Subterfuge and State TV

On 9 October, State TV reported that a march of Coptic activists had attacked members of the military, killing three. The allegations inflamed an already tense situation. It has since been revealed that the army fired on the protestors, not the other way round. In an embarrassing u-turn, the Egyptian authorities were forced to admit that there were no military deaths that night. However, the version of events implicating Coptic activists as the catalyst for violence gained widespread traction, even being picked up by the international media. The fall-out from the night’s events has yet to run its course, but State TV’s divisive sectarian narrative has soured relations between sections of Egypt’s Muslim and Coptic communicates.

November 19: plus ça change

The ongoing clashes in Cairo have been subject to the same narrative shift. Despite widespread video evidence that show security services firing on demonstrators, State TV has framed the violence that has left 28 dead and over 1700 injured as an attack on both the nation and the Revolution. In a statement broadcast on the channel an official from the Ministry of the Interior attributed the violence to those who wish to delay the elections. State-run media has continually framed events within a nationalistic framework that is then used to discredit opponents.

The latest target of such accusations has been the ‘foreign hands’ of external actors. On November 22, State TV has shown footage of three men, alleged to be American students, alongside what are said to be petrol bombs. The validity of these claims matters less than their symbolic power. The images themselves represent an emotive substantiation of previous media claims regarding the desire of foreign powers to subvert the country’s revolution. Such fears have also been invoked by the Supreme Council of Armed Forces (SCAF) to delegitimize a host of opponents. NGOs, particularly those involved in democracy promotion, have consistently faced allegations of foreign funding, and legislation is being drafted to clampdown on organisations that receive donations from abroad.

Power structures remain

It is difficult to identify the origins of State TV’s editorial policy. It may be linked to orders from the military, alternatively it is not implausible that editors are mimicking the well-worn strategy of reporting in a tone that suits the aims of a higher power. Previously it was Hosni Mubarak; now it is Field Marshall Tantawi. Despite the seismic changes that have taken place in Egypt since January, power structures remain largely the same and it is easy to imagine that old habits die hard in a state-run media eager to ingratiate itself during a period of uncertainty. As a recent Chatham House workshop found, Egypt’s media is accustomed to working under strict rules, wary of criticising the nation’s rulers and referring editorial decisions to the very top as part of standard practice. This legacy is clearly proving difficult to escape in the post-Mubarak era.

In locating Egypt’s problems outside the nation itself and exhorting viewers to support the army, State TV casts a veil over what should be a transparent transition of power. Even if the military is not determining editorial policy, its aims – to avoid scrutiny and keep its political and economic power-base intact – are certainly being protected to the detriment of the democratic process. So long as State TV is allowed to continue broadcasting, it is hard to see how the SCAF can credibly claim to be overseeing a transparent or honest transition of power.

Egypt’s Black Sunday

The spectre of sectarianism is haunting Egypt, and last night it showed its bloody face. An attack on a demonstration led by Coptic Christians culminated in the worst night of violence since the fall of Hosni Mubarak, propelling questions of religious divisions onto the frontpages.

Conspiracy theories abound and the facts are still hard to discern. This much we know: as it stands, 25 have died and a further 200+ are injured. But disagreements arise regarding the extent to which the violence was purely sectarian, or whether it was manipulated – or even orchestrated – by the military. State media has been intent on emphasising the former dynamic, exhorting its audience to come out and defend the army against their (Christian) attackers. On the other hand, anecdotal and video evidence suggests that the latter scenario is more plausible. This clip, for example, seems to show army vehicles mowing down protesters, suggesting that elements of the military were in fact responsible some of the night’s fatal attacks. In addition, the state media’s initial claims regarding the deaths of several soldiers at the hands of the demonstraters have yet to be substantiated. If such allegations turn out to be false, this would suggest a degree of hithero unseen manipulation on the part of the military with state media as its messenger.

