Authoritarianism, Women’s movements, and the Arab Spring: Room for optimism on International Women’s Day

A long history

In 1923 Huda Shaarawi became the first president of the Egyptian feminist Union. Although women’s movements and groups have flourished in the region since the Shaarawi’s time, there has been very little change in the actual conditions and status of women. As this 2011 Amnesty International Report highlights nearly a century later women in the Middle East and North Africa are still facing “discriminatory laws and deeply entrenched gender inequality.” Indeed, the report goes on to say that “Across the region, women generally have lower levels of education and higher levels of poverty, and are grossly under-represented in the corridors of power.”

Women’s movements under authoritarianism

Rather than religious interpretations or cultural norms, the most important reason for the lack of progress with women’s rights in the Middle East and North Africa is that until the momentous events of early 2011, all the states in the region were characterised by authoritarianism (and most remain so). Totalitarian leaders dominated their societies so completely that women’s movements have been denied the autonomy and independence needed to push for a meaningful change in the lives of women.

Due to the nature of authoritarian politics women’s groups were not able to develop as mass movements with power bases and popular support but rather had to focus on advocating leaders, or even first ladies, to introduce reforms. In most cases, this enabled them to gain only small changes that were often little more than fig leaves for the problems faced by Middle Eastern and North African women.

Women’s rights under a dictator: The case of Egypt

Any changes that were made tended to benefit presidents and monarchs more than women. For example, in early 2010 Hosni Mubarak introduced a quota of 64 seats for women MPs (out of 508 – about 12%) in the Egyptian parliament. Though a positive step in itself, every single quota seat went to members of Mubarak’s National Democratic Party which not only limited the effect of the reform but delegitimised the very notion of a quota for female MPs in the eyes of the Egyptian public.

Not only are such reforms limited but any gains they did achieve were inherently vulnerable as they are dependent on the goodwill of the leader and can be easily reversed if circumstances change. For example, in the 1970s lobbying of former Egyptian President Anwar Sadat’s wife Jihan led to some minor reforms of the Egyptian personal code. However, when Sadat was replaced by Hosni Mubarak, ‘Jihan’s laws’ left with him. Thirty years later when Egyptian revolutionaries, many of whom were women, overthrew Mubarak, the reforms associated with his wife Suzanne are now under threat, tainted with being tied to the former regime and without a dictator to uphold them.

This dynamic was not only present in Egypt but in almost every state in the region. For example, in Libya Qaddafi’s domination (along with his daughter Aisha) of the women’s movement was so absolute that it has been referred to as ‘state feminism’ under which some progressive changes are introduced but entirely at the whim of the leader and his inner circle and often only for show. Similarly, Ben Ali sought to actively exploit Tunisia’s relatively good women’s rights record in order to provide international cover for broader human rights violations.

Trying to resist authoritarianism: The case of Morocco

This is not to say that women’s movements in the MENA region have not tried to overcome this problem. In 2000 a coalition of women’s groups in Morocco launched a million-signature-campaign to introduce a new family law (moudawana) in the kingdom. In order to avoid reinforcing the authoritarian nature of Moroccan politics, they presented their petition and proposals to Morocco’s elected parliament. However, the plans were blocked as parliament lacked the ability to carry forward the reforms in the face of conservative opposition. The lesson learnt was that there was no point in the women’s movement seeking to mass mobilize and introduce reforms through democratic channels.

Four years later, the same coalition decided to bypass parliament and presented the reforms directly to the king, Mohammad VI. Within two months a slightly diluted version of the proposals became law “in the name of the king”. The reforms, and the women’s movement as a whole, were now dependant on and indebted to Mohammad VI. A victory had been won but at the cost of a powerful women’s movement that could continue to push for and maintain women’s rights autonomously – including the constant application of the new law.

Half a revolution?

With the changes that have taken place in the region over the past year, there has been much disappointment with regards to women’s rights. In fact, there are far less female MPs in Egypt now than there were under Mubarak, women have been largely excluded from the Transitional National Council in Libya, and women have made little gains in Tunisia.

This is largely due to the fact that the respective women’s movements lack the power to take advantage of the political vacuum created by the fall of regimes during the Arab Spring. It should come as no surprise that women’s groups have been slow to effectively organise in the aftermath of the revolutions as under former regimes organising was either not permitted or redundant.

As a result of the nature of authoritarian politics women’s groups were pushed into strategies of concentrating on advocating authoritarian leaders as this was the only realistic means for achieving reforms. As such there was little incentive, let alone opportunity, for mass-mobilization or building-power bases.

Optimism for the future?

Nevertheless, following the Arab Spring revolutions, there is hope that this pattern can be broken and in the long term real changes can be made in the transitional states. In Egypt, for example, women have shown that they can be mobilized en masse, with vast numbers of women coming out to vote in Egypt’s recent parliamentary elections.

With authoritarian regimes removed, women’s groups can now mobilize popular support behind their causes and, once democratically elected governments become dependent upon their support for re-election, there is finally the possibility that real and meaningful changes will be introduced.

For this to happen it is essential that civil society organisations, and in particular the women’s movements and women human rights defenders, are given the space to campaign freely, effectively, and independently for women’s human rights. This is why it is so important to ensure that the new regimes respect freedom of association and the rights of activists.

AIUK event

Want to show your solidarity with women’s human rights defenders in the Middle East? Come to Amnesty International UK’s panel event on 20th March at 7pm to hear activists from Egypt, Libya, and Iran speak.


Making a Joke of Misogyny: The twin dangers of trivialising and glamourising violence against women

Misogyny in the West
When I was working for UN Women in Cairo I regularly encountered, both from opponents and advocates of gender equality, the view that women’s rights are a fundamentally western project, an aspiration to impose Western standards and values onto Egypt. However, the view that the West is a utopia or dystopia (depending on your point of view) with regards to women’s rights can be misleading.

Whilst it is undeniable that, in many ways, Western countries have vastly better records of respecting women’s rights than Egypt – the conclusion that in the West women themselves are ‘respected’ is far more problematic.

Sadly, misogyny is still very much present in the West. Not only this but, unlike other forms of prejudice and hatred, it’s often viewed as acceptable, trivial, and at times even glamorous.

Can rape be funny?
The extent of misogyny in our society can be seen from the way violence against women is regularly treated as a humorous topic. This issue was brought up this week in an article by  Naomi McAuliffe ridiculing the website The site was devoted to ‘banter’ which largely constituted jokes about rape some of which were printed on T-shirts and sold online. One article on the website, entitled ‘Sexual Mathematics’, concludes by saying that if you take a girl for a drink and she “won’t ‘spread for your head’, think about this mathematical statistic: 85% of rape cases go unreported”, going on to say that “we like those odds”. Personally, I think that if a punch line involves urging men to commit rape the joke should not be told.

