Brookings: Experts - Omar Ashour

Politicizing Security Sector Reform in Egypt

Omar Ashour — Sun, 03 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0500

A couple of weeks ago, Egypt’s renowned intellectual Dr. Fahmy Howeidy summarized a study I conducted earlier on security sector reform (SSR) in Egypt. Howeidy was trying to highlight an important fact: the availability of the SSR “know-how” in Egypt, whether in this study or in others. What Dr. Howeidy probably did not know was that the study and other related initiatives were earlier submitted to several Egyptian officials. Interest in such studies/initiative was definitely there. Capacity to implement them is another story.

It is well-established by now that tourism, foreign direct investments, political stability, social justice, and probably the success of Egypt’s democratic transition, rest on the security conditions in the country. The two questions usually asked: is the security sector effective in containing real threats? And is that sector accountable to the people, represented by their elected civilians? So far, the answer in Egypt is probably a “no” to both questions.

‘Ikhwanization’

The presidency’s approach to SSR was so far gradual, not revolutionary; working within the rules of the system rather than fundamentally altering them. Far from “ikhwanization” (Brotherhoodization) of the Police, President Mursi appointed General Khaled Tharwat, as the new head of the National Security Apparatus (NSA) in October 2012. General Tharwat comes from the very core of the notorious State Security Investigations (SSI). He used to head “Internal Activity,” the general administration in charge of monitoring and investigating civil society groups, political parties, and media outlets. At one point, he was also heading the “Countering Brotherhood Activity” group, in charge of neutralizing the Muslim Brothers.

Moreover, far from Tunisia, where the first Interior Minister was a civilian, torture-victim from al-Nahda Party, the first Interior Minister under the first-ever civilian, democratically elected Egyptian President was General Ahmed Gamal al-Din, a figure known to be loyal to the criminally convicted, General Habib al-Adly, Mubarak’s Minister of Interior. Gamal al-Din was a hardliner during negotiations to release political prisoners following the success of the revolution, as well as during the talks to end the Mohammad Mahmoud street clashes of November 2011. He was also a witness in the “Giza Officers Trial,” in which 17 policemen were accused of killing and injuring protesters in January 2011. He defended the policemen, claiming that the victims had been killed in “self-defence.” Officers but Honourable Coalition, an unofficial organization of police officers who are pushing for internal reforms, accused Gamal al-Din of being a member of a powerful anti-reform faction in the ministry, dubbed “al-Adly’s men” (after former Interior Minister Habib al-Adly). Overall the Mursi administration did not make any major steps in SSR, probably due to very cautious political calculations.

“I got 186 dead officers and more than 800 injured so far, petty-officers blocking security chiefs from entering their offices, a presidential palace getting torched on weekly basis by a hundred kids or so … and Egypt’s largest government complex was blocked for four days, when will I have time to reform? … When these political polemics end,” said the new Interior Minister, General Mohammed Ibrahim February 19, 2013. It was one of the rare times an incumbent minister speaks out publically about the limitations of the security forces and the reform process. And, more worrying, he was not lying about the facts or the numbers. A collapse of the Ministry of Interior (MoI) at the moment can have disastrous consequences in Egypt.

The Interior Ministry’s Catch-22

The violence on the streets and the politicization of the SSR by rival politicians had negative consequence on the reform process and its credibility. On talk-shows, opposition figures call for SSR to be implemented and for police brutality to end. At the same time, the very same political figures praise security generals and corrupt judges/prosecutors known for their support of brutal tactics and faking charges. Some politicians even call for them to intervene in the political process, by cracking down on their rivals. In that sense, the MoI is in a “catch-22.” On the one hand, it is responsible for defending state institutions, constantly under attack by violent groups from various backgrounds. On the other hand, if any of these protestors were killed or injured, the MoI will be accused of brutality. Add to that the limited experience in non-lethal tactics of riot control. “All what they [activists] tell you is lies…the pattern we got here is that the officer gets attacked with shotguns and Molotov cocktails. If he flees, he gets accused of negligence and then he gets tried. If he fights back, he gets accused of brutality and then he gets tried as well. What exactly is he supposed to do?…” told me a major in the Central Security Forces, who witnessed the attacks on the presidential palace last January.

In all cases, no democratic transition is complete without targeting abuse, eradicating torture, and ending the impunity of the security services, with effective and meaningful civilian control of both the armed forces and the security establishments. Those objectives were at the core of the Egyptian revolution of 2011. They cannot be attained in the current extreme polarization in Egypt; nor in the middle of constant attempts to manipulate the security sector by political rivals. As shown in other comparative cases, the unity of political forces on that particular demand is key for the success of both security sector reform and democratization.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Al Arabiya English

Egypt's 'Spoilers' Threaten Democracy

Omar Ashour — Mon, 25 Feb 2013 00:00:00 -0500

“The street wars will continue to extreme levels. … We will force this regime to renounce power and succumb to the will of the Egyptian people,” said the man who was voted out by a majority of Egyptians, and earlier removed by popular revolutionary forces. Mubarak’s prime minister and chief henchman Ahmad Shafiq made these statements last December from Abu Dhabi. The statement proved to be true. Politically motivated violence on the streets of Cairo continued, including attacks on city councils, police stations, prisons, headquarters of political parties, and multiple attempts to shut down Egypt’s largest governmental complex in Tahrir Square. This is in addition to almost weekly attacks and arson attempts on the Presidential Palace, where Shafiq’s main rival, President Mohammed Morsi, resides.

The scene in Egypt is quite intricate. There are definitely more than two parties in the power struggle. In a July 2011BBC article, I expected a usual post-revolution power struggle between Islamist and non-Islamist forces to unfold, with the losing side reneging on democratization process and attempting to spoil it. I showed that the exclusionary behavior among Egypt’s political elite has been a historic trend since Nasser’s coup of 1952, and even before it. What I underestimated is the level of violence associated with the reneging process.

The political scene is not fully captured by the simple “Islamist versus secular” explanation. After all, not only the ultraconservative Salafi Nour Party supported the demands of the “secular” National Salvation Front, but also it altered an earlier fatwa (religious edict) forbidding alliances with non-Islamist parties. In political contexts, opportunism checks belief; and political Salafis are not always an exception.

Three factors may help explain major parts of the complex Egyptian political scene. High expectations of the Egyptian people in the aftermath of the popular revolution is one of those factors. With a shaky economy, limited security, conflicting interests, scarce resources, and chaos on the streets, the current conditions hardly meet any of the revolution’s slogans: “bread, freedom, social justice, and human dignity.”

Add to that another factor: the limited capacity and inexperience of the new political elite, whether the ones chosen by Egyptians in elections, or the ones who weren’t but were part of the revolution against Mubarak. Incompetence of the government and the opposition is a second factor. The ones who were victorious in the elections, the Muslim Brotherhood and their Freedom and Justice Party (FJP), were so far unsuccessful in containing polarization, in fulfilling some of their pre-election promises, and even in appeasing some of their political allies. Still, they managed to be on the winning side every time Egyptians got a chance to cast a ballot; that is four historic national elections/referendums in less than two years. And here lies the third factor.

In 1997, Stanford’s political scientist Stephen Stedman authored a seminal study entitled “Spoiler Problems in Peace Processes.” He argued that when civil war ends, various “losers” from the peace process emerge. The “losers” are groups of leaders and parties who believe that the new transition will threaten their interests. And as a result, they will do their best to “spoil” the peace. His theory applies to various forms of transition, including democratic ones. In the latter, former elites who lost their positions of power and have limited chance for a quick comeback via elections are more interested in “spoiling” the democratic game, and coming back via alternative routes. Additionally, some of the groups and parties that took part in the revolution, but consistently lose in every electoral exercise, can have a similar behaviour.

The spoiler problem and its implications are extremely dangerous for democratic transitions; equally dangerous for both national and human security. If successful, usually the country in question either descends into a vicious civil war or the process ends in a brutal military coup. In other words, spoiler behavior can turn a democratic dream into a bloody nightmare.

But the spoiler problem is not without a solution. Key in the solution is to properly identify the spoilers, their types/goals, actual weights on the ground, actual capacity to spoil, and the appropriate strategy to deal with them. Stedman identified spoilers based on their intentions/goals: limited, greedy, and total. He advised a range of strategies for managing or ending political violence, the key feature of spoiler behaviour.