A number of excellent pieces have emerged online today. I hope the following will be useful in gaining a better understanding of what happened last night:

Context:

Yasmine El Rashidi ‘Egypt: Why Are the Churches Burning?’ (from May this year)

What is clear is that a confluence of forces—an army seeking the opportunity to consolidate power, remnants of a regime stirring havoc, a cabinet with little authority of its own, radical Islamists aspiring to an Islamic State, and deep-rooted currents of social intolerance that Egypt has long failed to confront—have created a situation in which the Copts, among other groups, have become particularly vulnerable.

Interview with Paul Sedra on AJE:

Very little of the latest violence is purely sectarian [...] it’s more appropriate to view the attacks that you saw today as a threat to Egyptian democracy emerging, as a threat to the free Egyptian public discourse that we hoped to see emerge after the Revolution.’

The Guardian’s Jack Shenker offers a more immediate contextualisation on the backdrop to the clashes:

Bloodshed will capture the headlines, but the quieter moves by Egypt’s military rulers and the plainclothes thugs whose motives increasingly appear inseparable from the army elite are also worth mentioning: the rapid shutting down of a television station that had been broadcasting live footage of the mayhem; the earlier announcement that military tribunals for civilians would remain operational in certain circumstances (despite a public outcry against them); a violent assault on a university strike in Alexandria; and the ongoing tussle over electoral law, which some political forces believe is designed to kill off genuine moves towards democracy.

Eyewitness accounts/reporting:

Al Masry Al Youm has published a chilling account of last night’s events, witnessed by Sarah Carr:

‘Two armored personnel carriers (APCs) began driving at frightening speed through protesters, who threw themselves out of its path. A soldier on top of each vehicle manned a gun, and spun it wildly, apparently shooting at random although the screams made it difficult to discern exactly where the sound of gunfire was coming from.’

Issandr El Amrani with some early thoughts:

Most worrisome of all because, taken altogether, this paints a picture of the Egyptian military as resorting to sectarian impulses almost reflexively. It is the flipside of its continued unwillingness, after the sectarian clashes (between civilians as well as between police, military and civilians once fighting had already broken out) of earlier this year, to end once and for all the official discrimination that Copts face when building, expanding or renovating places of worship.

EIPR’s Hossam Baghat on what made ast night’s violence stand apart from previous attacks on Copts:

This is a tragedy of state failure [...] something was broken yesterday and it may have been fatal. Our organisation has been documenting sectarian violence for 10 years now – there is nothing like what we saw yesterday precisely because it’s the army. It’s the first time that the Copts are not being attacked by muslim extremists, they were attacked by the army. There is a certain sense of estrangement and anger that will take a long time to process.’

Joseph Mayton on the role of state media in heightening tensions:

In essence, what they were telling Egyptians was to attack and murder fellow citizens. They also reported that military personnel were killed in the violence that erupted on Sunday. This was the image they painted, and which international media outlets picked up quickly and ran with. It was shocking display of poor judgement. Did the international media not learn anything from the 18 days of protests that ousted former President Hosni Mubarak?

Passing the Emergency Law

As has become a regular occurrence, today saw throngs of Egyptian activists gathering in Tahrir Square. The focus of their anger this time was the SCAF’s reactivation of the Emergency Law. Although numbers were smaller than expected – perhaps reflecting a degree of protest ‘fatigue’, or maybe anger at previous tactics that resulted in the storming of the Israeli Embassy – today’s demonstration deserves attention.

In place almost constantly in Egypt since the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, the Emergency Law famously allowed Mubarak to suspend the basic rights of individuals, prohibiting demonstrations, censoring newspapers, and detaining people indefinitely without charge. The suspension of the Emergency Law has been among the April 6th Movement’s key demands. On this week’s evidence, they are unlikely to achieve it anytime soon.

