Mahmūd St., several hundred engaged the police force with rocks and Molotov cocktails, while police responded with tear gas, rubber bullets, and alleged live ammunition. The street led eventually to the Ministry of Interior, though the battle was as of yet a ways removed. Hundreds of injured began to multiply, along with the death of one or two. These were scurried to makeshift field clinics hosted in various parts of the square. As the frontline protestors tired or fell injured, others would surge forward to take their place.
This scene continued almost nonstop for all of Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, not only in Cairo but also in Alexandria and multiple other cities of Egypt. Official figures now list thirty-five dead and 3,256 injured. Most of the dead are from Tahrir Square.
Inside the square was a different story. Numbers multiplied but did not fill it, and all remained peaceful. That is, until sunset on Sunday, when a joint police – army initiative stormed the square, violently dispersed thousands of protestors, and burned their tents and banners. Rather than securing the area and preventing further occupation, however, they withdrew after an hour, apparently content with destroying the sit-in preparations. As they pulled back, protestors returned, and even more descended following the operation.
Noteworthy is the makeup of the protesting crowd. Most were the leaderless masses resembling the initial January uprising – youthful, middle and lower class together, along with the oft-violent soccer hooligan bands. Yet it also included the prominent Salafi presidential candidate Hazem Abu Ismā‘īl , who called on his followers to join them. Though in January the Muslim Brotherhood participated in the uprising, Salafis did not, as their doctrine generally requires obedience to the ruling leader. In this case, the Brotherhood was making equivocal statements as per their participation, but eventually decided not to come, though some of their youth, especially, were undoubtedly there. Other Salafi groups distanced themselves, but Abu Ismā‘īl brought along with him a substantial religiously-oriented minority. It is not clear who made up those fighting on Muhammad Mahmūd St., but it appears they were both youth and hardcore activists.
All were chanting no longer about the al-Salmī document or a timetable for elections. Instead, it mirrored that of January: The people want the fall of the regime, or more specifically, the fall of the field marshal. Such chanting – as well as the fighting – went on all day Monday, and on Tuesday the demonstrators called for a million man march the next day.
During this period speculation became rampant that the solution to the crisis might lie in forming a national unity government. The possible presidential candidate Muhammad al-Barād‘ī has been advocating for months a reset button, in which a civilian presidential council would be formed, a constituent constitutional assembly, and following their work and a referendum, elections would be held for president and parliament based upon the new system. Yet only a day before the large Friday Islamist dominated protest Barād‘ī re-proposed his idea in the form of a national unity government. Then, on the night of the million man march he appeared on a popular satellite program to make his case to the nation.
He made it, however, with ‘Abd al-Mun‘im Abū al-Futūh, a Muslim Brotherhood member who was kicked out of the party when he declared his intentions to run for president, while the group insisted it would not field a candidate for the post. They spoke of their willingness to work together for the sake of the nation, a liberal and an Islamist, to guide the transition through. Meanwhile, the April 6 Movement, a key organizing figure for the ongoing protests, also issued a call for a national unity government, naming Hazem Abu Ismail, the Salafi, as another member, a prominent judge, and leaving a space for the military to add one from its ranks.
Media reports circulated meanwhile that the government of Prime Minister ‘Isām Sharaf was tendering its resignation, and that the military council was in deliberation over appointing Barād‘ī as the new head. All the while, the numbers of protestors increased, and the fighting continued in the side streets.
Tuesday, September 22
The day of the million man demonstration resembled the uprising in January. Every corner of Tahrir Square was full, and every segment of society was represented – men, women, and children. Only one party was absent – the Muslim Brotherhood. Earlier in the day Muhammad al-Biltājī, one of the leaders of their political arm, the Freedom and Justice Party, announced his support for the protestors against the brutality of the police, and visited the square. Frustrated with the Brotherhood reticence to come earlier, and perhaps also with the fact he arrived with a small group and not hundreds of supporters, the protestors kicked him out and sent him away. A short while later the Brotherhood announced it would not participate, preferring not to add to the instability of the situation, and compound traffic. Other figures stated they feared a trap from the army.
