Never in recent history have
officials, commentators and even political activists spent so much time parsing
the meaning of a handful of words, notably “coup”, “revolution”, and “democratic
legitimacy.” The quality of
magical thinking inherent in much of the discussion is striking but nowhere
more so than when Western commentators whose clear and long-standing disdain
and derision for the now-deposed regime of Muhammad Morsi and Muslim Brothers
was abruptly transformed into equally dismissive assertions that unless an
elected leadership could remain in office until the end of its term in office
Egyptians had once again proved their lack of both ability and desire for
democracy.
Millions of people in the streets
demanding the Morsi resign was assimilated by many to mob rule and it was not
uncommon to hear that if equally large numbers later came out against his
successor then an unfortunate precedent was set in which the Armed Forces could
again act. Better, therefore, to
wait. In the world of thought
experiments performed by political philosophers it is completely correct. It was equally true proposed as a
counter-argument when Zakariya Abdel Aziz, former head of the Judges’ Club,
declared in late January 2011 that the masses of people in the street had
effectively abrogated the constitution. The idea, however, that millions of people are easily
roused to demonstrations and that, once so roused, they should be ignored seems
incompatible with the notion of democracy. The question then is not so much should the Armed Forces
have intervened but how should President Morsi have responded?
Much
recent foreign commentary presumes that, sufficiently chastised by the
commentator, the Egyptian people will come to their senses and pursue policies
that ensure the ultimate success of stable democratic development. This approach has not worked well in
the People’s Republics of Berkeley or Cambridge nor in the Duchy of the
Beltway; it is unlikely, with one exception, to have the least impact on
Egypt. The one exception, of
course, is if the outrage moves from the pages of the daily press to whatever
documents President Obama signs to name the recent events in Egypt a coup and
thereby deny military aid to the Egyptian Armed Forces and perhaps to delay or
deny its request for economic aid from the International Monetary Fund. This is unlikely because Obama possesses
a sharp sense of realism and rapidly scales back his policies to meet an
opposition well beyond the half-way point.
Having
moved for a second time to overthrow a head of state whose legitimacy was
unquestioned internationally while domestically challenged the Egyptian army
and General Sissi have taken a step from which there is no turning back. Whatever else happened when the 2012
constitution was put into place, it established in theory that President Morsi was not
only the head of state but also the supreme commander of the armed forces. The constitution tactfully avoided discussing who was in charge should the Supreme Commander (the president of the republic) and the Commander in Chief (the Defense Minister and a general) disagree. No longer. When Julius Caesar led the Thirteenth
Legion across the Rubicon he had committed a capital offence, as did the
soldiers who obeyed him. In
Republican Rome only elected officials could command armies on Italian soil;
thereafter only success mattered for there would be no other accounting. Whether General Sissi’s agreement with
President Morsi last fall was a tactical retreat or a real truce can, along
with the discussions of coups and legitimacy, be left to future
historians. Neither of Egypt’s two
living and deposed presidents can be allowed to return to power if those who
pulled them down have any hopes for their own futures.
The
army coup that forced former President Mubarak out of office had widespread
support and any who opposed it, the feloul (remnants of the old regime), were
too disorganized and politically weakened to return to power and exact
retribution from the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces. The coup that has forced President
Morsi out of office may have the support of a significant portion and perhaps
even a majority of the Egyptian population, but it has occurred in a very
different political environment.
Opponents, centered around the Muslim Brotherhood, however, are far from
disorganized even if they are momentarily bereft of much of their top
leadership. President Morsi’s
supporters believe they were stripped of legitimate authority and have every
right to regain it. The Muslim
Brotherhood would be ill-advised to trust the Armed Forces in their present
composition again with either their president or their political order and
those feelings of distrust have presumably been strengthened by the shooting
deaths of more than 50 people in front of the Rabi’a al-Adawiyah mosque. The precise sequence of events on the
morning of July 8 may elude us.
They are certainly relevant should anyone bring criminal charges and
they will also be relevant more generally for human rights advocates who will
correctly place responsibility on the government for its handling of
demonstrations. But such precision
will not be important as the competing narratives of the Egyptian revolution that
belong to different political camps continue to develop. There are, in these developing
narratives, no accidents and no bad decisions; there are only actors whose
actions reflect their inner moral motivations. I am not asking that we spare a tear for the Armed Forces
but only recognize what the generals themselves must recognize: there is no way back, no way to
compromise with ex-president Morsi and the Muslim Brotherhood. Certain dates mark irrevocable turning
points: February 25, 1954 when
Nasser ousted Naguib from the Revolutionary Command Council was one, February
11, 2011 was another and July 8, 2013 marks still another. The Armed Forces are a powerful
institutional presence in Egypt as are the courts, and the Muslim
Brothers.
Even if most Egyptians have never
studied political science, they do understand that their choices are already
limited by the available institutional options as well as by agendas set by
politically powerful, and frequently intransigent, actors.
Both
of Egypt’s two recent ex-presidents, faced with massive opposition in the
streets, seem to have taken pride that they could be described as stubborn; neither
seems to have thought, until the generals were at the door to usher them out,
that the time to craft a new way to govern had come and gone. And the partisans of both continue to
believe that although their preferred president had indeed made mistakes, he
did not deserve to be driven from office.
He had, after all, performed adequately and students who do passable
work do not deserve, at the end of the day, to be failed. Parenthetically I note that we hear
similar complaints from the Obama administration and its friends: American policy and US Ambassador to
Egypt Anne Patterson have made mistakes but it is not really their fault that
the policy has proven to be both unworkable and so profoundly misunderstood by
Egyptians as to have provoked their hostility.