Under Mubarak, the Emergency Law’s usage had to be approved by the Egyptian parliament.  In many political systems, the decision to renew laws granting the executive extraordinary powers to detain citizens, prevent private gatherings, and issue decrees, would have been the subject of extensive deliberations. In the Egyptian case, the ratification was simply a familiar ritual that passed with little controversy reflecting the impotence of a parliament beholden to the regime.

All this begs the question: how much better is the SCAF’s unilateral decision to reaffirm the Law? As with the justifications of the Mubarak era, the rationale presented this week is problematic. For example, many of its specific provisions for maintaining order — such as carjacking or drug-dealing — are already criminalised under the normal penal code. Although the previous process by which the Emergency Law passed was undoubtedly deeply flawed, once could argue that it at least came under greater scrutiny than is the case in the current state of affairs.

It is of course flippant to argue that the Mubarak era was better than life under the SCAF. But this week’s development is a stark reminder that there may be a degree of truth in accusations that the military council is little better than its ageing predecessor.

–

Edit: As one contributor has pointed out, the reasons for mistrust of the Emergency Law have differed. When Mubarak was in charge, the Law represented a veil of unaccountability which obscured the disappearance of thousands. Under the SCAF it has been used in a more targeted manner against activists who seek to rock the boat. In this context it has also become particularly controversial due to its role in legitimising military trials for civilian detainees. Over the past 6 months, 12,000 have been imprisoned through these courts, a staggering number compared to the 2,000 sentenced by the same means during Mubarak’s 30-year rule.

Libya, Egypt and the War on Terror

Human Rights Watch have tonight announced the discovery of correspondence between the Gaddafi regime and British and American intelligence agencies. The papers suggest close cooperation within the context of the War on Terror. Not only did this involve sharing the details of Libyan dissidents, but it also included a programme of extraordinary rendition for suspected militants.

Whilst the documents have yet to be independently verified, the allegations are not without precent. Despite a variable diplomatic relationship throughout the 1980s and 1990s, the British and American relationship with neighbouring Egypt also took on an alarming dimension after 2001. The Egyptian military’s annual $1.3 billion package of US military aid has been well documented. What has received less attention is the possible reasons for its existence beyond cooperation in the Arab-Israeli peace process.

Since Egypt was a key destination for US extraordinary rendition programmes, the military are alleged to have overseen the torture of terrorism suspects in line with US wishes. Whilst there is little to suggest that the US issued direct instructions to this effect, a growing body of evidence backs claims that such a relationship existed in an informal, often implicit, capacity . According to Jane Mayer , ‘the partnership between the American and Egyptian intelligence services was extraordinarily close: the Americans could give the Egyptian interrogators questions they wanted put to the detainees in the morning,and get answers by the evening.’ This could explain American hesitance to condemn publicly Mubarak’s repeated renewal of the draconian Emergency Law. This legislation permitted the suspension of basic rights, prohibited demonstrations, censorship of newspapers, and the indefinite detention without charge.

Given the nature of the unspoken agreement between US and Egyptian officials, the Emergency Law provided the exact veil of unaccountability that American counterterrorism policy required. Since this state of affairs was mutually beneficial, the regime had little reason to consider bringing it to an end. Indeed, one could argue that the Law was kept in part because of the direct assistance it gave to the US.

Egypt’s relationship with MI6 and the CIA was of course been defined by different concerns to those applicable in Libya. However, it would be highly surprising if British and American concerns related to the War on Terror led them to pursue a very different course of action with regards to cooperation on intelligence matters.

All eyes on Aden

As the optimism of the Arab Spring fades, Yemen’s struggle against autocracy continues. Unlike in Tunisia and Egypt, the departure of the country’s President, Ali Abdullah Saleh, has not heralded the beginning of a new era. Instead, it has deepened a dangerous political stalemate.

Yesterday, that stalemate grew ever more tenuous as a car bomb killed 8 government soldiers and wounded 18 in Aden. Whilst media attention focuses on Sana’a and Abyan, the situation in this southern port city grows worse by the day. This week alone has seen violent clashes between (as yet unidentified) groups, a mounting humanitarian crisis, and the killing of a British shipping surveyor.