Such fear did not prevent the Brotherhood from joining other political parties from negotiating with the military council that day. They and other Islamist currents joined the liberal Wafd Party, a longstanding member of the faithful opposition to Mubārak’s National Democratic Party. Others joined in, but the liberal Free Egyptian Party boycotted until all violence stopped against protestors. The liberal Social Democratic Party, their election coalition partners did participate, but later issued a public apology for doing so, following the events of the next few hours. Oddly enough, this included the defection of two army officers into the crowd of protestors, shouting against Tantāwī, arguing that much of the military was against him. One was Captain Ahmad Shūmān, who joined demonstrators in Tahrir in January as well.
Around 7pm Field Marshal Tantāwī delivered a taped message addressing the nation, which has been generally handled by other officers. He painted a picture of the great efforts the military council has expended to bring about a democratic transition under difficult circumstance. He mentioned the faltering economy and differentiated between the army and the police. Then, to a degree, he offered the concessions.
Some minor ones were significant. He declared the investigations surrounding the deaths of protestors in Tahrir would be investigated by the general prosecutor, not the military. Additionally he transferred investigations surrounding the death of twenty-seven mostly Coptic protestors at Maspero, allegedly at the hand of the army, though some believe third-party thugs were involved. There has been much criticism that a case involving the military had received military jurisdiction.
As for the most substantial concession, he made it toward the political demonstration of Friday, not toward the mass popular demonstrations since then. He announced the military council would cede power following presidential elections no later than July 2012. He also announced the acceptance of the government’s resignation, but not until the formation of a new government, but made no mention of personnel or timetable. He did, however, declare the elections would be held according to their scheduled date, now only six days away.
Finally, he added a clever wrinkle. He stated the welcome of the military council to leave power immediately, if that was demonstrated as the will of the people through a referendum. As such, he widened the question beyond Tahrir Square to all of Egypt, where substantial support for the army remains.
As for Tahrir Square, it was furious. Protestors compared it to the first speech of Mubarak, offering meager concessions. They held up their shoes in protest. They chanted for the immediate transfer of power. They were confident the events of January were replaying themselves, and they smelled triumph. Soon they smelled something else.
All during Tantāwī’s speech the fighting raged on Muhammad Mahmūd St., including the constant use of tear gas. Veterans of this struggle against the regime have been subject to tear gas for months, but in these past few days they noticed it was of a stronger makeup. Some believed it to be CR gas, which is a banned chemical weapon in the US, as opposed to regular CS gas.
Those fighting in the side streets were pushed back near to Tahrir Square, and the tear gas began to fall on its periphery. Some said it was launched into the square itself. Others stated the gas now in the square was colorless – unlike the white plumes from the regular issue – and incapacitating. Rumors stated the people were under chemical attack, even coming up from the metro ducts, to drive them from the square to make it look like Tantāwī’s speech was convincing. Others stated it was only the waft from the side streets, yet recognizing how painful ordinary tear gas is. Barād‘ī, however, tweeted it was nerve gas, and Abū al-Futūh concurred some sort of gas dispersal effort was underway. Many left Tahrir, but it was clear that many thousands remained as well. Confusion reigned, and protestors vowed to continue their sit-in until their demands were met, yet fearful a military crackdown might come at any minute. As the night passed, it did not.
Wednesday, November 23
The next day violence continued on the side streets though Tahrir Square remained calm. Truces were brokered to end the fighting, with one effort secured through the intervention of Azhar sheikhs, after which hugs were exchanged and protestors even began cleaning up the street from debris. Yet after each period of peace violence would inevitably flare up again. ‘Who started it?’ is a question almost impossible to demonstrate, but most place the blame on the security forces. Though Tantāwī stated the police would be replaced by military personnel, this did not take place.
On Thursday the army itself intervened, separating protestors and police, and erecting a barrier between the two sides. The police were finally withdrawn and the military secured both this road and other side streets in the direction of the ministry of the interior. Furthermore a group of protestors, believed to be the youth of the Muslim Brotherhood, formed a human wall where Tahrir Square enters into Mohammed Mahmūd St., preventing passage from either direction. Salafis present in the protest also made sure to condemn the violence. Some stated they shared in the demands of Tahrir, but others insisted they were there only to protect the people.