Unfortunately, the case of is not an isolated incident but part of a wider notion that violence against women is a legitimate source of humour. Indeed, the site has nearly 80,000 ‘likes’ on Facebook – an indication of its popularity. Furthermore, there have been a plethora of other cases in which comedians have been sexual violence as legitimate material for a comedy routine. To name just one example, Russell Brand hilariously called a rape crisis hotline live on stage as part of his act during a live gig in Northampton.

Aside from the obvious offence that would be caused to a survivor of rape in Brand’s audience, there is a real danger of trivialising rape and violence against women that has potentially dreadful results.

Musical Misogyny
Further evidence of the trivialisation and even glamourisation of violence against women can be found in the music industry. You don’t have to look very far among the most popular artists to find shocking and explicit references to domestic and sexual violence.

Perhaps the most high-profile example is that of Rihanna, famously a victim of domestic violence, in her duet with Eminem. The rapper concludes the his final verse with the lines:

“If she ever tries to fuckin’ leave again,
I’ma tie her to the bed and set this house on fire”

This line is immediately followed by Rihanna singing about how much she ‘loves the way it burns’. Unfortunately, this song is far from a one-off and by no means the worst offender.

For that we can turn to Kanye West’s single Monster. The most dramatic instance of misogyny can be found when West boasts that ‘now she claiming that I bruised her oesophagus’ whilst lauding himself as ‘a motherfuckin’ monster’.

The video to accompany Monster is even more shocking. In fact, the video is so full of scenes of sexual violence that it is difficult to know where to start.  There are scenes of dead naked women hanging by their necks from chains:

Several in which the rapper asexually assaults the unconscious bodies of two women:

Another in which West casually holds the severed head of a woman:

And even one point when a man holding a chain saw closes the door to a room in which a women lies unconscious – presumably about to be mutilated.

West tries to pre-empt criticism of his patently offensive depictions of violence against women by opening the video with the following disclaimer:

His best efforts aside, just as prefixing a sentence with ‘I’m not racist but…’ doesn’t excuse the speaker of racism a three-line disclaimer doesn’t absolve West of responsibility.

The glamorisation of sexual and domestic violence against women is not confined to rappers and hip-hop. This can be seen from America’s latest darling of pop Lana Del Ray. The video to her track Born to Die features shocking scenes of violence: at one point Del Ray is lying in bed whilst her boyfriend casually chokes her and in another he aggressively pulls her face towards him. All of this takes place whilst Del Ray sings about trying “to have fun in the meantime” and taking “a walk on the wild side”.

The video climaxes with Del Ray’s boyfriend carrying her unconscious mutilated and blood -soaked body whilst he bears a single defence wound above his left eye. It is not hard to infer what has happened.

Ignoring Misogyny
The explicit violence in Monster could be put down to one very disturbed and misogynistic young man. However, the fact that such music can be bought by millions of people and receive critical acclaim shows that it is part of wider phenomenon of violence against women constituting acceptable entertainment.

This can be seen from the critical reaction to obviously misogynistic entertainment in the media. A handful of feminist blogs aside, its misogynistic elements were largely ignored. For example, in his review in the Daily Telegraph Neil McCormick lauds West’s album, My Beautiful, Dark, Twisted Fantasy (that counts Monster as one of its singles) as a masterpiece and goes so far as to call it “the Sgt. Pepper of hip hop”. Indeed, in his gender-blind review, McCormick fails to even mention the disgusting misogyny prevalent in the record. Though he does say that “when you really are this great, you can be forgiven almost anything.” I beg to differ.

Another example is the media reaction to 2009 MTV Video Music Awards. Media attention focused on Kanye West’s abuse of Taylor Swift that rightly received harsh criticism with even Barak Obama weighing in to chastise West. However, as this article by Ximena Ramirez points out, a joke about date-raping Megan Fox made by host Russell Brand went almost entirely without criticism.

The Dangers of Acceptable Misogyny
The portrayal in such music videos of domestic violence as a normal part of a relationship, and even a signifier of an intense romanticised love, is particularly troubling. As is West’s portrayal of sexual violence as a legitimate part of a ‘dark fantasy’. This is particularly the case as children in their early teens make up a significant part of the fan base of such artists.

With popular culture so infused with references and portrayals of violence against women it is perhaps unsurprising that such ideas seep into wider societal discourse. Just this week I’ve heard the word ‘raped’ used to refer to both getting drunk and losing a football match.

This trivialisation means that violence against women is consistently treated in a way that is very different from say, paedophilia. As Naomi McAuliffe points out, it’s hard to imagine a web site selling t-shirts making jokes out of child abuse doing well. Similarly, the defence of ‘it’s only a joke’ wouldn’t be enough to justify a racist remark. The difference is that rape, misogyny in general, is deemed to be acceptable and even fashionable.

The trivialisation of violence against women has a variety of potential dangerous repercussions. Indeed, the idea that violence against women is acceptable is one of the largest obstacles we face in eliminating it – in terms of it not being committed in the first place, getting abuses reported, getting the authorities to take it seriously, or securing funding for victim services (for example the relatively little public attention given to the recent funding cuts to refuges for women). Faced with such a problems we all have a duty to challenge and rebuke everything that glamorises or trivialises violence against women be it jokes about rape or music videos glamorising domestic violence.Furthermore, I agree with Luke Turner that men have a particularly important role in rebuking such ideas given the dismissive and abusive attitude projected towards many female advocates of women’s rights.

I challenge everyone to pledge to always question trivial references to violence against women and boycott entertainment that glamorises it.

Continuity in the Kingdom: Morocco’s New Islamist Ruling Party


Morocco’s legislative elections, that took place a year early following constitutional changes as part of the kingdom’s response to the Arab Spring, resulted in a triumphantvictory for the Islamist Justice and Development Party (PJD). It gained 107 of 395 seats, just over 27%, making it by far the largest party in parliament. As a result, Morocco’s King Mohammad VI appointed the PJD’s leader Abdelillah Benkirane as Morocco’s first Islamist Prime Minister.

The PJD victory means that Morocco takes pride of place in the Islamist wave sweeping North Africa in the aftermath of the Arab Spring, with Tunisia, Libya, and Egypt all dominated by Islamist political forces.

Islamist governments, until this year, were associated with the autocratic Iran and Sudan. Recently, attention has shifted to the democratic Islamist model offered by Turkey, Tunisia, and Egypt. However, Morocco’s next government, set to be led by its own Islamist party, does not look likely to adhere to either of these paradigms.

So what is the PJD and what can be expected from it?

A conciliatory approach

From its very beginning the PJD adopted a gradual, conciliatory approach to the Moroccan regime. The party’s origins can be traced back to the 1980s when a section broke away from an Islamist group called ash-Shabiba al-Islamiyya in opposition to its confrontational and revolutionary approach. The breakaway group decided to work within the system and, after renouncing violence, sought to be accepted by the regime.