With the de facto devolution of authority that has occurred over 6 months of protest, Aden is becoming a bastion of anti-regime sentiment. As reported over at Foreign Policy, government forces have retreated altogether, leaving the Al-Hirak secessionist movement to come out of the shadows and operate openly. Unlike the capital, Sana’a, where anti-government banners are found only near the University, Aden is emblazoned with anti-government graffiti on walls and shops and even across the high security walls of now empty government buildings.

Bids for secession are far from new. North and South Yemen were only unified in 1990 and the country still bears the scars of a difficult merging process. Responding to new grievances, the most recent secessionist movement – Al-Hirak – has been gathering pace since 2007: responding to new grievances, rather than reviving old ones, its demands have tended to be framed in the language of equality. Despite using the language of unification, President Saleh’s actions have spoken louder than words as he consistently prioritised the development of the north. As southern poverty deepened and perceptions of political exclusion sharpened, the country’s difficult unification came to be more openly questioned. The sense of injustice was exacerbated by the prioritisation of US-funded development projects in the north, fueling a narrative of suffering and marginalisation.  This legacy of social injustice has come to play an important role during the Arab Spring, with Aden becoming an important site of confrontation outside Sana’a. The entire road in Mu’alla – the city’s largest district – remains blocked off by anti-regime protesters, an act that has perhaps been tacitly encouraged by the regime as it has withdrawn its forces from the city.

As news of today’s car bombing continues to trickle out, a regime spokesman has suggested the culprits are likely to be Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula (AQAP). Whilst it is far too early to judge, analysts remain skeptical. The army’s strategy in Aden – withdrawing and allowing unrest to increase, then blaming AQAP for its provenance – seems remarkably similar to that used in Abyan last month. The Aden of today is certainly a far cry from the Aden of 6 months ago. Then, armoured vehicles roamed the streets, tightly controlling the security situation as the city hosted the Gulf 20, a regional soccer championship.

The increasing strength of anti-regime protests in Aden, combined with the prominence of Al-Hirak’s secessionist rhetoric, has led experts to raise the prospect of a successful break from the north. Whatever the likely outcome, yesterday’s escalation in violence remains particularly worrying. All eyes should be on Aden in the coming weeks.

Drone strikes: the human cost

The efficacy of American drone strikes in Yemen has been well-explored in recent weeks. With those on both sides of the argument offering their own comprehensive analyses, I’d recommend a look at Frank Cilluffo and Clinton Watts’ report, “Yemen & Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula: Exploiting a Window of Counterterrorism Opportunity“, as well as Gregory Johnsen’s excellent response over at Waq al-Waq.

Whilst the strike programme was initiated during President Bush’s time in office, it has found real favour under the Obama administration. As Leonie Northedge points out, it is often justified by the ‘success’ of similar tactics in Pakistan. There, the CIA runs a secret programme to assassinate al-Qaida and Taliban members seeking refuge in the remote Waziristan province. According to the New America Foundation, at least 118 attacks took place there in 2010, a figure almost four times higher than that for 2008.

And yet claims of success in the Pakistani context mask a bloody reality that few policymakers acknowledge. The Guardian ran an excellent piece this week on the human cost of Waziristan’s drone strikes. Following the experiences of Noor Behram, a photographer who documents the civilian casualties, it makes for sobering reading:

“Noor Behram says his painstaking work has uncovered an important – and unreported – truth about the US drone campaign in Pakistan’s tribal region: that far more civilians are being injured or dying than the Americans and Pakistanis admit [...] For every 10 to 15 people killed, maybe they get one militant,” he said. “I don’t go to count how many Taliban are killed. I go to count how many children, women, innocent people, are killed.”

Behram’s testimony is complemented by a growing body of anecdotal evidence suggesting the human cost of drone strikes far exceeds current estimates. In Yemen too, the impact on civilians has not gone unoticed. Reports of targeted attacks are regularly followed by the stories of those who become collateral damage.