It
is an open question whether it is possible, in the current circumstances, for
anyone to think clearly about Egyptian politics as anything other than a
morality play in which people are ultimately rewarded or punished for their
intentions and their actions by God, the dialectic of history, or the principle
of karma. There is also some
question about whether Western scholars whose reputations were centered on
claims about the essential political values of the objects of their research
can now look clearly at events that have (at best) cast profound doubt on their
conclusions. Just as an
earlier generation of American academics, in particular, were convinced that
the Armed Forces in Egypt were the agents of unfolding modernization so too
have their recent successors been certain that the Muslim Brothers, in a variety
of national guises, would be the agents of democracy and the destroyers of
authoritarianism.
There
is no particular reason for now to believe that the Egyptian Armed
Forces are the modernizers envisaged by American academics in the 1960s. Nor is there reason to believe that the
Muslim Brotherhood is the carrier of democratization through an Islamic state
as envisaged in the 1990s and early 2000s. Of course the governments after 1952, invariably led by Army
officers, pursued industrialization policies for strategic reasons. So, too, the Muslim Brotherhood
leadership pursued open elections for their own strategic reasons. Neither the Army nor the MB are or were
particularly committed to the wider principles that academics like to read into
these policy choices.
While
it may be that Husni Mubarak and Muhammad Morsi shared some psychological
features, it is equally likely that the structure of contemporary Egyptian
politics makes it easy for office holders to indulge their refusal, if not to
cooperate, at least to recognize the legitimacy as well as efficacy of their
political constraints. Both men,
faced with widespread and intense opposition, chose to resist rather than to
respond. Military hierarchy shaped Mubarak, the
last of three military officers to preside over republican Egypt. Over decades, his political base
narrowed and became increasingly fragile.
The civilian hierarchy of the Muslim Brotherhood shaped Morsi’s adult
political education and it took only months for his political base to narrow
and for wider and wider opposition to shatter it. In each case the armed forces stepped in forestalling
the failure of the state in the face of mass mobilization.
There
is no reason to believe that the underlying concerns and motivations of various
institutions and their leaderships have changed in the past few years but they
may, as have many Egyptians, learned that the politics of revolutionary
upheaval is an unforgiving environment.
I have never believed that the army generals particularly want to rule
Egypt on their own; what they do want is a political cohort that can provide
stability and sufficient economic growth to allow the maintenance of
stability. This the Muslim
Brothers proved to be incapable of providing. Whether this was due to their incompetence or to powerful
opposition was less relevant to the army than the simple fact of their failure
and the unexpectedly massive opposition.
Had the petition campaign
demanding Morsi’s resignation indeed been as inconsequential as it appeared to
the leaders of the MB (and most observers) when it began, there is no
particular reason to believe the Armed Forces would have moved.
Egyptian
society is increasingly polarized. Egyptians tell very different stories about the revolution until this point
and they see the events of the last week in completely different ways. Such disagreements about the moral
narrative of change are characteristic of revolution and they persist for
generations. In this sense Egypt as well as its army has crossed the Rubicon:
it will be a very long time before the Egyptian revolution is an object
of academic study rather than a source of emotionally resonant political allegiance. Much as I appreciate the call for dialogue between the competing camps, it will be a while before their discussions are anything other than the trading of irreconcilable and irascible monologues. Even today there is no rue Robespierre
in Paris and no Kerensky Street in Moscow.
Whether the two camps are equally
large is less important now than that they can no longer agree on a common
political project or political policies.
The two camps are not secular and religious nor are they political Islam
and moderates. They might, more
charitably, be called adherents of majoritarian revolution and revolutionary
pluralism. The MB is now a cadre
party dedicated to the conquest of power and the transformation of society in
accord with their vision. Because
similarly organized parties elsewhere and at other times were dedicated to
socialist utopias it is easy to dismiss the MB’s rhetoric of revolution as
pretension or smokescreen. But the
current leaders have their own vision of a just society as well as of the
mainsprings of political action; their understanding of politics has allowed
them to persevere and also, at moments, crucially to misunderstand what was
happening around them. Their
opponents, not united by much other than a distaste for the MB and (an
important point) a desire to create political structures in which
non-majoritarian parties can thrive, would prefer a plural political
order. They have been, at least in
the past few months, more realistically attuned to what is happening around
them. Thus, both the Salafi Nour
party and the Social Democratic party realistically understood how unpopular
Morsi had become and that the Armed Forces were no longer willing to wait. They agree about very little (if
anything) substantively but they have both been willing to participate in a
coalition to re-constitute a government and perhaps re-found the state.
At this point in Egypt’s political
and constitutional history it may be that stubbornness is not an admirable
quality in a president. This has
less to do with the personal characteristics of those who offer themselves up
for the office and more with the structures of power. Perhaps Egypt needs a president who is in reality (and not
merely formally) independent of the ruling party. Only such a president can change the prime minister or call
for new elections when millions of people take to the streets to protest its
policies. Egypt clearly needs some mechanism to recognize protests of such
magnitude and respond to them short of creating widespread social violence and
a constitutional crisis. The 2012
constitution was written to resolve the problems of the Mubarak regime in which
presidents could too easily dissolve parliament and subject governing parties
to their will. The MB was
determined to write a constitution in which a strong party could dominate both
the presidency and the legislature. Unfortunately it seems to have magnified the problems of the
new order. And much of the
confusion of outside commentators has come from their inability to see the
difference.