Limited spoilers are those who seek a share of power within a constitutional framework, seek basic security and protection of themselves or their followers, or suffer from specific economic- or justice-related grievances. For those an inducement-based strategy to abandon political violence is advised. Greedy spoilers are the ones who expand or contract their goals based on calculations of cost and risk. Those may commit to democratic institutions and non-violent politics, but renege on it whenever faced with low costs and risks. A socialization-based strategy is advised to deal with those, including the establishment of a set of norms for acceptable behavior. These norms then become the basis for judging the demands of the parties (are they legitimate or not?) and the behaviours of the parties (are they acceptable in the normative framework or not?). Finally, total spoilers are usually led by individuals who see the world in all-or-nothing terms and often suffer from pathological tendencies that prevent the pragmatism necessary for compromise settlements. For those, a coercion strategy is advised by Stedman; a strategy that relies on the use or the threat of punishment to deter or alter unacceptable spoiler behavior or reduce the capability of the spoiler to disrupt democratic transition.

All three types of spoilers exist and operate currently in Egypt. The categories are never set in stone, though. In Egypt, the reliance on street violence to attain political goals is on the rise, and proved to be effective and useful. Whereas those tactics were justified by revolutionary forces and political groups operating under brutal dictatorships, they cannot be justified in a nascent democratization process where alternation of power is guaranteed by ballots, not bullets.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Al Monitor

The Algerian Tragedy

Omar Ashour — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 00:00:00 -0500

Commenting on the recent Algerian hostage crisis on an international news channel, one terrorism “expert” made a remarkable claim: “Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM) was founded because of the so-called Arab Spring, after we abandoned our Libyan ally [Colonel Muammar el-Qaddafi].” After enduring a few more inaccuracies, I felt compelled to put aside the students’ papers that I was grading.

Let’s start by stating the obvious: AQIM is not a product of the Arab Spring. AQIM exists because of the military coup that ended the “Algerian Spring” two decades ago. And it has not been strengthened by the Libyan revolution, but rather by the failure of state-building in North Mali, the absence of post-conflict reconciliation and reintegration in Algeria, and a lack of accountability for a shadowy Algerian security establishment whose brutal methods have proved woefully inadequate to the challenge.

AQIM’s history can be traced directly to the coup staged by a handful of Algerian generals against President Chadli Bendjedid in January 1992. Bendjedid, whose memoirs were recently published (he died in October), gave Algeria its first relatively democratic constitution, lifting the ban on political parties and guaranteeing a minimum of basic rights, including freedom of speech, assembly, and conscience. He was the first Arab president to be criticized on state-owned TV (that is, without the critic disappearing afterwards). Algeria was the first Arab Spring country.

But the spring turned out to be fleeting. Fearing threats to their vast economic empire and their grip on high politics, the generals decided to end the reforms, overturn the results of Algeria’s first democratic parliamentary elections, and remove Benjedid from power. In the West, the prevailing narrative is that “progressive” army generals blocked the advance of the “fundamentalist” Front Islamique du Salut (FIS). But that account does not explain why the generals soon allied with another “fundamentalist” group (a faction of Algeria’s Muslim Brotherhood, Mouvement pour la société Islamique) and gave them several top posts, including control of the Ministry of Religious Affairs and Endowments.

Eight months after the coup, in September 1992, the Armed Islamic Group (GIA) was founded, soon attracting supporters from every walk of life, including criminal elements and Algerian intelligence agents. By 1998, the GIA’s primary target was not the army, but civilians, rival leaders’ relatives, and FIS strongholds.

Western and Arab researchers documented 642 massacres between 1992 and 1998. Most were instances of “electoral cleansing,” occurring in districts that voted for the FIS in the 1991 election. The GIA took responsibility for some of the massacres. But opposition figures, former Algerian intelligence officers, and diplomats accused the military of being complicit or even directly responsible for others.

Then a GIA brigade in the Kabylie Mountains east of Algiers, calling itself the Salafi Group for Preaching and Combat, split off and condemned the GIA’s actions. Part of the GSPC abandoned armed tactics and made peace with President Abdelaziz Bouteflika’s regime, which promised reconciliation, the release of political prisoners, investigations of more than 10,000 disappearances, social reintegration, political rights, and, most important, civilian control of the armed forces.

Despite the activation in 2006 of the Charter for Peace and National Reconciliation (the legal framework for these issues), most of the promises were never fulfilled. Disappointment was pervasive, with some of the former insurgent commanders publicly arguing that the regime was not honoring its obligations, and that the reconciliation process was a sham.

By January 2007, AQIM had emerged from the GSPC faction that did not demobilize. Most of those named in connection with the recent hostage crisis had joined that faction following the split with the GIA. They included Mokhtar Belmokhtar, who passed through all the phases of Algerian armed Islamist activism, from Afghanistan to the Sahel; and Abdelhamid Abou Zeid, who started as a political activist in the FIS party structure, took up arms in response to the 1992 coup, and then became a hardened hostage-taker in charge of one of AQIM’s Sahara brigades.

Despite being a breakaway faction of a breakaway faction of the defunct GIA, AQIM demonstrated its operational capacity in December 2007, when it targeted United Nations offices in Algiers and the Algerian Constitutional Court simultaneously, killing 41 individuals and injuring 170.

By 2009, AQIM was learning from the mistakes of its mother organization, the GIA, and its sister organization, Al Qaeda in Iraq. AQI not only failed to embed itself in the local context, but had begun eliminating local opponents, fueling a revolt against it by Sunni militias in 2007. AQIM, by contrast, made a concerted effort to go native, marrying local Tuaregs in North Mali and taking up their political causes, such as secession.

The estimated 1,200 fighters causing problems in Mali today are operating in an area almost as large as France, making it easy to play guerrilla hide-and-seek. In the long run, the West should aim to help the Malian government to build state institutions and reconcile with its northern population.

In Algeria, security-sector reform – particularly greater transparency – is long overdue. After all, Western and other governments owe it to the families of the 39 foreign workers killed during the hostage crisis to find out if they could have been saved.

The families of the Algerian victims deserve the same from their own government. Then again, so do the families of the more than 150,000 victims of a civil war that began with the turn away from democracy two decades ago. As the recent episode has shown, that war continues to this day.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Project Syndicate

Image Source: © Reuters TV / Reuters

Egypt's Draft Constitution: How Democratic Is It?

Omar Ashour — Fri, 21 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0500

On the positive side, this is Egypt’s first-ever constitution-crafting process whose assembly was elected by parliament and not appointed by a dictator, whether in the form of a monarch, as in 1923 and 1930, or in the form of a military junta, as in 1956 and 1971. Unfortunately, this fact partly explains the current instability. Add to that the rise of a new political elite, mostly from the religious lower-middle classes, who have no ruling experience. Will this new elite turn Egypt into a theocracy via the constitution, as many in the upper-middle and upper classes who reject it claim? Or is this just a myth propagated by conflicting groups whose only commonality is being losers, either in the democratic game or in the revolutionary process?

As always with Egypt, there is no straight answer. It is true that the “no-to-anything” camp is composed of losers, in either the elections or the revolution. But it is also true that this camp include figures who could have done well under the Morsi presidency, including quite a few secular activists and intellectuals. It is also a fact that the constitution has a strong religious flavor, either in a straightforward way like in Articles 2, 4, 10, 44 and 219, or less so, as in Articles 11 and 12.

But to make things more complex, here is another fact: Compared to the 1923, 1930, 1956, 1958, 1964 and 1971 constitutions, the 2012 draft is the least authoritarian that Egypt has ever had. Whereas all the other constitutions guaranteed, on paper, a minimum of basic freedoms and elements of social justice, the 2012 draft limits presidential authorities and divides powers between the state institutions. In other words, high politics were touched.

In the 1923 constitution, celebrated as Egypt’s mythical "most liberal" constitution, Article 33 stresses the sanctity and the untouchablity of the king. Article 38 gives him the power to dissolve the parliament at will, without any restrictions. In the 1971 constitution, the president had powers almost equal to those of the monarch. For example, Article 77 allows the president to run for unlimited six-year terms. Article 73 gives him extraordinary sweeping powers to fight vague threats such as a “danger to the safety of the nation.” Article 76 is a constitutional farce, a 709-word article whose sole objective was to tailor an electoral victory for Mubarak’s son. Article 136 allows the president to dissolve the parliament when “necessary.”