As Will Picard points out, the efficacy of drone strikes was not up for debate – publicly, at least – in Tuesday’s Senate hearing on US policy in Yemen. Those testifying were drawn from the State Department or Washington-based think tanks. Military and intelligence officials were notably absent. Of course, there are undoubtedly a number of reasons for this, not least the desire to maintain operational secrecy. However, as Picard argues, the hearing effectively put US diplomacy and aid on trial at the expense of scrutiny over the drone programme:

At a time when the Congress is looking for programs to cut, and politicians are looking to score points ahead of elections, this discrepancy is particularly noteworthy. The Obama administration loves drones and special ops (as does much of the public), and Congress is much more willing to fund military projects than diplomatic ones. A hearing like this one, in which senators challenged witnesses to prove the effectiveness of “soft” assistance to Yemen, could certainly aid in explaining the prioritization of the kinetic approach to America’s problems in Yemen, while still maintaining the fiction that this country cares about the plight of the Yemeni people.

Whilst diplomatic efforts suggest concern for the Yemeni people, the military approach suggests quite the opposite. This cognitive dissonance deserves far more scrutiny than it is currently attracting. In the battle for hearts and minds, this is not a choice, but a necessity.

Just how ready are the Muslim Brotherhood?

“The Brotherhood is clearly ready for elections now – it’s been ready for 10 years – whereas the newer secular parties who could not participate in the political process under Mubarak are not.

The above quotation from journalist Ashraf Khalil encapsulates the prevailing wisdom regarding the likely outcome of early elections in Egypt. Although on some levels, Khalil is clearly correct, pronouncements such as this reveal just as much about the beliefs and assumptions of the speaker as about the reality of the situation.

On the one hand, the past 3 decades have certainly left the Brotherhood in a better position than fledgeling liberal parties to contest elections. During the Mubarak era, it was the only political grouping able to maintain a consistently high level of organisaional capacity. In 2005, for example, it delivered 88 ‘independent’ candidates to parliament, becoming by far the largest opposition bloc in the legislature. Over the years, its leadership has amassed a greater deal of institutional knowledge than the upper echelons of other parties, especially those in the diverse ‘youth movement’ that is still finding its feet in the political realities of the new Egypt.

However, I can’t help but feel that supporters of the ‘constitution first’ (discussed in my last post) campaign are overstating the strength of the Brotherhood and other Islamist organisations.

Cohesion of the Muslim Brotherhood

During Mubarak’s rule, the Muslim Brotherhood were indeed the largest opposition grouping. Yet they have never been a legal political party. This technicality has had implications for the strategies its membership had to adopt in order to win votes, seeking specific ways to engage with voters in each locale.

The Brotherhood has not been an internally cohesive organisation for decades. Over the years, its programme has been dynamic and reactive, adapting to political developments both in Egypt and abroad. This strategy of adopting a relatively fluid position was successful in building support but it also pushed the organisation along the road to an identity crisis. As Maha Abdulrahman argued back in February, the early days of the revolution only hastened this moment of reckoning. In casting the membership net wider, their ability to harness specific political grievances had grown narrower:

Its constituency has grown beyond its leaders expectations – ‘grown’ not in the sense of size but in the sense of variety. The MB’s base is not homogeneous, including workers, students, many in the upwardly mobile middle-class, etc. As such the leadership cannot now convincingly claim to represent its own constituency.

Under Mubarak, the Brotherhood’s internal ideological fissures were – to the outside, at least – relatively contained. Since his departure, the pressure that pushed its diverse membership together has faded, bringing internal disputes to the fore.

Generational rifts

In addition, the formation of the Freedom and Justice Party – the legal incarnation of the Brotherhood’s political aspirations – has exposed intergenerational rifts within the organisation. Divergent ideas from younger members regarding ideology, tactics and internal structure have been met with relative intransigence from the Brotherhood’s upper echelons, unused to such challenges.