Initially refused recognition, the group was finally given permission to join the Popular Democratic and Constitutional Movement, a small political party led by Abdelkrim Al-Khatib (Mohammad V’s former personal doctor), in 1996. Two years later, the group changed its name to the PJD, and the party that would go on to win the 2011 parliamentary elections was born.

Learning from Algeria – a gradualist approach

The PJD’s cautious approach was cemented through observing experiences in neighbouring Algeria where an attempt by an Islamist party, the Front Islamique du Salut (FIS), to come to power through elections led to a military coup and a decade of bloodshed.

To avoid a repeat of this situation in Morocco, the PJD was determined to stick to its gradualist approach. As the party’s former deputy leader, Lahcen Doudi, told me, the Algerian experience taught the PJD the importance of “working step-by-step so that the local and international environment get to know the PJD”. It was determined to prove that it was able to play by the rules set by the regime and sought to ensure that it as not seen as a threat to the Makhzen – Morocco’s loose network of political, business, and military elites.

There are several aspects to this gradualist approach. First and foremost, rather than rejecting the existing political system as most Islamist groups do, the PJD was unequivocal in its acceptance of the supreme religious and political status of the king, a necessary condition of working within the system in Morocco. This sets it apart from its main Islamist rival al-adl wal-Ihsan (Justice and Charity), which rejects the king’s status completely and as a result thus been excluded from the political scene. Indeed, the PJD has been so vociferous in its support of the king that Malika Zeghal has referred to its leader, and now prime minister, Abdelillah Benkirane as “a palace Islamist”. The PJD’s explicit and repeated acknowledgment and acceptance of the king’s supreme role makes it extremely unlikely that, once in power, it will radically change the make up of Moroccan politics.

The second aspect of the PJD’s gradualism involves its electoral campaigns. Having learned from the Algerian experience, the PJD has sought to gradually increase its presence in parliament rather than seeking to gain as many seats as possible as soon as possible. In that sense, the PJD deliberately limited the number of candidates it put forward in elections so as not to appear a threat. The party that would become the PJD only put up candidates in 43% of seats in 1997 and continued to limit its candidates in the 2002 general and 2003 local elections. This cautious attitude led Michael Willis to describe the PJD as “the party that did not want to win”. This is in direct contrast to the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt which put up candidates in every available seat in this month’s parliamentary election.

Furthermore, the PJD has been willing to accept severe limitations on its actions following interventions by the king. It is said that the party would have won the 2002 elections but it agreed to accept fewer seats than it actually won to appease the palace. Similarly, the party raised few objections to the blatant gerrymandering that took place before the 2007 elections that meant that the party came second in terms of seats despite winning the most votes. Avoiding confrontation with the regime has remained the cornerstone of the PJD’s strategy.

In this election the PJD put forward candidates in nearly every district. However, despite its newfound confidence, the PJD’s history of caution means that it is unlikely to do anything once in power that might provoke fierce opposition.

Governing with limited powers

Even if the PJD did decide to take on a more radical agenda, it would only have very limited ability to enforce it. Although the position of prime minister was strengthened in September’sconstitutional amendment, the king remains the supreme power in Morocco with an effective veto over any policy and control of the police and military. As such, the PJD-led parliament will have little scope to introduce policy shifts without the blessing of the king.

This is especially true as Morocco’s electoral system consistently results in a parliament in which no one party holds an absolute majority. Thus the PJD will be forced into coalition with parties that have close links to the royal palace, such as the conservative Istiqlal party.

Islamism in a conservative society

The impact of the PJD is also dampened by the religious and conservative nature of Moroccan society and politics. In other North African states, such as Tunisia and Algeria, there has been a long-standing state-sponsored secularism, and thus Islamist parties offer entirely different worldviews and political discourses. In this sense, an Islamist-led government could produce a profound political shift even if it only had limited power. This is not the case in Morocco. The king’s status as amir al-mou’mineen (“commander of the faithful”) means that religion already plays an important part in producing political legitimacy, and so Moroccans are used to Islam playing a central role in their country’s political discourse.

Nothing unique about the PJD?

Even within this conservative society, the PJD tends to have a more socially conservative agenda than its main political rivals. Indeed, the party and its members have sometimes taken actions that have provoked fear among some of the more liberal sections of society. For example, itcampaigned against Elton John performing in Morocco for fears that it would ‘encourage homosexuality’ in the kingdom. However, party deputy secretary general of the party, Abdellah Baha, assured Think Africa Press that the PJD would not outlaw anything based on religion alone but only in accordance with “what’s good for society”. When pushed that surely from the PJD’s standpoint what’s ‘good for society’ will itself be based on Islam, he agreed but stressed that it must be accepted by society and not forced upon people. Indeed, Baha went on to deny that the PJD is a religious party at all and instead made the fine distinction that it is “a political party with a religious reference”.

Overall, the PJD’s social conservatism is unlikely to break new ground in an already conservative nation such as Morocco. High profile instances such as the one mentioned above are largely isolated and the PJD-led government is unlikely to change much. One particular fear regularly associated with Islamist parties involves women’s rights. Morocco introduced an imperfect yet much praised family law (Moudawana) reform in 2004, which granted Moroccan women various new rights. Again, this is unlikely to be touched as it was explicitly justified according to Islam and the PJD itself voted for it in parliament.

A second aspect that distinguishes the PJD from other Moroccan political parties is its professionalism. Once the PJD entered parliament, it committed itself to the democratic process, building upon its own internal democratic practices. Breaking with tradition in Morocco, the PJD sought to take its parliamentary role seriously, showing impressive party discipline and commitment. The PJD has almost no defections – defections to the ruling party are commonplace in Morocco – attended more sessions of parliament and asked more questions than any other party. Furthermore, as researcher Eva Wegner has observed “each deputy is required to draft at least one oral question per week, one written question per month, and to propose one bill per legislative year”. This bodes well for a Moroccan parliament rarely associated with such professionalism.

A very Moroccan Islamism

An analysis of the nature and history of the Moroccan system and the PJD makes it very unlikely that a government led by the PJD will lead to any noticeable differences in Moroccan politics; the king will still have hold of the central political and religious role and Morocco will steer a path between the conventional democratic and theocratic Islamist models. The PJD will remain a democratic Islamist party that supports the authoritarian rule of the king.

However, some maintain that the PJD’s accommodating stance was merely a ruse to come to power and that its true intentions will now be revealed. The PJD is a broad organisation, and there are certainly members such as Mustapha Ramid who have taken more confrontational stances. Add to this a rank and file that often appears more radical than the leadership and there is a possibility that the party will take more aggressive positions. But this remains unlikely, especially with Benkirane at the helm.

This article was first published by Think Africa Press and can be found at:

Four reasons why Egypt’s liberals should not fear an Islamist victory

As the results of the first round of Egypt’s first free and fair parliamentary elections are announced, it is clear that the Muslim Brotherhood’s (MB) political arm the Freedom and Justice Party (FJP) was by far the most successful securing almost 40% of the vote. This coupled with Salafist parties gaining about 20% of the vote means that Islamists are likely to dominate the upcoming parliament. Indeed, Islamists look to have gained 120 of 168 seats in the first round dwarfing the results of the strongest liberal grouping, the Egyptian Bloc.