Indeed, the previous Egyptian constitutions set the bar too low when it came to crafting democratic institutions. The only exception is the 1954 draft constitution, whose first article stated that “Egypt is a parliamentary-representative republic” and outlawed the prosecution of civilians by military tribunals under any circumstances. Of course, it was never ratified. Nasser and his junta wanted a dictatorship built around a cult of personality, not a state with functioning democratic institutions. Historian Salah Issa found the only copy of the 1954 draft in 1999, in the basement of the think tank affiliated with the Arab League. He wrote a book entitled A Constitution in a Trash Bin to reflect the sad story of constitutional democracy in Egypt.

So what are the problems of the 2012 constitution? Most of them can be wrapped up into three categories: the role of religion in the new system, civil-military relations and constitutional liberalism. Article 4 (proposed by Amr Moussa, a secular politician who served as Mubarak’s foreign minister and currently heads the Conference Party) states that the “opinion” of Egypt’s most prominent religious institution, al-Azhar, is to be considered in matters related to Islamic law. Article 2 states that the main source of legislation is to be the principles of Islamic law.

The keywords here are “opinion” and “principles.” The first is non-binding and the second is concerned with abstract positive values, such as justice or freedom. But Article 219 states that the principles of Islamic law include “its comprehensive evidence, its jurisprudential and fundamental bases and its recognised sources in Sunni sects.” For most of Egypt’s secular public, this language is incomprehensible, and — to be honest — quite scary. This controversial article was the brainchild of the Salafi members of the Constituent Assembly, mainly from the Nour Party. They wanted more than abstract principles and a clear article to reflect the “peculiarities” of Islamic law, as they understand it. The argument of the Freedom and Justice Party (FJP) of the Muslim Brotherhood is that any potential violations of freedoms or human rights based on an interpretation of this article will be outlawed by others such Articles 6, 8 and 9, which stress protection of freedoms, respect of rights and non-discrimination on any gender, religious or racial basis. Yet, Article 44 prohibits insults or “implied” insults of prophets and messengers of God. For many Egyptian secularists, this is a direct restriction on the freedom of speech.

Another major issue is the civil-military relations. Not only will the defense minister have to be a military officer (Article 195), but the National Defence Council (NDC) will also have a majority of military commanders (Article 197). This will effectively give the military a veto over any national-security or sensitive foreign-policy issue.

“If you put one of yours, I will put one of mine,” yelled General Mamdouh Shahin, the army representative in the Constituent Assembly, at an FJP member. The latter had suggested an additional civilian in the NDC: the head of the treasury committee in the parliament. His suggestion was rejected. And it was all caught on camera.

In addition, Article 198 allows military tribunals for civilians “when a crime harms the armed forces.” A list of specific crimes will be put forth by lawmakers in the next session of the Egyptian parliament. This law will probably be another tug-of-war between civilian representatives and army generals over the ultimate test of democratization: security-sector reform. But certainly Article 198 of 2012 is a downgrade from Article 20 of the 1954 draft constitution, which strictly prohibited the prosecution of civilians in military tribunals.

A third major concern is about upholding constitutional liberalism and its implications, which takes us back to religion. On one hand, the constitution prohibits parties that discriminate on the basis of religion, gender or race (Article 6) and is quite explicit on the equality of all citizens and the prohibition of discrimination between them (Articles 6, 8 and 9). It is also explicit on assisting women in their duties to “their family and their public work” (Article 10) and that the state provides “free motherhood and childhood services.”

“We wanted to help mothers in their two ‘full-time’ jobs: the family and their career,” Constituent Assembly member Essam Sultan told me. Amnesty International, however, claims that the constitution “blocks the path to equality between men and women [...]. It is appalling that virtually the only references to women relate to the home and family.” However, that last sentence is inaccurate, to say the least.

The Egyptian constitution is far from perfect at the moment. Certainly, if compared to the 1954 unratified draft or to constitutions in newly consolidated democracies such as Brazil or Poland, it will look worse. However, the alternative route of an elected constitutional assembly or the flat rejection without an alternative route (which is exactly where the opposition stands at the moment) do not guarantee a better product. So for Egyptians, the hard question is whether to accept an imperfect constitution now and then attempt to amend it later (only 20% of MPs are needed to request an amendment, and two-thirds for approval) or to continue on in the streets until something happens. And that something may or may not be better than democratic institutionalization with an imperfect constitution.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Al Monitor

Image Source: © Stringer Egypt / Reuters

Egypt’s Democratic Dictator?

Omar Ashour — Mon, 03 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0500

Mohamed Morsi, Egypt’s first-ever elected civilian president, recently granted himself sweeping temporary powers in order, he claims, to attain the objectives of the revolution that overthrew Hosni Mubarak’s dictatorship. But the decrees incited strong opposition from many of the revolutionary forces that helped to overthrow Mubarak (as well as from forces loyal to him), with protests erupting anew in Cairo’s Tahrir Square.

Morsi has thus been put in the odd position of having to defend his decision against the protesters while simultaneously making common cause with them. “I share your dream of a constitution for all Egyptians and with three separate powers: executive, legislative, and judicial,” he told his opponents. “Whoever wants Egyptians to lose this opportunity, I will stop him.” So, was Morsi’s “auto-coup” necessary to realize the revolution’s avowedly democratic goals?

The new Constitutional Declaration, the Revolution Protection Law, and the new presidential decrees have several aims:

To remove the public prosecutor, a Mubarak-era holdover who failed to convict dozens of that regime’s officials who had been charged with corruption and/or abuse of power;
To protect the remaining elected and indirectly elected institutions (all of which have an Islamist majority) from dissolution by Constitutional Court judges (mostly Mubarak-era holdovers);
To bring about retrials of Mubarak’s security generals;
To compensate and provide pensions for the victims of repression during and after the revolution.

While most Egyptians may support Morsi’s aims, a dramatic expansion of presidential power in order to attain them was, for many, a step too far. Given Egypt’s extreme polarization and distrust between its Islamist and secular forces, Morsi should have anticipated the protests. Suspicion of the powerful, after all, has been one of the revolution’s animating factors. Another is a “zero-sum” attitude: any achievement by Morsi is perceived by his opponents as a loss.

The anti-Morsi forces are sharply divided ideologically and politically. Nobel laureate Mohamed ElBaradei, a liberal reformer, has little in common with Ahmed El-Zind, the head of the Judges Club and a Mubarak loyalist. But the anti-Morsi forces that backed the revolution regard the price of cleansing the judiciary as too high, arguing that the constitutional declaration will lead to dictatorship.

Indeed, the declaration protects presidential decrees from judicial review (although Morsi stipulated that it pertains only to “sovereignty” matters, and stressed its temporary nature). It also gives the president emergency-like power to fight vague threats, such as those “endangering the life of the nation.” Only if the new draft constitution is upheld in a popular referendum on December 15 will these provisions be annulled.

But the opposition factions have not been adhering to democratic principles, either. Mostly comprising electoral losers and remnants of Mubarak’s regime, some aim to topple Morsi, not just get him to backtrack on his decree. ElBaradei, for example, “expects” the army to do its national duty and intervene if “things get out of hand” – hardly a compelling democratic stance, given the army’s track record.

Morsi's decrees have undoubtedly polarized Egyptian politics further. The worst-case scenario is street clashes between pro- and anti-Morsi hardliners. Historically, such clashes have often sparked civil war (for example, Spain in 1936 or Tajikistan in 1992) or brutal military coups (as in Indonesia in 1965 and Turkey in 1980).

For Morsi and his supporters, it was imperative to neutralize the Constitutional Court judges, whose ruling last June dissolved the first freely elected, post-revolution People’s Assembly (the parliament’s lower house). According to the Morsi camp, the politicized Court intended to dissolve the Consultative Council (the upper house) and the Constitutional Assembly, as some of its judges publicly hinted. Likewise, the sacked public prosecutor had failed to present any solid evidence against those of Mubarak’s security chiefs and officers who were accused of killing protestors, leading to acquittals for almost all of them.

As a president who was elected with only a 51.7% majority, Morsi needs to be sensitive to the demands of his supporters, mainly the Islamists and revolutionaries victimized by the security forces. But, for many revolutionaries, there were other ways to sack a tainted prosecutor and cleanse the judiciary. For example, a new law regulating the judiciary has been a demand of the revolution since its early weeks.

For Morsi, the dilemma was that the Constitutional Court could strike down the law, rendering the effort meaningless. He had already backed off twice: once in July 2012, when he abandoned his effort, under pressure from the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, to reinstate the elected parliament; and once when he tried to remove the public prosecutor by making him Egypt’s ambassador to the Holy See.

Morsi's “Constitutional Declaration” was a decisive – though undemocratic, polarizing, and thus politically costly – step to break the impasse. And, while such decrees have led to dictatorships, not democracies, in other countries undergoing political transition, none had a politicized judicial entity that played the role of spoiler in the democratization process.