These fault lines became even more apparent on Tuesday when a group of young Brotherhood members announced the formation of a separate political party . The establishment of Hizb Al-Tayyar Al-Masry (Egyptian Current Party) represents an act of defiance that could well deepen the generational split.

The more active organisational role undertaken by some of the younger members has highlighted the potential for new political approaches. A good example can be found in the Egyptian Current Party’s manifesto, according to al-Masry al-Youm:

Unlike most other Islamist parties, [its] manifesto does not mention Islamic sharia as its frame of reference; it only refers to the Arab Islamic civilization. “We cannot refer to the Islamic sharia because this is not an Islamist party, and it is not a party for the Muslim Brotherhood youth,” said Mohamed Shams, a 24-year-old co-founder of the party. “Not all founders belong to the Muslim Brotherhood.”

Whilst the ECP’s approach cannot be taken to represent the preferences of a diverse Islamist movement, the above quotation does illustrate the spectrum of political positioning to be found among the ranks (or former ranks) of the Muslim Brotherhood. Far from being the behmouth that some ‘constitution first’ advocates would have it believed to be, the organisation is also encountering its own set of obstacles in the wake of the Revolution. Just because the Brotherhood is home to a greater concentration of institutional knowledge doesn’t mean it isn’t struggling.

The sentiments of the new public sphere

For the first time in decades, Egypt’s public sphere is charactarised by a process of genuine political contestation. In this environment, we should not fall into the trap of believing that those arguments that fit with our own sensibilities are necessarily neutral. Yes, most ‘consitution first’ proponents genuinely believe that immediate elections would be unfair to those parties that have not yet had time to organise. But on the other hand, the people on this side of the argument also have their own views on who should win the at the ballot box, and if they’re arguing for postponement, it’s unlikely that this is the Brotherhood. In overstating the strength of the Islamist parties which, as I have argued, are also struggling organisationally, then these assumptions should not go unquestioned.

Transitional Politics in Egypt

The news that over 7,000 Egyptians have been tried in military courts since February raises important questions about the legitimacy of political authority in a post-Mubarak Egypt. Highly pertinent, such issues lie at the very heart of the debate surrounding the future of the political system. 4 months on, the legacy of the revolution remains in flux and the coming weeks will be crucial in determining whether we come to see those 18 days as a catalyst for genuine political change, or as the start of yet another elite-managed transfer of power.

A brief appraisal of their governing record so far may prove instructive here.

Although their narrative has been one of maintaining stability, the SCAF’s public posturing belies its own inaction. For example, their record on economic prosperity – one commonly cited reason for the ‘necessity’ of their rule – remains poor. For a start, unemployment continues to rise: some estimates suggest about 800,000 people have lost their jobs in the past three months. Furthermore, the SCAF’s attempts to mitigate the economic decline remains inadequate. The deployment of foreign currency reserves in order to prop up the Egyptian pound has only served to rapidly deplete those reserves with little success to show for it. If this trend accelerates, experts predict that Egypt could be left with almost no hard currency reserves by the end of the year. One likely consequence would then be market speculation and sales of pound-denominated holdings, plausibly leading to a currency collapse, and yet more economic and political turmoil.

Instead, it seems that the best chance for economic stability – an outcome that many crave – will come with the reform that (one hopes) will finally be enacted by the next government. As Jane Kinninmont points out, Egypt’s current economic problems have their roots in a deeper political malaise that requires institutional solutions. But how and when will the transition of power take place? The debate over when to hold elections continues to rage among the activist community. Although still a minority opinion among the wider population, the line of thought that prioritises constitutional reform over an immediate transfer of power seems to be gaining traction. However, this does raise questions as to who would determine the structure and contents of a new constitution. If the SCAF are not viewed as the legitimate authority to do so, then what is to say than another interim body would be?