Turnout, at around 70%, demonstrates the vast support that Islamists enjoy in Egypt.

Following these results, many liberals (a term which has become so inflated in Egypt it now covers practically any group that is non-Islamist) have expressed anxiety and over the prospect of an Islamist dominated parliament. Here are four reasons why they shouldn’t:

1. The Best Team Won
Democracy is about who is the most popular. However, popularity is often less about the intrinsic merits of political platforms and more about who is the most organised and best connects with voters. The MB and the FJP vastly outperformed its liberal opponents in both these regards. Its message resonated with the Egyptian masses, it had more electoral banners, provided better information, and had a higher presence in the streets both before and during the elections.

Its victory should not be feared in the way that say a military coup by the ruling Supreme Council for the Armed Forces (SCAF) would be but congratulated, admired and learnt from. It was a fair, professional, and democratic victory. The best team won.

The scale and manner of the defeat should provoke Egypt’s liberals into rethinking their strategy and ideas and force them to engage more with ordinary Egyptians. This will be a positive thing in the long run.

2. It’s Not an Easy Time to Govern Egypt
Though the FJP will hold the most seats in parliament, it faces an uphill task in governing Egypt. The MB’s time-honoured slogan of ‘Islam is the solution’ will truly be put to the test. With the devastating economic problems that Egypt is suffering from, it will be nearly impossible for the government to make the vast improvements to public services that poorer Egyptians need so badly and many expect from the next parliament.

Curing Egypt of the systematic corruption inherent in its economic and political policies, paying off its mounting debts, and revitalising the struggling tourism sector are all huge tasks that will take years.

By the time the Egyptian economy does begin to pick up again it will be time for the next elections with the MB having had to make difficult, and often unpopular, policy choices. Islam alone cannot provide a solution to Egypt’s huge social problems and as the MB led parliament encounters difficulties so will its popularity. This will, if they organise effectively in-between terms, give Egyptian liberals a good chance at making significant gains in the next parliamentary elections.

3. An Elected Parliament Will Provide an Alternative to SCAF
As seen in Tahrir Square over the past two weeks, the main concern for many liberal activists is opposing military rule and calling for a transition to civilian rule and democracy. An elected parliament is a significant step towards this even if liberal parties only have a relatively small number of seats.

The next parliament immediately provides an alternative source of legitimacy to the SCAF. This legitimacy, if used to pressure SCAF into withdrawing from politics, will be the best chance Egypt has of securing genuine democracy in the long term.

The large MB presence in parliament means that liberals will have a strong ally in any disputes with the military. The MB may have stayed out last week’s protests (in preparation for elections) but it would not do so if, for example, SCAF tried to undermine parliament.

Thus liberals, if they have a genuine commitment to democracy, should welcome the new parliament regardless of its internal make-up as a means to secure Egypt’s democratic future.

4. Egypt is not Iran
The points raised previously assume that there will be free and fair elections for the next parliament and that the MB itself has a commitment to democracy.

Since the preliminary results and the scale of the Islamist victory were revealed, many commentators have seen fit to draw analogies with Iran and once again highlight the danger of Islamists hijacking the revolution.

This fear is largely unfounded. Firstly, times are different. Islamism in the late 1970s was very different to the Islamism of the 21st century. Decades of being persecuted and excluded from politics has taught Islamic movements the importance of inclusive democracy and as we can see in Morocco, Tunisia, and Turkey, there is a global trend towards the democratisation of Islamist movements. The times when fears of an Islamist electoral victory constituting ‘one person, one vote, one time’ are behind us.

The MB has shown itself to be politically pragmatic. It has played by the rules of the game and resisted from imposing its will, consistently negotiating with both other parties and the SCAF.

The MB is also very aware of the need for image management, especially given the resources and investment that Egypt will need to accept from the West to rebuild its struggling economy. As such, there will be no forced wearing of the hijab or imposition of medieval punishments that were seen in Iran. Egypt is another case entirely from the Islamic Republic.

Even if the MB (or more likely, the sizable Salafist minority in parliament) wanted to pursue such an agenda, it is unlikely that they would be able to. The parliament will be relatively weak and have little scope to introduce radical policy changes with most powers retained in the hands of the SCAF, at least until the forthcoming presidential election. This coupled with a large number liberal activists ready to risk their lives to protest against any infringement of their civil liberties makes the chances that Egypt will follow a similar revolutionary path to Iran extremely unlikely.

In sum, Egyptian liberals should embrace the results of democracy rather than lament the electoral failings of liberal parties. If they set themselves a well thought out long-term strategy, organise effectively and connect with ordinary Egyptians, they will be well placed to capitalise on the inevitable difficulties that this parliament will face.

Though there will be inevitable struggles over legislation and the constitution, overall an elected parliament, even if dominated by Islamists, is a good thing for Egypt and potentially even a good thing for Egypt’s liberal parties.

When there’s blood on the streets … buy stun-guns.

Walking from the heart of Islamic Cairo, which contains some of the holiest sights in Islam, towards Downtown has always been a noisy affair. The perpetual Cairene traffic jam provides a backdrop of constant car horns and frequent outbursts of road rage, the scene only interrupted by the occasional call to prayer.

Recently, another sound has begun to dominate all others. As if walking into a nest of crickets, as Downtown approaches the air soon becomes full of the startlingly loud buzzing of Cairo’s latest must-have product. The streets are lined with blue flashes as salesmen attempt to catch the attention of passers-by. Beside the usual impromptu stalls selling everything from kitsch children’s toys to imitation designer wallets, stun-guns have pride of place.

A short video can be found here:

Easily found throughout Cairo, all the stun-guns I saw were Chinese made and most of them by a company called Kelin. The most popular are the mobile-phone-size 916 type and the longer baton-esque 801 type, both retailing for between 100 – 200 Egyptian pounds (approximately between 10-20 GBP) making them affordable to most Egyptians.

It wasn’t always like this. Before the revolution salesmen seeking to sell such dangerous products would only have done so underground and at considerable risk to themselves. They now do so openly and in broad daylight with police officers round the corner, unable or unwilling to prevent such activity. Not only do policemen not intervene but some of them are actively involved. One seller, who wished to remain anonymous, told me that he has sold 60-70 stun-guns through a policeman friend of his, for a tidy commission of course.

The emergence of stun-guns is not only due to the ability of salesmen to operate –but also the ever-increasing demand. As this Gallup poll shows, in post-revolutionary Cairo many people feel less safe and they are turning to these weapons to defend themselves (and, inevitably, for more sinister reasons). At the same time as launching a multi-million pound campaign to convince potential tourists that the country is back to normal (see the advertisements on London’s tube), Egypt’s government is failing to convince its own people. One seller, Mohsin, told me:

“sadly after the revolution there are a lot of ‘Baltagia and ‘Haraamia (thugs and thieves) and these [stun-guns] are the best way to stop them.”