Indeed, almost two years after the revolution began, Egypt’s security forces have not been reformed in any meaningful way. Now, Morsi, in his effort to force out the prosecutor, will have to avoid opening another front with the Mubarak-era security generals, whom he will need to protect state institutions and maintain a minimum level of public security.

The security sector may, it seems, emerge from this crisis as the only winner. It will enforce the rule of law, but only for a price. That price will be reflected in the constitution, as well as in the unwritten rules of Egypt’s new politics. This constitutes a much more serious and lasting threat to Egypt’s democratization than do Morsi’s temporary decrees.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Project Syndicate

Image Source: © Amr Dalsh / Reuters

From Bad Cop to Good Cop: The Challenge of Security Sector Reform in Egypt

Omar Ashour — Mon, 19 Nov 2012 00:00:00 -0500

After decades of abuse under the old regime, how can the civilian government of President Mohamed Morsi turn Egypt’s security apparatus into one befitting a new democracy? What are the necessary steps in overcoming institutional barriers to reform and creating an Egyptian police force in the service of its citizens?

In a new "Project on Arab Transitions" paper from the Brookings Doha Center and Stanford University’s Center on Democracy, Development, and the Rule of Law (CDDRL), From Good Cop to Bad Cop: The Challenge of Security Sector Reform in Egypt, nonresident fellow Omar Ashour discusses the political dynamics of transforming Egypt’s security establishment.

Based on months of interviews with current and former officers and generals in the police, army, and intelligence services, Ashour lays out the workings of the Mubarak regime’s repressive security apparatus and assesses current reform initiatives, drawing on lessons from other transitions in the Arab world and beyond. He offers a set of policy proposals for establishing an accountable, civilian-led security sector, ranging from a presidential commission on reform to new oversight mechanisms. Ashour cites the brutality and abuse of Egypt’s police as a key catalyst of the January 25 Revolution; the success of that revolution, he says, will hinge on effective security sector reform.

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Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Brookings Doha Center

Image Source: © Amr Dalsh / Reuters

Libya Must Complete Reintegration Process

Omar Ashour — Sun, 16 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0400

"They are armed I am not going to fight a losing battle and kill my men over a demolished shrine,” said Fawzi Abd al-’Aali, the former Libyan interior minister, before he “resigned” last August. He was referring to the armed Salafi groups that were accused of destroying Sufi shrines. One of the accused groups was the Ansar al-Shariah Brigade, which was quick to support the demolition, but denied any responsibility for it.

Ahmed Jibril, Libya’s deputy ambassador to London, has now accused the Brigade, headed by Muhammed Ali Al-Zahawy, of perpetrating the attack on the U.S. Consulate in Benghazi, which killed the American ambassador, Christopher Stevens, and three other U.S. personnel, as well as Libyan guards. Others have quickly embraced and promoted Jibril’s allegation. But the picture is more complex.

The Brigade denied responsibility in a written statement, as well as in a brief interview with its spokesperson, who at the time was in charge of guarding Al Jala Hospital in Benghazi. Like its statement on the destruction of Sufi shrines, it denied involvement in the attack on the U.S. Consulate, but stressed the gravity of the insult against the Prophet that putatively triggered it.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Gulf Times

Libya’s Jihadist Minority

Omar Ashour — Sat, 15 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0400

“They are armed I am not going to fight a losing battle and kill my men over a demolished shrine,” said Fawzi Abd al-‘Aali, the former Libyan interior minister, before he “resigned” last August. He was referring to the armed Salafi groups that were accused of destroying Sufi shrines. One of the accused groups was the Ansar al-Shariah Brigade, which was quick to support the demolition, but denied any responsibility for it.

Ahmed Jibril, Libya’s deputy ambassador to London, has now accused the Brigade, headed by Muhammed Ali Al-Zahawy, of perpetrating the attack on the US Consulate in Benghazi, which killed the American ambassador, Christopher Stevens, and three other U.S. personnel, as well as Libyan guards. Others have quickly embraced and promoted Jibril’s allegation. But the picture is more complex.

The Brigade attracted public attention last June as well, when around 300 armed members staged a rally in Benghazi, sparking outrage among Libyans. “We wanted to send a message to the General National Council members,” according to Hashim Al-Nawa‘, one of the Brigade’s commanders. “They should not come near the Shariah. It should be above the constitution, and not an article for referendum.”

But was the Ansar al-Shariah Brigade really behind the attack on the U.S. Consulate? The nature of Libya’s post-revolution armed Islamist forces is by no means straightforward. Salafi jihadism is not an organization, but an ideological trend based on the core belief that armed tactics of all kinds are the most effective – and, in some versions, the most legitimate – method of bringing about social and political change.

Last year, its adherents did play an important role in the removal of Libya’s brutal dictator, Colonel Muammar el-Qaddafi. Many subsequently matured politically, revised their worldview, and shifted from armed to unarmed activism, forming political parties and contesting elections.

The Libyan Islamic Fighting Group, for example, has produced two main political parties. Al Watan (The Homeland) is led by former LIFG and Tripoli Military Council commander Abd al-Hakim Belhaj. The other, Al Umma al-Wasat (The Central Nation), is led by Sami al-Saadi, the group’s former chief ideologist, and Abd al-Wahad Qaid, an LIFG military commander and the brother of the deceased Al Qaeda commander Hasan Qaid (Abu Yahya al-Libi). Both parties fared poorly in the election in July of a new General National Congress, with only Qaid winning a seat. Indeed, the GNC elections were in many ways a defeat for Libya’s non-violent Salafi parties (such as Al Asala), as well as for the post-jihadists.

Other armed Islamist formations, including Salafi groups, accepted integration into Libya’s new state institutions, such as the Supreme Security Committee (interior ministry) and the Libyan Shield Force (defense ministry). The National Guard, headed by the former LIFG deputy leader, Khaled al-Sharif, absorbed more than 30 brigades, mostly from the west and southwest.

But several armed formations, such as Ansar al-Shariah and the Imprisoned Sheikh Omar Abd al-Rahman Brigades, still reject the transition to party politics and integration into state institutions. These organizations are numerous, but small. Some were not invited – or given sufficient incentive – to join official bodies.

“Nobody asked us to join the army or the police,” Sufian bin Qumu, Ansar al-Shariah’s commander in Derna and a former Guantánamo detainee, said in an interview last April. “They did not even give me or any of my men a reward for fighting.” Bin Qumu has a small paramilitary force training in the Bou Musafir forest on the outskirts of Derna. He insists that if the head of the boy scouts or the city’s clan leaders asked him to disband the training camp, he would do so.

The tragic death of Stevens and his colleagues has engendered wide public outrage in Libya, adding to the isolation and de-legitimization of the armed groups. Dozens of Libyan activist groups have uploaded videos paying tribute to Stevens, as well as issuing statements against terrorism and Al Qaeda. One of the Muslim Brothers’ Web sites includes such a statement, and Libya’s Grand Mufti, Sheikh Sadeq al-Gheriani, also condemned the attack.

Two issues remain critical in Libya to prevent future tragedies. The first is the need to capitalize on public support and continue the disarmament, demobilization, and reintegration process that started under the National Transitional Council but was never completed. Second, the government must enhance its communication strategy.

Arab Spring governments condemned the outrageous movie smearing the Prophet of Islam, but they should have stressed that American official and unofficial bodies had nothing to do with the film’s production. Collective punishment and targeting the innocent is forbidden in the Koran in more than 20 verses: “That no burdened person (with sins) shall bear the burden (sins) of another” (The Star Chapter 53:18).

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Project Syndicate

Image Source: © Esam Al-Fetori / Reuters

Jihadists and Post-Jihadists in the Sinai

Omar Ashour — Wed, 05 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0400

"There is no animosity between the authorities and the Islamist current. The brothers in Sinai know this...and the [Rafah] operation in this frame makes no sense. It is a criminal act and we all condemn it," said Magdi Salem, one of the leaders of what was known once as al-Jihad Organization of Egypt. Salem, along with three others, arrived in the Sinai on a mission last week: to limit the scope of the conflict and isolate the perpetrators of the August 5 Rafah massacre, in which an armed group killed 16 Egyptian border guards and then infiltrated Israel. Why are the Post-Jihadists in the sensitive and turbulent Sinai environment? In fact, this is not the first interaction between Salafi-Jihadists and Post-Jihadists in that geo-strategically sensitive and marginalized peninsula, and it certainly won't be the last.