Another common justification for a postponement of the elections relates to the strength of Egypt’s political parties. At present, it is believed that Islamist parties would be the largest beneficiaries of early elections. As the only political organisations that were able to operate in the Mubarak era – albeit under the constraints of sporadic and often immense repression – they remain best equipped to rally support at the ballot box. However, as Marc Lynch points out, this is not necessarily a bad thing.

The role of the Muslim Brotherhood in the ranks of Tahrir points to one of the greatest and most sharply contested legacies of the revolution: Who can legitimately claim to speak for the revolution? The loose coalition of youth activists and liberal politicians warn loudly that the Islamists might “hijack” the revolution. But the Muslim Brotherhood youth were in Tahrir as well, fighting hard. So were a wide coalition of workers, ordinary people, and the “Ultras” which have been receiving a bit of attention of late. Indeed, that diversity is precisely what made Tahrir so amazing. But if the Brothers were a key part of the assembled forces on Tahrir, then why do they not have equal claim on its legacy? Why should prominent and media-savvy young activists have a greater claim than the labor union leaders and ordinary people whose participation in the uprising helped it succeed where a decade of internet-led activism had mostly failed?

The success of the sort of representative democracy that western observers encourage did not occur over night. Rather than springing to life fully constituted, it emerged over centuries of political conflict and contestation. To manipulate the electoral process into favouring one particular strain of thought would seem reminiscent of the political stage-management for which both Mubarak and the SCAF have been criticised. Furthermore, arguments that justify postponement on this basis are rooted in the problematic assumption that democracy should only be measured by its substantive outcome. In a recent article,  Jillian Schwedler, Stacey Philbrick Yadav and Joshua Stacher offered an excellent deconstruction of this position:

Most people currently enjoying such choices elsewhere in the world would probably not agree that this is what is important about democracy, if it were put to them so starkly. Why do we herald choice when it comes to market practices, but evaluate outcomes when it comes to (other people’s) politics? The answer is the Islamists.

But as Issandr El Amrani argues, the postponement of elections could be used for more fruitful purposes. The extra time could, for example, see the authorities working towards the establishment of a more transparent electoral process:

Egypt’s referendum was held under a system in which it was impossible to ensure that people did not vote twice — staining thumbs with ink simply is not enough. Not enough is being done in both countries to ensure the electoral procedures are beyond reproach, and in Egypt there is too little consultation and transparency on the forthcoming electoral law. The governments of Egypt and Tunisia should be spending much of its time to make sure Egypt has the cleanest, most irreproachable election in its history.

For me, this remains the most compelling argument for any delay. A more transparent process would enhance the victors’ claim to legitimacy, ensuring the possibility of the sort of political stability that so many crave. It is this – and not the supposed steady hand of the SCAF – that will ultimately provide best chance for economic recovery. Not only are investors less likely to be deterred by the political uncertainty of a post-Mubarak Egypt, but the new government would have a more certain set of foundations upon which to build a new economic strategy. If elections are to be postponed, it should be for this reason, rather than out of ideological fears regarding the beneficiaries of an earlier polling day.

A cautionary note on the Arab Spring

As the Arab Spring becomes the Arab Summer, talk of a ‘domino effect’ has all but disappeared. Rather than suffering the same fate as Mubarak and Ben Ali, embattled autocrats are learning the lessons of Egypt and Tunisia. Although the media narrative continues to depict a region simultaneously gripped with fear and revolutionary fervour, the picture on the ground is more nuanced. Protesters may dominate the headlines but their support at domestic level is patchy or, in some cases, fading. In Syria, for example, a large constituency continues to support Asad. Widespread discomfort at the regime’s brutal crackdown has not prevented many from criticising the protesters. One reason for this has been Asad’s relative success as portraying himself as a lynchpin preventing the country from spiralling into chaos. As in Egypt, fear over the uprising’s economic repercussions has also started to mount. A similar dynamic has occurred in Yemen where 5 months into the unrest Saleh is showing few signs of giving up the fight. Tom Finn has written an insightful piece on Yemeni public opinion that does a good job of explaining why this is the case:

But bribes and the security forces can’t explain the scale of the crowds still rallying behind Saleh. As Mohammed Jubran, a professor of economics at Sana’a University points out, “Saleh simply doesn’t have enough money left in his central bank to foot that kind of a bill.”