Business is booming and our conversation was regularly interrupted by new customers. Mohsin said he’s making much more money than he did from the shirts and mobile phone cases he used to sell before the fall of Mubarak. The customers I saw were from all stratas of Egyptian society: both young and old, rich and poor, male and female. One man bought 5, telling me that he wanted one for all his family.

Mohsin attempted to assure me that the devices are legal and have even been recommended by the police for self-defence. Ever the salesman he even said that if the police do stop me I should give them his number and he would ‘sort everything out’. A policeman I spoke to a few hundred yards away laughed at the suggestion of stun-guns being legal but when challenged said that they didn’t intervene because the ones being sold are ‘imitations that just give off sounds’. This claim was soon disproved when a salesman in his early teens I was speaking too accidently shocked himself as he was packing up his products. His wincing and shaking of his hand was met with his mother shouting ‘that’s because you’re stupid’ (I resisted the urge to suggest it was because she was making her son sell dangerous weapons).

The implications of this perceived decline in public order are potentially huge. Many are convinced that it is a mo’aamara (conspiracy or plot) by the ruling Supreme council for the Armed Forces (SCAF) to make people yearn for the return of a strong (i.e military) leader to restore order. Indeed, I’ve heard this view from many a cab driver who expresses (perhaps imagined) nostalgia for a time-gone-by when adequate traffic policing limited congestion on Cairo’s roads. Others see it as a proof that the SCAF is unable to run the country and further cause for the continuation of the revolution until power is transferred to democratic civilian rule.

Either way, with Egypt’s parliamentary elections in 10 days, the perception that the revolution and subsequent SCAF policies have made Egypt less safe could prove vital in determining the country’s future. As could an increasingly fearful and armed and populace.

This blog post was republished by Think Africa Press at

Five Reasons Why Awarding Tawakkul Karman the Nobel Peace Prize was the Right Choice

On Friday the Nobel Peace Prize was awarded three women’s rights activists: Ellen Johnson Sirleaf and Leymah Gbowee from Liberia and Tawakkul Karman from Yemen. All three are thoroughly deserving of the prize but it was the committee’s choice of Karman that was particularly inspired. Here I put forward five reasons why the choosing Tawakkul Karman was the right decision.

1.     It highlights the Role of, and Consequences for, Women in the Arab Spring
Many commentators have expressed their disappointment that the Nobel Peace Prize had got gone to the activists behind the Arab Spring. For example, Brookings Institute Director of Research Shadi Hamid tweeted:

“Women’s rights is an ongoing struggle, so seems odd #Nobel cmte would pick this yr, when Arab spring one of biggest events in decades”

It’s true that the realisation of women’s rights is an ongoing struggle but, precisely because of the Arab Spring, this is a crucial moment for women in the Middle East. The consequences of the Arab Spring for women have been widely varied. In Tunisia, the revolution has secured and built upon the culture of respecting women’s rights there with each political party now required to have 50% of its lists as female candidates. In contrast, the consequences have been very different for women in Egypt. As I said in last week’s blog, despite the role of women in the revolution and the abundant hopes that characterised the time shortly after the ousting of Mubarak, activists are now fighting just to hold on to what they had before.

As such, this is a pivotal moment for women in the Middle East. Women will either be carried with or left behind by the revolutionary momentum that has built up in the region. Awarding the Nobel Peace Prize to an female revolutionary leader from the Arab world, a women who is called the ‘mother of the revolution’, is a step toward ensuring it’s the former and not the latter. It helps to keep the world’s attention of women’s rights in the Middle East serves as a reminder that there is more to the Arab spring than overthrowing dictators.

2.     The Impact on Yemen
As well as promoting women’s rights in the Arab world, the awarding of the prize to Tawakkul Karman also draws attention to Yemen for the rights reasons; for once Yemen is in the news for its revolution and activists and not al-Qaeda or political instability.

This put new pressure on the regime and provides a huge boost to those fighting for a revolution in Yemen. It is no surprise that a day after the announcement President Saleh ‘promised’ he would resign within days. Even if this promise is mere rhetoric, Salah had to react to the increase international pressure that awarding the Nobel Prize to Karman provided.

3.     It reinforces the notion of Islamism being compatible with Women’s RIghts
Over the last 10 years it has become increasing clear that the realisation of women’s rights in the Middle East can only be done in a manner consistent with Islamist discourse and with the consent or the main Islamist groups. This was most clearly seen in Morocco where a new family law was effectively vetoed in 2000 by the main Islamist groups only to be passed four years later once it had been reformulated according to Islamist language (with only small changes to the actual substance of the laws). With Islamist parties likely to be the largest in the new parliaments of revolutionary states and the largest opposition parties in other regional states, this pattern looks set to continue.

Despite the common conception that Islamism and women’s rights are incompatible, history shows that not to be the case and political reality means that it will be necessary for women’s rights activists to work with Islamist parties in order to get legislation passed.

Karman’s close relationship with the al-Islah party makes an interesting case in point. Her position as a both a women’s rights campaigner and an Islamist sympathiser in many ways gives her more scope to press for reforms beneficial to women. Though she has faced difficulties with some wings of al-Islah, most notably after she was critical after it blocked a law making it illegal for girls under 17 to marry, she sees it as the most effective way to pursue women’s rights in Yemen. This path will need to be well trodden over the coming years if the situation of women in the Middle East is to improve. It is for this reason that awarding the Nobel Peace Prize to Tawakkul Karman and raising awareness of an Islamist campaigner for women’s rights is so important.

4.     Karman as a Role Model
Awarding such a prestigious prize to Middle Eastern women in itself encourages others to follow in Karman’s footsteps and demand their rights. Even before the prize was given to her, Karman was a role model for many women in her native Yemen. As she said to the Guardian:

“If you go to the protests now, you will see something you never saw before: hundreds of women. They shout and sing, they even sleep there in tents. This is not just a political revolution, it’s a social revolution.”

The Nobel prize projects Karman onto the global stage, inspiring thousands of Arab women. Karman described the prize as “a victory for Arab women” and there is real hope that it will turn out to be so.

5.     Promoting Women’s rights promotes democracy
Returning to the initial criticism of the choice of Sirleaf, Gbowee, and Karman – that the Arab Spring was more important than women’s rights – provides the fifth reason: that promoting women’s rights itself promotes democracy; women’s rights are a fundamental part of the Arab Spring.

This was explicitly noted by the Nobel committee:

“We cannot achieve democracy and lasting peace in the world unless women obtain the same opportunities as men to influence developments at all levels of society”

Rather than choosing women’s rights over democracy, the decision recognises that democracy cannot be achieved without empowering women.