The uneasy dalliance between the Egyptian state and the jihadists over the Sinai dates back to the Taba and Nuweiba simultaneous bombings in October 2004. After that disaster, the State Security Investigations (SSI) and the Central Security Forces (CSF) had almost no information about the perpetrators and therefore conducted a brutal crackdown in North Sinai. They arrested around 3,000 people, and took women and children related to suspects hostage until the suspects surrendered. One of the detainees from 2004 reported, "they electrocuted us in the genitals for a day or so before asking any questions. Then the torture continues during and after the interrogations. Many of the young-men swore revenge."

A second wave of bombings hit Sharm el-Sheikh in July 2005. This time, an organization declared responsibility for the attacks. Al-Tawhid wa al-Jihad (TJS), Monotheism and Struggle, in Sinai was inspired by Abu Musab al-Zaraqawi's organization in Iraq, but most of its leaders and members were locals. The founder, Khaled Musa‘id, was a dentist from al-Arish City and a member of al-Swaraka tribe, one of the largest and most influential in North Sinai. Musa‘id was killed in a fire-fight with the CSF on September 28, 2005. Despite his death, his main contribution was transforming an ideological current in books and speeches into a real organizational structure, with a hierarchy and multiple cells in at least five cities or regions (al-Arish, Rafah, al-Isma‘iliya, Central Sinai/Halal Mountain, and Nakhla).

The offshoots of TJS went in different directions. All of them attracted new, like-minded groups and individuals. The largest faction became content with preaching Salafism and locally engaging in Salafi-style social work. This included arbitrating disputes on sharia basis and providing a range of social services. This is represented by the Ahl al-Sunna wa al-Jama‘a (ASJ) Salafi Society, the Legitimate Committee for Conflict Resolution in North Sinai (LCCR), and around five other smaller organizations. Another offshoot was more content with paramilitary training without engaging in any armed activities, whether in Egypt or against Israel. And a third offshoot did both the stockpiling and the training and then engaged in a series of armed operations, mainly against Israeli targets. Among those is Majlis Shura al-Mujahidin fi Aknaf Bayt al-Maqdis (Consultative Council of Holy Strivers Near Jerusalem), which declared its responsibility for attacking a military post in Kissufim in northwestern Negev desert with two Grad missiles.

After the 2005 bombings a second wave of arrests and crackdowns ensued. Many suspected TJS members and sympathizers as well as their relatives, acquaintances, and neighbors were arrested. "We met them in prison. Most of them did not know anything about ideology, theology, or jurisprudence. Some were illiterate and we had to teach them how to read," said a former Islamist detainee who was imprisoned with the "Sinai group," as they were known. "All what the actual TJS members have studied were three booklets written by Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi [famous Jordanian Jihadist ideologue] and this led them to go wide on takfir [excommunication of the ‘other']."

The Sinai detainees were mainly distributed in five prisons: Damanhur, Highly Guarded (known as The Scorpion), Liman Torah, New Valley, and Natrun Valley. Most of the interactions between them and the Post-Jihadists took place in those prisons between 2004 and 2009. The Islamic Group (IG), several former al-Jihad leaders, and independent, Salafi figures gave them lessons in Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh), creed (‘aqida) and the revisions produced by the IG and others. In prisons, some of the TJS members abandoned the core belief of Jihadism: that armed action is the sole theologically legitimate, instrumentally effective method for social and political change. One was led by Sheikh Hamadin Abu Faisal, the current head of the ASJ Salafi Society and allegedly one of the former TJS commanders. He spent 18 months in detention following the Taba bombing. "I owe the Sheikhs [in prison] for many things ... but I am really worried about the return of the old days," he said. By "the old days" he meant a brutal crackdown, part of it related to Operation Eagle (al-Nisr), a military-security sweep that resulted in the arrest of more than a 100 suspects and the killing of more than 11 (including the alleged leader of the Rafah operation). Some of the old practices showed up in al-Nisr, including alleged revenge arrests and settling old scores between security officers, tribal leaders, and Islamists. But the vindicated suspects were released much quicker compared to the times of the Hosni Mubarak dictatorship -- days instead of decades.

The worries of Abu Faisal and the volatile situation in Sinai sparked several recent initiatives by Salafis and Post-Jihadists. The IG has developed quite a comprehensive strategy to deal with the situation, submitting it to the defense and interior ministries as well as the presidency. "We are awaiting their reply and we are ready to help in any way we can," said Tariq al-Zumur, the spokesperson of the IG and the head of the political bureau of its party, Construction and Development.

But the perception of some of the IG leaders is controversial mainly because of the revisions and the "de-radicalization" process. "Those guys [specific leaders were named] signed the revisions and supported it. They are considered ‘snitches' by many jihadists," stated a former detainee from Sinai. Indeed, for many Egyptian and Arab Salafi-Jihadists, the fault-line between loyalty and betrayal is the stance on the revisions. Despite its major results in the 2000s, in the 2010s the processes of de-radicalization -- as endearing to moderates -- limits, and sometimes kills, the influence of the ones associated with it over any armed Islamist organization.

Al-Nour Party, the political wing of the Salafi Call in Alexandria took another initiative. Although they have a history of rivalry with the Jihadi current, al-Nour initiated a three-day lecture series of what can be termed as "Counter-Jihadism" and "Counter-Takfirism" events. Several Salafi figures and parties are intending to do the same. But their role will be limited to prevention, as opposed to mediation, due to the history and the ideological differences.

Mohammed al-Zawahiri is a more credible mediator for the Sinai Jihadists, but not for other parties. He also is preparing an initiative. A more generic one that goes beyond Sinai, the 13-point initiative proposes "mediation" between the various groups that belong to the Jihadi current and the "West." The objective of the "mediation" is to cease armed operations against Western targets and even to protect western citizens and interests, in exchange for releasing Jihadist prisoners in the West, and the withdrawal of western military personnel from Muslim-majority states. In its current form, the initiative is more likely to attract media attention on the September 11 anniversary, and less likely to convince decision-makers and develop into a serious mediation attempt.

On a local level, Sinai's Post-Jihadist and Salafi-Jihadist figures have established a local conflict resolution committee: the Legitimate Committee for Conflict Resolution in North Sinai (LCCR). The LCCR has been successful in arbitrating tribal disputes on Islamic sharia basis rather than the usual tribal norms. It has been the focal point of the aforementioned initiatives and efforts to ceasefire. But the LCCR has its own problems as well. "Everybody here has a weapon. Now the army arrests anyone with a beard and a weapon," says a local LCCR arbiter in al-Arish. "Sheikh Amin Abu Talha the coordinator of LCCR in Sheikh Zuwaid was arrested ... he used his weapon to guard al-Arish Church during the revolution ... now the media liars are calling him a terrorist who has been a fugitive for five years. They are smearing us," he said. Abu Faisal agreed and elaborated on other dimensions of the crisis: "Why is the media coming to us? ... they should go after the drug barons, the state security torturers, and the remnants of Mubarak's regime for answers."

The current crisis in Sinai is with tens of armed Jihadists, not with hundreds and certainly not with thousands. If it is not quickly contained or eliminated, it can become worse in terms of scope, scale, and intensity. But any of the models of armed organizations on volatile borders, like that of Hezbollah (full state-sponsorship), Lashkar-e-Taiba (partial state-sponsorship), or Chechen Mujahidin groups in Pankisi Gorge (limited state authorities) are not likely to develop. For the containment of the situation in Sinai, however, a centralized local leadership body, comprehensive disarmament, demobilization, and reintegration program (DDR) and a structured method of interaction with Salafists and Post-Jihadists to legitimate the transitions and limit armed dissent will be required.

Over the longer term, the Sinai Peninsula should not be dealt with as merely a potential geo-strategic security threat for Cairo. The policies and standard operating procedures based on such assumption should be revised and altered under President Mohamed Morsi. The sweeping crackdowns; discrimination against, and humiliation of, the local population; hostage-taking by security services; torture; and degrading treatment of the locals were practiced in Sinai, with long lasting repercussions even after the revolution. Similar policies were applied in Upper-Egypt throughout the 1990s and they had disastrous consequences, ending with the Luxor massacre of November 1997 and a long list of local vendettas.