Thursday, November 24
When calm prevailed I decided to visit the square myself. I went to the field hospital hosted by Qaṣr al-Dūbārah Church one street to the south of Tahrir Square. Rev. Fawzī Khalīl stated they had even treated three police officers, in addition to the dozens and dozens of injured protestors. Yet he verified the account of strange tear gas, and that it had been directly fired into Tahrir Square for thirty minutes straight following the address of Tantāwī. One of their own volunteers, Dr. Safa, had passed out while treating others.
Dr. Muhammad Minīsī had been a volunteer at one of the field hospitals within Tahrir Square itself, and as a general surgeon he handled the serious cases. He moved to the church, however, following the deliberate targeting of the hospital by security forces. Though basic clinics remained, all critical injuries were moved to places of worship, here or at ‘Umar Makram Mosque, as their safety was inviolable. He testified he had seen spent canisters of CR gas, as well as numerous cases of people convulsing and losing consciousness in repeated pattern over several hours. Though there had been no fighting at all that morning, I witnessed one patient still in the cycle of symptoms.
Before reading to leave two random events provided more context on events. First, a crowd of people came down the street in front of the church, chanting something. A thief had been caught in Tahrir Square. Apprehended by protestors, they beat him severely, and then brought him to the church for treatment, and safety. Not all were happy at his transfer, though, and some scaled the walls incensed at his delivery. These were calmed by the intervention of a Muslim sheikh who was on the premises, as well as others, and then went away.
Second, a young protestor stumbled into the clinic, fully conscious but bloodied from obvious blows to the head, which were bandaged. Able to interact, I asked if I might speak to him, wishing to discover why these youths were fighting so ferociously in the side streets. As the conversation ensued I learned he was Mājid al-Semnī, better known by his Twitter name @MagButter, and a member of the Alexandria chapter of the No to Military Trials organization. He was not a fighter, but was on the side streets none the less.
He was with fellow renowned Twitter activist Mūna el-Tahāwī, who he had only met personally that day. They wished to see the side streets where fighting took place, but were blocked by the human wall. Instead they went to see Bab al-Lūq Square, where other fighting occurred nearby. After moving in the direction of Muhammad Mahmūd St., they were noticed and fired upon. Bystanders in civilian clothes motioned to a safe place to hide out, but then were beaten there, Mūna was sexually harassed, and both were turned over to the police. Al-Semnī was transferred to Tora Prison, had his cell phone stolen, spent the night with other detainees, and then released in the morning. He had worked his way back to Tahrir Square, and sought medical attention in the church clinic. Mūna was later released as well, and described the assault upon her in great detail, for which the military later apologized.
The rest of the square was in waiting mode. Friday was the call for another million-man demonstration, and though there were several thousand people milling about, it was quite easy to navigate. Some were cleaning up trash, others were handing out surgical masks for tear gas defense. I sat with a few Islamist-looking youths due to their long, scraggly beards, and asked their opinion. They were elusive about which religious or political strands they belonged to, emphasizing instead the unity of Islam. Yet one asked why America continued to incarcerate ‘Umar ‘Abd al-Rahmān, convicted for inciting the 1993 World Trade Center terrorist attacks, when he was clearly innocent. Another lauded the youth of Tahrir as akin to the youth of the early Islamic conquests, in whom religious strength resides. They were with the protest 100%, wishing to see the military council give up its power immediately. Yet they would vote in elections for anyone who promoted the good of Egypt – Islamist, socialist, or liberal – and celebrated that ‘the street’ was there with them. They believed the majority of these demonstrators wished Islamic rule. From appearances, though appearances can be deceiving, I disagreed. So did Rev. Khalil, who estimated 90% of protestors were in favor of a civil, non-religious state, however important Islam is to them as a faith.