Why the SCAF announcement is not good for Egypt

On Saturday Sami Anan, chief of staff of the ruling Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF), released a document signalling a much awaited change in several key policies. The day before, Friday 30th September, protestors had flocked to Tahrir Square to protest against the ongoing military rule in Egypt and demand a transition to civilian rule. At the same time, political parties had threatened to boycott the upcoming legislative elections were there not changes to the electoral law, with the Muslim Brotherhood even threatening ‘a revolution’ on Sunday had its demands not been met. The SCAF announcement, coming a day later, seemed to be a direct result of such pressure.

News reports have tended to see Saturday’s statement by the SCAF as the result of pressure from mass protests and political parties thus implying some concession by the military leaders to democracy and popular will. The BBC stated that:

“Egypt’s ruling military council has decided to amend an article of an election law, state media report, following demands from protesters.”

The Egyptian Gazette goes further in describing the announcement as the SCAF “caving in” to popular pressure.

Initially, there seems to be reason to praise the SCAF’s announcement. It purports to set out a timetable to the handover power to a civilian government, promise the end of military trials for civilians and the emergency law and amend the controversial electoral law.  However, closer analysis of the document makes for a less optimistic reading.

Perhaps the issue that resonates most strongly with the public is the military trials of civilians. Since the revolution, more people have been tried under military law than under the entire 30 years of Mubarak’s reign. On Friday nearly every protestor and wall was covered with stickers saying الثوار مش بلطجيه – ليه نتحاكم عسكرية؟ (Revolutionaries are not thugs – why are we trying them militarily?) or, more simply, أنا ضد المحاكمات العسكرية للمدنيين (I’m against the military trials of civilians). The SCAF document only promises to ‘study’ or ‘look into’ ending military trials for civilians. Anyone who has lived in Egypt will tell you that promising to ‘look into something’ effectively means nothing is going to happen. On top of that, even this vaguest of commitments comes with an immediate caveat: the SCAF will study ending military trials for civilians إلا في الجرائم التي ينص عليها قانون القضاء العسكري (with the exception of crimes committed under the military code of justice). However, Human Rights Watch researcher Heba Morayef points out that this military code includes penal code crimes and covers almost all crimes. In adding this caveat we see that the SCAF doesn’t understand, or is choosing to disregard, the issue at stake. The delineation should not be the type of crime committed but the status of the person committing the crime; military trials should be reserved for military personal – not civilians.

The second ‘concession’ the SCAF made was to set out a clear timetable for transferring power to civilian rule. The problem is that its not clear and barely a timetable. The schedule given by the SCAF is complicated and, crucially, non-binding. Deciphering the announcement reveals that elections for the Lower House (Peoples’ Assembly) are set to begin on 28th November 2011 and last until mid January 2012. Once results have been announced, this house will convene and on the 26th March, the upper house (Shura Council) will sit. Then, by early April, the two houses will come together to draw up a new constitution. This constitution will be written and put to referendum by October. Once the constitution has been passed, candidates will be able to put themselves forward for president and a presidential election will be held within 60 days. Assuming, as is probable, all parts of the process take the maximum amount of time, Egypt is effectively left with a military government until late 2012 or even early 2013 – and that is if there are no unforeseen delays. By that time the SCAF will have been in power for two years will have had the time to entrench its control over Egypt’s political institutions leaving the country in an Algerian-esque part-military/part-civilian political landscape.

Next, the SCAF promises to look into the possibility of “stripping former National Democratic Party members of political rights”. Not only is stripping anybody of their political rights deeply problematic from a human rights standpoint but it must be remembered that Egypt was a one-party state before the revolution. As such, vast numbers of NDP members will have joined the party out of necessity rather than any commitment to Mubarak’s dictatorship. This is especially the case in upper Egypt where big families were courted by the party often with little option other than to work with it.

The final part of the SCAF’s announcement concerns the largely incomprehensible electoral laws. Political parties have vociferously campaigned against article 5 of the new electoral law. As it stands, a third of the MPs in Egypt’s next parliament will be independent candidates. Political parties have decried the law as enabling former Mubarak supporters to gain seats in the parliament and for encouraging vote buying as people vote for individuals and not party manifestos. That political parties call for a larger proportion of seats to go to political parties should come as no surprise. Indeed, the amendment to article 5 should be seen more as the SCAF appeasing the parties than as a genuine concession to democracy and greater civilian control of Egyptian politics.

The argument that the SCAF gave in to popular pressure is undermined by the fact that Friday’s turnout, at between 5,000 to 10,000 was below expectations and far below the level needed to intimidate the SCAF.

Despite hopes that it was a response to democratic pressures, the SCAF document serves only to sap more optimism from those hoping for a democratic, civilian-run, Egypt. It is this dying optimism that is leading to a build up of tension against the SCAF. On Friday I heard for the first time mass chants specifically against leader of the SCAF FIeld Marshal Tantawi with 1000s of people chanting الشعب يريد إسقاط المشير (the people want the overthrowing of the field marshal). Without a genuine change in the direction of Egyptian politics an escalation in the tension is inevitable.

They were a vital part of the revolution – but have things since got worse for Egyptian women?

History Repeating Itself
Iranian women were instrumental in bringing down Shah in 1979. However, the regime that revolution brought about is very different from the one most Iranian women were hoping for when they took to the streets. Indeed, speaking to the BBC on the 30th anniversary of the revolution Shirin Ebadi claimed that:

“Only five months had passed since the revolution when the Revolutionary Council took away all the rights that women had won over the previous years even though the new constitution had yet to be passed and the new president had not been elected.”

For anyone familiar with the fate of women in Egypt since the revolution, this makes for chilling reading. As with Iran, despite the initial hopes the situation of women has in many ways worsened since the revolution. As Dina Abou el Soud, founder of the Women’s Revolutionary Coalition puts it, “after the revolution, everything started to go backwards.”

Whereas in Tunisia, the revolution was used as an opportunity to consolidate and improve women’s rights, in Egypt the limitless optimism and euphoria of January has been replaced by a desperate fight to hold on to what they had before.

Virginity Tests
The Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF) that now rules Egypt was rightly denounced when it subjected detained female protesters to virginity tests –  tests that were described by Amnesty International as tantamount to torture. A general anonymously told CNN:

“we didn’t want them to say we had sexually assaulted or raped them, so we wanted to prove that they weren’t virgins in the first place.”

The perverse logic of this comment aside, it’s emblematic of the misogyny that exists at the very top of the military government. However, along with such disturbing and high profile infringements of women’s rights, there lies a deeper and perhaps even more troubling current among Egyptian politics that involves an eroding of the political representation and legal status of women. Rather than the great opportunity to push forward with gender equality that many had expected the revolution to herald, women’s rights activists are now fighting just to hold on to what they had in before the revolution.