Rashid Al-Matari, a grizzly-bearded, scrawny tribesman in his early fifties, left his hometown of Beni Matar west of the capital in late March to join the pro-Saleh contingent in Sana’a. He now lives with thousands of other Saleh loyalists in a tent-filled car-park next to a sports stadium on the capital’s shabby outskirts. Rashid says he hasn’t received a penny for his support, but admits that on Fridays he’s given lunch (half a chicken and a bag of rice) and a complimentary bag of the stimulant leaf qat by a man in military uniform he calls Fares.

“We didn’t come here for money, we came to protect our nation from chaos and destruction,” he says, to grunts of approval from fellow tribesmen around him, their lips coated in a green sheen of powdery qat. “Saleh is our ruler because he was elected in fair elections by the Yemeni people, why should he stand down just because usurpers want to seize power?”

Of course, this is not to say that the revolution will not be successful. It is, however, a useful corrective to the optimistic assumptions that suffused news coverage throughout the early months of this year.

KHALED ABDULLAH/REUTERS.

PS. Will be blogging more regularly once I reclaim my life from the dreaded tripos exam.

Saleh clutching at straws

True to form, today’s speech from Saleh was as fiery as it was predictable. As the months of protest have worn on in Yemen, these presidential appearances have become somewhat of a formality. Each week after Friday prayers, Saleh stands in front of a crowd of cheering (and likely, paid) supporters and condemns the protesters in increasingly colourful terms. Today’s target: the JMP. The unrest, it seems, it their fault, and they must be careful ‘not to play with fire’.

This accusation is worth unpacking, if only to expose how ludicrous it is. After a decade in which Saleh has turned the screw on formal politics , keeping the space for dissent to a bare minimum, the JMP have in fact struggled to gain a foothold in the protesters’ affections. The party’s obstacle has come in the form of history. Almost two decades of deference to the regime has rendered the party complicit in the perpetuation of Yemen’s weak political system, and the demonstrators know it.  According to Hamza Alshargabi,  a Yemeni blogger: ‘I, as many, perceive the leaders as a part of the regime; they have [been] stripped of their dignity.’ As Alshargabi’s comments suggest, the JMP’s tacit alliance with the regime provoked anger amongst many of the demonstrators who would make it clear that they neither trusted nor felt represented by the JMP leadership. This is the legacy of a political process that has co-opted the formal opposition into the President’s sphere of influence.

In pushing the label of protest ‘leaders’ upon the JMP, Saleh has only fueled the protesters anger and vindicated their sense of marginalisation from political life.When the JMP finally decided to support the protests, it was widely interpreted as yet another display of the same political opportunism, rather than a principled decision to ‘do the right thing’. Given this, it is interesting to note that figures such as Tawakkul Karman, a human rights activist who has adopted a high profile during the revolution and who is also a member of the Islah Party, have tended to emphasise the fact of their participation in a personal, rather than party-affiliated, capacity.

This newfound notion that formal politics is not an adequate forum for expression has presented particular problems for Saleh. Since the demonstrators have not mobilised along party lines, they now represent a diverse group of unlikely allies drawn together through informal links. This has been one of their biggest strengths: since the protests has no clear leader early on, the president was unable to target a figurehead and in so doing, halt them in their tracks. As a result, he necessarily had to pursue a strategy of (largely meaningless) ‘dialogue’ with the JMP as they were the only identifiable ‘opposition’ grouping he could be seen to engage with.

The claim that this uprising is the work of the JMP is further proof, if it were needed, that Saleh is clutching his final straws. The attempt to delegitimise a feeble political force is a sign of desperation.