Friday, November 25
On Friday Tahrir Square was filled as expected. There was no violence, but political wrangling began in earnest. The military council appointed Kamāl Janzūrī (name commonly spelled as Ganzouri) as the new prime minister, bequeathing him with full powers to form a national salvation government, in accordance with the spoken will of the demonstrators. Though he had been a popular minister in the 1990s for his dealings with the poor and the opposition, the square rejected him out of hand. Not only was he 78 years old and been a close associate of Mubārak, the protestors had their own desires for a national salvation government. They selected a representative who presented what was described as the will of the square, to name Barād‘ī as prime minister. They asked that fellow presidential candidates Abū al-Futūh and Hamdīn Sabāhī, a Nasserist, be his deputies, and also named a prominent economic journalist and reform minded judge to complete the council.
Friday witnessed two other competing protests, and then one more that developed following the political impasse. The International Union for Muslim Scholars called for a demonstration in support of al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem, and the Muslim Brotherhood backed it. Only a handful of people attended that gathering at the Azhar Mosque. Azhar officials, meanwhile, backed the Tahrir protest, and a deputy of the Grand Sheikh spoke during Friday prayers.
The other protest was organized by supporters of the military council, and drew several thousand people. They lauded the efforts of their leaders during difficult times, and opposed the disruption at Tahrir Square. There were fears the two groups might march one toward the other, but each stayed put without confrontation.
That statement is not entirely true. A few hundred demonstrators in Tahrir Square departed and readied for a confrontation – not toward the counter-protest, but toward the prime ministry. They marched several blocks and occupied the space in front of its offices, to deny the now-appointed Janzūrī the ability to enter the building and begin his work. A standoff in is in the works, and rival governments are on the horizon. Though neither Barād‘ī nor the others have accepted any official designation, the political situation is tumultuous, with clear endgame in sight. Meanwhile, elections were only three days away, now extended to two days per round.
Conclusion
There is much in Egypt currently that does not make sense, which opens wide the public discourse for all manner of conspiracies. Were these crowds manipulated into massive demonstrations? If so, by whom, and why? Does the military wish to sabotage elections to stay in power? Has the military struck agreement with Islamists to deliver them an electoral victory? Has the military struck agreement with liberal forces to discredit the otherwise democratic Muslim Brotherhood? Are the protesters minority revolutionaries now seeking power by pressure since they will not win elections? Are the protesters Islamists who fear their popularity might not deliver a clear victory in elections, so they are seeking an alternate route? Aspects of the above narrative can be marshaled to evidence any one of these theories.
Or, are the events just happening? Do they represent genuine anger between protestors and the police force? Do they represent political forces trying to position themselves in light of circumstances? Do they represent the military council seeking balance for the best national outcome, if through soldierly tactics or otherwise? Much is at stake in Egypt, and many wish to grasp at power. Could events simply be the conflation of mutually antagonistic strivings for self-interest, mixed with miscalculations, mistakes, and failures in dialogue?
These questions figure prominently in determination of the original question: Good guys, bad guys, and rooting interests. If all have manipulated, are they all disqualified? Or has the manipulation been within acceptable grounds of politics? Or, if one’s rooting interest is strong, have the ends of a favored party justified their means? Yet as of this writing over thirty people have died, and there is little justification for this, however blame is distributed.
Perhaps events will only be understood in retrospect, or perhaps they never will. Egyptians especially have the responsibility to gauge actions, weigh motivations, and cast their lot with one side or the other. They must do so with partial information and political biases. Through either cooperation or competition their divergent interests will come together in a decision, with winners, losers, or degrees of the same. Yet if one or more parties are manipulated out of the game entirely, they risk all becoming losers. In times of revolution, excluded parties may choose to fight, and fight violently.
I hope for peaceful solutions. I hope for transparency. I hope for an outcome pleasing to the national will, for the good of Egypt. There need not be good guys or bad guys, only sons and daughters of the nation. If there are bad guys, may they be exposed; if there are good guys, may they be successful. Yet may all be honored, and may all see the triumph of their nation, forged anew in this historic time.
Jayson Casper also blogs regularly at A Sense of Belonging. Follow him on Twitter at @jnjcasper.