The Exclusion of Women from the Political Process
The new government that was formed in the wake of Mubarak signified the reduced role that women play in the new Egypt. The new cabinet contained only a solitary woman, compared to four in the pre-revolution one. On the 19th March amendments to the constitution were passed. However, the committee appointed by the SCAF that determined these amendments didn’t include a single woman. Predictably, the committee then proceeded to enact measures that further limited the political representation of women in Egypt.

The most important of these was the removal, on 20th July, of the already small quota (64 of 454 seats – 12%) of female MPs that existed in the Mubarak era. Though the new law requires each party to have at least one woman on their party list, they are likely to be at the bottom. It seems inevitable that when a new parliament is formed it is will hold less female MPs than previous one.

Another heavily criticised move was the amendment to article 26 of the constitution that seems to prohibit a woman from becoming president. It stipulates that the president ألا يكون متزوجاً من غير مصري (cannot be married to a non-Egyptian). The repeated use of the masculine pronoun implies that the President must be a man. However, rather than a deliberate ploy to prevent a woman from becoming president, it is more likely that it simply never occurred to the committee such is the political irrelevance of women in contemporary Egypt.

It is not only in parliament that women are un(der)represented. The main groups that were active in the revolution have very few female leaders. There are, for example, no women in the Muslim Brotherhood’s highest body, the majlis shura (consultative council). My interviews with April 6th members revealed that the youth movement has far more male than female members and doesn’t have a women’s officer or any project specifically designed to pursue the interests of women in Egypt. Though they maintain that the issues of women are pursued within a broader democratic project.

The Fight to Keep Suzanne’s Laws
Along with the political representation, another threat to the position of women in Egypt is an increasing pressure to reform family laws. The ‘Suzanne Mubarak Laws’, passed between 2000-2010 and named after the former presidents wife who was instrumental in getting them passed, are some of the most progressive in the Egyptian legal system. They include the جلع (khula’) law that allows women to be granted a divorce even if their husband refuses so long as they pay back the dowry and an amendment to the custody law that enables mothers to keep their children until they are 15 (increased from 9).

Whilst acknowledging that these are some of the most progressive laws in Egypt, the relativity of this statement must be kept in mind. In many ways the laws are already problematic. For example, the khula’ divorces routinely take a long time to pass through the courts with women often forced to remain with abusive partners. Furthermore, there are problems with women’s access to lawyers and the requirement of paying back the dowry and legal fees restricts the process to relatively well off women. Secondly, whilst, as the name implies, the passing of the laws was largely due to Suzanne Mubarak, the laws were the product of years of work by women’s NGOs that Mrs. Mubarak provided the rubber stamp to.

The problem they now face is that a conservative discourse is gaining strength that decries the laws as undermining the traditional Egyptian family, increasing the divorce rate and damaging the social fabric. Combined with a drive on to purge Egypt of everything associated with Mubarak, there is a significant threat that these laws will be repealed.

Is Islamism the threat?
The conservative nature of the opposition to these laws has lead many to equate it with Islamism. The recent decision of grand mufti Gomaa to ‘review’ these laws adds weight to such claims. Isabel Coleman writes in Chatham House’s World Today that in Egypt there is a danger of backsliding as

“women can no longer count on authoritarian rulers to hold the line on women’s rights in the face of Islamist pressures”.

However, the assumption that Islamism and women’s rights are essentially at odds is problematic. Coleman herself writes in the same article that women’s rights are a contentious issue within the Muslim Brotherhood – seemingly evidence of the compatibility with women’s rights with at least some Islamists. Indeed, in June there was a mass conference of female members of the Muslim Brotherhood (the sisters) to which there were 1000s of attendees. Whereas before the revolution their activism was limited on security grounds, there is now increasing pressure from the women to be more openly involved in the organization and many of the female MPs in the next parliament are likely to come from the Muslim Brotherhood.

The potential compatibility between Islamism and women’s rights can be seen from the experience of other North African States. In Tunisia the Nahda party has consistency stated its support of the most progressive family code in the Arab world. Similarly, the 2004 reform of the family law in Morocco was supported by the two main Islamist groups. Nadia Yassine, head of the women’s section of Islamist group al-Adl wa-Ihsan (Justice and Charity) described the new law to me as ‘a beautiful thing, 100% Islamic’ and even the more conservative Party of Justice and Development (PJD) voted for it in parliament. Rather than Islamism per se, the problem in Egypt is one of patriarchy. Many Islamists may be against women’s rights but that is not simply because they are Islamists.

Indeed, all the Suzanne laws take their inspiration from Islamic law and cannot be consider Western imports into the Egyptian legal system. Indeed, Claudia Ruta, a governance specialist at the UN women office in Cairo argues that opposition to the laws are based less on religious grounds that and more on financial factors. For example, one of the main determinants of opposition to the custody law amendment is that once custody of the child is given to women the father must pay significant costs including a flat for the mother and child to live in. Reducing the age of custody reduces the cost that separated fathers must pay. The opposition is rarely a Fathers for Justice-esque.

A Problem of Perceptions
The patriarchal nature of Egyptian society leads to perceptions of women and even their own self-perceptions that limit the ability of women to enjoy political, legal, or social equality in the country. Dina Abou El Soud angrily recalls that in the period after the revolution she was told by many male activists that they were thankful for the help of women during the revolution but that now they should return to their homes.

Such views are even repeated by educated women. Hana, an activist and senior member of the April 6th movement confessed to me that she didn’t think there was enough competent female MPs to fill a quota and was thus in favour of its abolition (this is despite the mess that men have made in ruling Egypt over the past 50 years!). This lack of faith in the ability of women to participate and perception that they should be kept away from the public sphere runs through society and is one of the most serious problems facing women’s rights campaigners.

Many of the activists I have spoken to stress the need to work extensively with the young generation, both at high school and university levels to change the discourse surrounding women in Egypt. However, it is less clear where the resources and staff needed to implement such a scheme on the scale needed will come from.

Divided We Fall
In order to create widespread changes in the status of women in Egypt cooperation between the disparate women’s groups is needed. However, as Dina Abou El Soud reveals, the relationship between groups is defined more by competition than cooperation. With funding limited, groups are left to fight among themselves and protect organisational interests rather than work together for a common goal.

An Optimistic Note
To counter this division several coalitions have been formed including Dina’s own Coalition for Revolutionary Women. This coalition will seek to work with 13-18 year olds to create a basis for pushing for greater representation of women in the elections after the next ones. Alongside this, next month the Arab Alliance for Women will launch a Federation of women’s groups that will be the biggest in the Arab world that will seek to facilitate the effective cooperation of women’s groups. The Alliance has already produced a charter with clear aims at improving the situation of women in Egypt and includes detailed aims in a variety of fields. Such plans provide tentative optimism into post-revoltuionary Egypt.

Another positive aspect of the revolution is that it has enabled women’s rights activists to work freely – now holding meetings in the open and advertising them on facebook. The revolution also inspired a new generation of activists, many of whom support gender equality. Dina describes the revolution as having “woken women up” saying that “I went out on to the streets in January and I never came back.”