In the last six decades, Sinai has been a decisive factor in Egypt's high politics: from the rise of Gamal Abdel Nasser as the new Arab leader in 1956 until the removal of Field-Marshal Hussein Tantawi and his generals of the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF) in 2012. It will remain so in both Egyptian and regional politics in the foreseen future. Under the first elected civilian president of Egypt, it is time to break the vicious cycle of the ad-hoc, reactive, repression-intensive tactics and begin the implementation of a comprehensive policy toward the Sinai that addresses both the short-term and mid-term security threats (with very specific features and targets including defining the threat, its nature, its supportive conditions, and the legitimate counter-tactics and counter-strategies). Additionally, any comprehensive policy should also address the long term developmental needs of the region, including the tribal, socio-economic, political, identity, and demographic dimensions of the problem as well as conflict resolution and conflict prevention strategies and alternatives.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Foreign Policy

Image Source: Reuters

Egypt's Newly Appointed Cabinet

Omar Ashour — Tue, 07 Aug 2012 08:30:00 -0400

Egypt’s first-ever freely elected president, the Muslim Brotherhood’s Mohamed Morsi, has appointed his first cabinet, and guess what? It is crammed with officials from the old regime.

Morsi’s government clearly reflects the balance of power between the president and the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF). But it also reflects the strategy of the Muslim Brothers to shift that balance.

Thirty-five ministers were chosen by the new prime minister, Hisham Qandil, seven of whom (including Qandil) were ministers in the previous SCAF-appointed government. Five ministries – information, higher education, youth, labor, and housing – were given to the Muslim Brothers’ Freedom and Justice Party (FJP). Other pro-revolution figures secured several cabinet portfolios as well: education, legal and parliamentary affairs, industry and foreign trade, and most importantly, the justice ministry.

The “power” ministries – interior and defense – were kept under the control of figures associated with the former regime. Field Marshal (and SCAF leader) Hussein Tantawy retained his post as Defense Minister, and General Ahmed Gamal al-Din was appointed to head the interior ministry, whose brutal behavior sparked the revolution.

Gamal al-Din’s uncle, Abd al-Ahad Gamal al-Din, was the ruling National Democratic Party’s parliamentary majority leader during the 2000’s. His nephew was a hardliner during negotiations to release political prisoners, as well as during talks to end the street clashes of November 2011. He was also a witness in the “Giza Officers Trial,” in which 17 policemen were accused of killing and injuring protesters in January 2011. He defended the policemen, claiming that the victims had been killed in “self-defense.”

Nonetheless, Ashraf al-Banna, a co-founder of the reformist General Coalition for Police Officers (GCPO), remains hopeful: “He was an effective deputy [minister of interior]...[so] we expect some reforms. The situation in the ministry is unsustainable.” But others, like the members of the more revolutionary Officers but Honorable Coalition, accuse Gamal al-Din of being a member of a powerful anti-reform faction in the ministry, dubbed “al-Adly’s men” (after former Interior Minister Habib al-Adly).

As for the pro-change forces, Minister of Information Salah Abd al-Maqsud, a leading figure in the Muslim Brothers’ media wing, will control a sector that continues to attack the group and Morsi, even after his electoral victory. The new youth minister, Osama Yassin, another leading Muslim Brother, was the de facto “security chief” in Tahrir Square during the 18 days that toppled former President Hosni Mubarak. He belongs to the so-called “iron organization,” a strong, committed faction led by Khairat al-Shater, the Brotherhood’s first deputy chairman (deputy general guide).

Likewise, higher education went to Mostafa Mossad, an FJP member who was in charge of the education portfolio during Morsi’s campaign. The labor ministry went to Khaled al-Azhary, a Brother who was deputy head of the Workers Union and a victim of police brutality in 2010.

For the Brothers, of course, everything could change if the government is dissolved after the upcoming parliamentary election. But, even if that happens, the experience, data, and knowledge gained will be of immense value to the Brotherhood.

Four other ministries went to pro-revolution and Islamist figures. Mohamed Mahsoob, a leading figure in the moderate Islamist al-Wasat Party who campaigned against the return of Mubarak-era officials, became Minister of Legal and Parliamentary Affairs. Hatem Saleh, the deputy chairman of the Civilization Party, which joined the Muslim Brotherhood’s electoral coalition in the last parliamentary election, was named Minister of Industry and Foreign Trade.

The religious endowment ministry, which influences the country’s main Islamic institution, al-Azhar, went to another of the Brothers’ allies, Talaat Afifi, the deputy head of the Islamic Legal Body for Rights and Reform, which comprises more than a hundred of Egypt’s leading Islamist scholars and activists. Finally, Ahmed Mekki, the former deputy head of the Court of Cassation, Egypt’s highest appeals court, will lead the justice ministry, which is in need of real change. Mekki is a strong proponent of judicial independence, and was dubbed “the revolution’s representative” in Qandil’s government.

Overall, only ten of the 35 ministries went to pro-change forces, with the other ministers a combination of old-regime figures and technocrats without any publicly declared political affiliation. But the choice of the ten ministries was strategically clever, given the Muslim Brotherhood’s coming battles with SCAF. All of these ministries represent low-cost, soft power: official institutions that can enhance pro-change forces’ capacity to mobilize, give them religious legitimacy, and remove the threat of judicial repression as they strengthen unofficial networks on the ground.

But the SCAF side is applying a similar strategy: strengthening its hold over the key power ministries. For example, in last week’s annual personnel changes at the interior ministry, many of those expected to be removed, owing to accusations of corruption, complicity in repression, or both, were not. A few were even promoted.

The struggle for Egypt thus continues. The “Second Republic” is yet to be born.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: The Project Syndicate

Image Source: Amr Dalsh / Reuters

Death of Suleiman: Egypt's Revolution Outlives its Torturers

Omar Ashour — Sat, 21 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0400

Faced with thousands of Egyptians in Tahrir Square in February 2011, the man responsible for the security of the Mubarak regime was reportedly asked what he wanted the protesters to do.

"I want them to go home," came his reply.

General Omar Suleiman, the former head of the Egyptian General Intelligence Apparatus (EGIA), Hosni Mubarak's deputy just before his ousting, and a former presidential candidate, died aged 76 in Cleveland, Ohio, on July 19, 2012. But his legacy will undoubtedly live on.

Suleiman was the head of the EGIA, the country's espionage agency, for 18 years between 1993 and 2011 - making him the longest serving director since the authority's establishment in 1954. General Salah Nasr, who is credited for building the institution and launching a "spy war against Israel", headed it for only ten years (1957-1967).

Suleiman's legacy is unique. During his tenure at the EGIA, many Egyptians believe that the principal mandate of the institution changed - from counter-espionage with a focus on Israel to counter-opposition with a focus on Islamists, a major change in institutional dogma. The EGIA reportedly began pursuing opposition figures locally and abroad, coordinating even with Israeli security services and reportedly torturing Egyptian and Arab citizens to extract information for foreign security services, most notably the US Central Intelligence Agency. Orchestrating such acts, Suleiman's name appeared in many US diplomatic cables, several of which were released by WikiLeaks. One "confidential" cable from the US embassy in Cairo described the relationship as follows: "In this regard, our intelligence collaboration with Omar Soliman, who is expected in Washington next week, is now probably the most successful element of the relationship." But the change of dogma and the resulting shift in behaviour implicated Suleiman in a variety of human rights violations. Activists and human rights organisations have accused him and his organisation of ordering or being complicit in torture, extra-judicial killings and extraordinary renditions.

Alleged CIA role

One of the most notable of the aforementioned violations is the case of Talaat Fu‘ad Qassim, an Egyptian refugee in Denmark who was a spokesman for the armed Islamic group Gama'a Islamiyya in the 1990s, and a former member of its governing council. According to Richard Clarke, then the head of counter-terrorism efforts at the US National Security Council, Qassim was taken into custody by US forces and handed over to the EGIA. He has not been seen since. Qassem's lawyers and family believe that he was executed in 1995.

Ibn al-Sheikh al-Libi (Ali Mohammed al-Fakheri) is the second most infamous case under Suleiman. He was a Libyan citizen reportedly captured and interrogated by the CIA, the EGIA, and other security services. The George W Bush administration cited the false information al-Libi gave under torture by Egyptian authorities as evidence of the link between Saddam Hussein and al-Qaeda in the months preceding the 2003 US invasion of Iraq.

When the information was proven to be false, it was a source of great personal embarrassment to Suleiman. Not only had he allegedly tortured an Arab citizen to extract information for the CIA, but he also inadvertently provided justification to the Bush administration for the invasion of Iraq. This is an addition to the apparent incompetence in assessing the information extracted under torture. al-Libi was handed over to the Gaddafi regime in Libya, which Suleiman visited in May 2009. By the time Suleiman's plane left Libya, al-Libi had allegedly "committed suicide", the Gaddafi regime announced.

"This is the bloody joke," a former member of the Libyan Islamic Fighting Group, who was imprisoned with al-Libi in Tripoli's notorious Abu Salim prison, told me in an interview. "Al-Libi is a religious man. He would never do that. He was killed by the Libyan Internal Security Services as a favour to Suleiman."

Intelligence and politics

Domestically, Suleiman increased the political role of the EGIA, a move which became quite apparent during the revolution. He led negotiations with various pro-change forces during the 18 days of revolution, including the Muslim Brotherhood, an organisation he had repeatedly accused of spawning terrorism. Suleiman offered the group a political "reform" package if the Brotherhood agreed to disband the sit-in in Tahrir Square. Otherwise, "you will face a brutal military coup", he told [Ar] revolutionaries in the meeting, according to famed poet Abdul Rahaman Yusuf.

Suleiman mastered co-option, intimidation, deception, and agent-provocateur tactics. And he was quite effective in using those tactics against Egyptian opposition, until the 2011 revolution. In the end, he was undermined by the revolution. He lived long enough to see a political prisoner from the MB as the elected Egyptian president and torture-victims as parliamentarians; still, he was just down not out.

Suleiman was notably not chosen to be among the 19 generals that formed the ruling Supreme Council of the Armed Forces. He belonged to a faction within the ruling establishment that believed that Hosni Mubarak should survive at any cost. If not, then an honourable exit, with immunity from prosecution, should be offered to him. This faction did not get its way and this ultimately affected the fate of the EGIA. The department of military intelligence, operating under General Abd al-Fattah al-Sisi, was reportedly granted some of EGIA's responsibilities and extra-judicial powers - most recently the power to arrest civilians (an order which was later rescinded).

Comeback bid

Despite this loss, anti-SCAF, pro-Mubarak loyalists considered Suleiman a patriot who did not abandon his leader. For them, he was a rallying figure. "The general [Suleiman] is coming back and he is going to silence all the dogs," one of his supporters told me in a small rally after Mubarak's spy chief declared his presidential bid.

This bid was, in fact, one of several attempts made by pro-Mubarak forces to orchestrate a "comeback". These attempts involved efforts in a variety of areas, including electoral politics. The level of Suleiman's direct involvement in such attempts, however, remains unknown. But he was without a doubt an active player until the end. During his candidacy, Suleiman threatened to unleash classified information from his "black-box" to foment political chaos. The EGIA had then to release its first ever public statement: a reminder of "Law Number 100 of the Intelligence Service", which bans political involvement of its members, and the release of classified information.

Despite the potential persistence of his legacy, Suleiman's death may herald the beginning of a new era. After all, Egypt is now seeing a revolution in transparency, accountability and freedom. Its ultimate test will be whether elected civilians gain meaningful control over the intelligence and security services. Suleiman would have stood strongly and effectively against that core of democratic transition. His death may herald the crumbling of yet another obstacle to the completion of Egypt's hard-fought transition to civilian democratic rule.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Al Jazeera English

Image Source: © Asmaa Waguih / Reuters

Libya’s Defeated Islamists

Omar Ashour — Tue, 17 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0400

“We certainly did not expect the results, but...our future is certainly better than our present and our past,” said Sami al-Saadi, the former ideologue of the Libyan Islamic Fighting Group and the founder of the political party al-Umma al-Wasat, which finished third in Central Tripoli during Libya’s recent parliamentary election. The man whom Taliban leader Mullah Omar once called the “Sheikh of the Arabs,” and who authored the LIFG’s anti-democracy manifesto The Choice is Theirs, accepted the apparent victory of Libya’s more liberal forces.

Indeed, the results raised eyebrows, even of those analysts who did not expect an Islamist landslide. In the electoral district that includes Derna, commonly viewed as an Islamist stronghold, the liberal-leaning National Forces Coalition (NFC), a grouping of more than 60 parties and hundreds of local civil-society organizations, won 59,769 votes, while the Justice and Construction Party (JCP) of the Muslim Brothers (MB) received only 8,619. The liberal-leaning Central National Trend (CNT) finished third, with 4,962 votes.

In the impoverished western district of Abu Selim, where many Islamists are seen as local heroes due to their sacrifices under Colonel Muammar el-Qaddafi’s regime, the NFC swept the field with 60,052 votes, defeating all six Islamist parties, which received a combined total of less than 15,000 votes. Overall, liberal-leaning parties finished first in 11 of Libya’s 13 electoral districts, with the NFC winning ten and the CNT taking one.

To be sure, the results will affect only 80 of the 200 seats in the constituent assembly, whose mandate is to appoint a prime minister, government, and a committee to draft the constitution. The other 120 seats are assigned to individual candidates, who are likely to be local notables, independents with strong tribal affiliations, and, to a lesser extent, a mix of Islamist and liberal politicians.

Moreover, while the Islamists were soundly defeated, they performed quite well in many districts. Across Libya, they took second place in ten districts (the JCP in nine and the Salafi-leaning Originality Coalition in one). In Misrata, the JCP finished second, after the local Union for Homeland Party, but still managed to win almost three times as many votes as the NFC, which came in fourth.

Nevertheless, the question remains: what happened to the Islamists? They spearheaded the opposition to Qaddafi, were advised by their Tunisian and Egyptian brethren, and larded their rhetoric with religious symbolism in a conservative Muslim country. For many, however, this was not enough.

A striking difference between Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood and Tunisia’s Ennahda, on the one hand, and Libya’s Islamists on the other is the level of institutionalization and interaction with the masses. In Qaddafi’s four decades in power, Libya’s Islamists could not build local support networks; develop organizational structures, hierarchies, or institutions; or create a parallel system of clinics and social services, as their counterparts in Egypt, Tunisia, Morocco, and Jordan were able to do.

As a result, Libya’s Islamists could not unite in a coalition as large as that of Mahmoud Jibril, the former prime minister under the National Transitional Council, who heads the NFC. Instead, their votes were divided between several parties, six of which are significant.

But another reason for the strong “liberal” turnout is the “blood” factor. “I am not giving my family’s votes to the MB. Two of my cousins died because of them,” Mohamed Abdul Hakim, a voter from Benghazi, told me. He agrees that Islam should be the source for legislation, and his wife wears a niqab. Nonetheless, he voted liberal: his cousins were killed in a confrontation in the 1990’s, most likely between the Martyrs Movement (a small jihadist group operating in his neighborhood at the time) and Qaddafi’s forces.

But many average Libyans, including Hakim, do not distinguish between Islamist organizations and their histories. For them, all Islamists are “Ikhwan” (MB). The “stain” of direct involvement in armed action, coupled with fear of Taliban-like laws or a civil war like Algeria’s in the 1990’s harmed Islamists of all brands.

A third reason for the Islamists’ defeat had to do with their campaign rhetoric. “It is offensive to tell me that I have to vote for an Islamic party,” Jamila Marzouki, an Islamic studies graduate, told me. Marzouki voted liberal, despite believing that Islam should be the ultimate reference for Libyan laws. “In Libya, we are Muslims. They can’t take away my identity and claim that it’s only theirs.”

Others factors had to do more with the liberal side. Jibril’s international legitimacy, his tribal affiliation (the Warfalla tribe includes about one million of Libya’s 6.4 million people), and leadership style, coupled with a broad coalition, served the country’s liberal forces well. So did a clever electoral campaign, which focused on incentives and hope (while also exaggerating the repercussions of an Islamist takeover).

The result was yet another paradox of the Arab Spring: a country that seemed to meet all of the conditions for an Islamist victory produced the sort of election results that liberals in Egypt and Tunisia could only dream about.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: The Project Syndicate

Image Source: Esam Al-Fetori / Reuters

Egypt Holds Its Breath: The Nation's Political Future

Omar Ashour — Sat, 30 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0400

“You are the authority, above any other authority. You are the protectors, whoever seeks protection away from you is a fool...and the army and the police are hearing me,” said Egypt’s president-elect, Mohamed Morsi, to hundreds of thousands in Tahrir Square. A man imprisoned following the “Friday of Rage” (January 28, 2011) took the presidential oath in Tahrir on a “Friday of Power Transfer” (June 29, 2012). But he almost did not.