Shirin Ebadi says that while the Iranian revolution:

“caused women to go back a few steps under the law … this only made women work harder to regain their rights and to prove themselves”.

Once again, the parallels with Egypt are clear.

It was supposed to be a protest

This Friday’s protest was in reaction to the decision by the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF) to expand Egypt’s emergency law. A move which Amnesty international called “the greatest erosion of human rights since the resignation of President Hosni Mubarak”. Indeed, the scope of the law is now wider than it was before the revolution, now including instances of domestic disturbances, public order issue, and ‘assaults on the right to work’. Effectively enabling the SCAF to crush any protest or strike at will. Those arrested face trials under Supreme State Security Courts which are effectively military trials.

The plans were grand. It was supposed to be a million people all dressed in black staging a sit. It was supposed to demonstrate their rejection of the reactivation of the emergency law. It was supposed to be the ‘Friday of Deafening Silence’.

The reality was very different.

In contrast to last week’s protest Tahrir square was almost empty. A few hundred protesters gathered in one corner of the square talking loudly as speakers addressed the crowd with microphones.

The Friday of deafening silence was neither.

Indeed, there seemed to be as many salesmen as protesters. There were selling everything from orange juice and tissues to more sinister products like drugs and electric tasers.

That the protest failed to live up to its billing is clear. However, it is less clear why people failed to turn up to express their opposition to the reactivated emergency law.

Most of the protestors I spoke to explained the low attendance due to fear of the newly activated emergency law. Given the violence outside the Israeli embassy last week it was conceivable that the SCAF would use the law to detain protestors and thus a certain amount of anxiety would be justified. Whilst this may have prevented some people from attending the protest, it seems inadequate to explain the huge drop in attendance. A more important factor was that the diverse groups present in last weeks protest didn’t attend this weeks, including the April 6th movement and other groups such as the Muslim Brotherhood once again didn’t attend. This in spite of the fact that both groups strongly oppose the emergency law.

Before concluding that Egyptians are now afraid to protest or have given up the challenge, we must remember that the Friday 9th protest was the first for over a month, allowing time for preparation and planning. Coming just 7 days later, the Friday 16th protest simply came too soon for many of the groups and organisations that are able to bring people onto the square. There was also the fear that the SCAF would manipulate any trouble akin to that of last week to further entrench its control over the country.

The poor turnout does not mean that Egyptians are resigned to accepting the emergency law. Indeed, the April 6th movement and others plan to hold large demonstrations this coming Friday (23rd). This promised to be a more accurate gage of Egypt’s rejection of SCAF policies. We’ll see.

A story of flags in Tahrir Square

Yesterday marked the first mass protest in Tahrir Square since the start of Ramadan over a month ago. The military abandoned the square for 24 hours to allow the demonstration, promising to re-seize afterwards. Making the most of this window, activists labeled the day ‘gomAa taSHeeH al-masaar’ (the Friday of the correction of the path’), alluding to their hope of reclaiming a revolution that many believe is slipping out of their hands, if it hasn’t done already.

Walking into Tahrir Square, past the activists checking bags and IDs, you’re struck by a distinct lack of police (in uniform anyway) and a mass of waving flags. Most of these are Egyptian flags waved defiantly yet still joyously by revolutionaries. However, it’s the other flags present that provide insights into the disparate groups to be found in the square. Showing that even without the Muslim Brotherhood and Salafists, Egyptian revolutionaries are a vast and heterogeneous group.

Flags of the other North African revolutionary states were evident with many Tunisian and the new (old) Libyan flag. Indeed, one man had both of these flags with the Egyptian one on one pole because, he said, he saw them as ‘one revolution’. There were also a small band of men waving the old UAR flag that represented the union of Egypt and Syria and were chanting Arab nationalist slogans whilst holding up photos of the former president and champion of Arab nationalism Gamal Abdel Nasser. There were also Saudi Arabian flags on sale but it seemed that none of these had been bought, maybe the seller wasn’t aware that the Salafists had planned to stay at home.

As well as national flags there were various banners of domestic associations and groups, particularly youth activist groups. The most prominent of these was the banner of a white fist against a black background of the April 6th movement that was inspired by the Serbian anti- Milošević movement Otpor! Talking to activists you got the sense that they were angry that the revolution had not been completed but were confident that it would be. Many of their members expressed the traditional left-wing sentiments that many supposed were dead in the Middle East, describing the revolution in terms of class warfare and the rise of the oppressed against their oppressors. Indeed, one activist eagerly asked me whether the revolution had been an inspiration for the London riots and expressed disappointment when I confessed that I hadn’t seen any Egyptian flags present in London last month. He then stated that he would support any means necessary of ensuring that the state ‘did was it was supposed to do’ for the people of Tottenham and Croydon. He didn’t say whether the same applied to Egypt.

One activist expressed her concern about protest days such as this as the need to be seen to be involved ‘prevents groups from actually doing anything’. However the level of unity and common purpose between the groups was admirable and seemed important given the obstacles they’re facing. Indeed, most of the people present were wearing stickers ‘No! I’m against military trials of civilians’ in Arabic in reference to many thousands (estimates are at 12,000) that have been tried in recent months.

Two of the other most prominent flags were those of arch-rival football groups the Ultras of the Al-ahly team and the White Knights of competitor club Zemalek. Interestingly enough, given their long history of hatred, these groups seem more like allies than enemies. At their most recent match the Ultras had got into a fight with the police and were then aided in their scuffles by the White Knights. Thus a new friendship was born, one that had been unthinkable before. As one ultra put it, it is ‘like seeing Jews and Muslims dancing together in the street.’

Which leads to the last type of banner present, those reflecting the marked anti-Israeli sentiment. There were many signs criticizing Mubarak’s policy towards Israel and when one speaker called for the suspension of the sale of gas to Israel the crowd cheered with approval. There was even a banner stating in English that ‘Israel does not exist’. Such sentiment does not only represent the outrage felt throughout the Middle East at the Israeli treatment of the Palestinians but also a rejection of the former regime’s foreign policy, or lack thereof. Mubarak was seen as a puppet of the USA and Israel and it would be expected that revolutionary voices would reject such a model, particularly as it was built on a liberal capitalist economic policy that most of them so strongly reject.

The protests then moved on with various marches towards the Ministry of the interior and the Israeli embassy. We were told that it wouldn’t be safe for us to take part as there were persistent rumours that Western spies were in the midst of the protestors seeking to pervert the revolution. We took the advice of our Egyptian friends. Sadly what followed was a level of violence that had seemed unthinkable during the day. In the now infamous riot outside the Israeli embassy another flag was introduced to our story, as protestors tore down the Israeli flag from outside the embassy and several others were burnt. The state of alert that has been imposed makes the revolutionaries hopes of ‘correcting the path’ seem further away than ever.