Ten days earlier, on June 19, I was with a group of former Egyptian MPs in Tahrir Square. One received a phone call informing him that a senior Muslim Brotherhood leader was coming to announce that the group was being blackmailed: either accept the constitutional addendum decreed by the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF), which practically eviscerated the presidency, or the presidential election’s outcome would not be decided in the Brothers’ favor. An hour later, the senior figure had not shown up. “The talks were about to collapse, but they resumed,” said the former MP. “Hold your breath.”

The victory of the Brotherhood’s Morsi in Egypt’s first free presidential election is a historic step forward on Egypt’s rocky democratization path. His challenger, former President Hosni Mubarak’s last prime minister, Ahmed Shafiq, had no chance of winning a clean vote, despite the support of a huge state-controlled propaganda machine and various tycoons. “How many people can they trick, convince, or buy? We don’t have that short a memory,” a taxi driver told me when I asked whether he would vote for Shafiq.

Indeed, the Egyptian revolution has defeated Mubarak’s regime and its remnants three times since January 2011: first with Mubarak’s ouster, then in the parliamentary elections held earlier this year, and now with Morsi’s victory. And yet a military-dominated regime remains a real possibility. The series of decisions by the ruling SCAF just before the presidential vote clearly indicated that the military has no interest in surrendering power.

The most radical of these decisions was to dissolve parliament, for which 30 million Egyptians voted, based on a ruling by a SCAF-allied Supreme Court. The junta then assumed legislative authority, as well as the power to form a constitutional assembly and veto proposed constitutional provisions. It also formed a National Defense Council (NDC), dominated by the military (11 army commanders versus six civilians – assuming that the interior minister is a civilian).

Meanwhile, efforts to clamp down on protests have continued. The justice minister, a Mubarak-era holdover, granted powers to the military intelligence and military police authorities to arrest civilians on charges as minor as traffic disruption and “insulting” the country’s leaders.

Now the hard part begins for Morsi, who confronts an intense power struggle between the beneficiaries of Mubarak’s status quo – generals, business tycoons, National Democratic Party bosses, senior judges, media personnel, and senior state employees – and pro-change forces, whose largest organized entity is the Brotherhood.

The junta certainly has no intention of abandoning its vast economic empire (with its tax-free benefits, land ownership and confiscation rights, preferential customs and exchange rates, and other prerogatives). It has also no intention of surrendering its veto power, including over national security, sensitive foreign policy (specifically regarding Israel and Iran), and war making – hence the NDC.

In the absence of a compromise – and forces that can guarantee its terms – polarization can lead to bad outcomes, ranging in seriousness from Spain in 1982 to Turkey in 1980, and, most worryingly, Algeria in 1992, when the military regime’s nullification of an Islamist electoral victory touched off a prolonged and brutal civil war.

Although Egypt’s generals are by no means as threatened as their Algerian counterparts were in December 1991, they do have enough power to flip the tables. Depending on the outcome of the ongoing negotiations between SCAF and Morsi, the size of protests in Tahrir Square and elsewhere, and the degree of pressure from the international community, a deadly confrontation cannot be ruled out.

The most likely scenario, however, looks something like Turkey in 1980: an undemocratic, military-dominated outcome, but no serious bloodshed. In this scenario, the current constitutional assembly would be dissolved, and SCAF would form a new one to its liking. It would strongly influence the constitutional drafting process in order to enshrine its privileges. In other words, SCAF, not the elected president, would remain the dominant actor in Egyptian politics – an outcome likely to generate continuing resistance from pro-change forces.

The best outcome – resembling Spain in 1982 – is the most optimistic. After the Spanish Socialist Workers Party (PSOE) won parliamentary elections and formed a government in October of that year, the right-wing military establishment accepted the new democratic rules of the game and foiled a coup attempt that sought to block the advance of the left. The PSOE also realigned the party along more moderate lines, renounced Marxist policies, and led a comprehensive reform program, El Cambio (the change).

In Egypt, a similar scenario would enhance the prospects of democratic transition. But the SCAF leadership shows no inclination to emulate the Spanish generals.

The Muslim Brotherhood’s leadership, for its part, usually takes a risk-averse, gradualist approach to crisis management. Confronted by a revolutionary situation, however, that approach could be hard to maintain. Further progress toward democratization would require Morsi to keep intact the broad coalition of Islamists and non-Islamists that brought him to the fore – and to sustain its mobilization capacity in Tahrir and elsewhere.

Successful transitions from military to civilian rule in Turkey, Spain, and elsewhere partly reflected sustained American and European support. But, perhaps more than that, Morsi will need tangible achievements on the economic and domestic-security fronts to shore up his legitimacy at home. Otherwise, Egypt’s generals will not be returning to their barracks anytime soon.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Project Syndicate

Image Source: Reuters

Egypt's Innocent Murderers

Omar Ashour — Mon, 04 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0400

“Bashar should abandon power and retire safely in Egypt. The general-prosecutor is murder-friendly,” a friend, referring to Syrian President Bashar al-Assad, told me as we watched former Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak’s trial in the Police Academy’s criminal court. Although Mubarak and his interior (security) minister, Habib al-Adly, were handed life sentences at the conclusion of their trials, the generals who ran Egypt’s apparatus of repression as deputy interior ministers were acquitted.

Hasan Abd al-Rahman, head of the notorious, Stasi-like State Security Investigations (SSI); Ahmad Ramzi, head of the Central Security Forces (CSF); Adly Fayyid, the head of Public Security; Ismail al-Shaer, who led the Cairo Security Directorate (CSD); Osama Youssef, the head of the Giza Security Directorate; and Omar Faramawy, who oversaw of the 6th of October Security Directorate, were all cleared of any wrongdoing. Lawyers for Mubarak and al-Adly will appeal their life-sentences, and many Egyptians believe that they will receive lighter sentences.

The verdicts sent an unmistakable message, one with serious consequences for Egypt’s political transition. A spontaneous cry was heard from the lawyers and the families of victims when they were announced: “The people want to cleanse the judiciary.”

Indeed, many Egyptians – including senior judges – do not view the judiciary as an independent institution. “This is a major professional mistake. Those generals should have been handed life-sentences like Mubarak,” said Zakaria Abd al-Aziz, the former elected head of the Judges Club. “The killing went on for days, and they did not order anyone to stop it. The Ministry of Interior (MOI) is not the only place that should be cleansed. The judiciary needs that” as well.

The verdicts certainly reinforce a culture of impunity within the security services. The SSI and its departments were responsible for many human-rights violations, including mass-torture and extra-judicial killings, throughout Mubarak’s 30-year rule. When protestors stormed the SSI headquarters and other governorates in March 2011, torture rooms and equipment were found in every building.

Unlawful detentions, kidnappings, disappearances, systematic torture, rape, and inhuman prison conditions have all been documented since the 1980’s by human-rights organizations and a few Egyptian courts. Acquitting the heads of the SSI and the CSF (the 300,000-strong institution that acted as the “muscle” of Mubarak’s regime), after a revolution sparked by police brutality, led directly to renewed protests in Tahrir Square. “We either get the rights of the martyrs, or die like them,” chanted hundreds of thousands in Tahrir and other Egyptian squares. Sit-ins, reminiscent of the 18 days of January and February 2011 that ended Mubarak’s rule, have already started.

A third consequence of the verdicts concerns the empowerment of an anti-reform faction within the MOI. Based on my year-long research on Egyptian security-sector reform, this faction is already the most powerful.

Following the revolution, factional struggle within the MOI became public. “We have to save face,” said General Abd al-Latif Badiny, a deputy interior minister who was fired under al-Adly. “[M]any officers and commanders refused to torture detainees and were against corruption, but we need a revolutionary president to empower us and clean the ministry.”

Badiny was reappointed after the revolution, but then reprimanded in November 2011, following clashes between demonstrators and police that left more than 40 protesters dead. “He was advocating dialogue with protesters, whereas al-Adly’s men wanted a harsh crackdown. They got their way in the end,” says Major Ahmad Ragab, the spokesperson of the reformist General Coalition of Police Officers (GCPO), which seeks to establish an official police syndicate and reform the security services along apolitical, professional lines.

The verdicts will significantly affect two other processes: revolutionary forces’ capacity to mobilize, and thus to place pressure on the ruling Supreme Council of Armed Forces (SCAF), and the presidential elections. The objectives of those protesting the verdicts in Tahrir and other squares include: a judicial purge; a law that would ban Mubarak’s senior officials from holding political posts for ten years; new trials for al-Aldy’s generals; and removal of the general prosecutor (who was appointed by Mubarak).

There are also calls, still undeveloped, for greater unity ahead of the presidential run-off election on June 16-17. Such appeals range from demanding an immediate transfer of power to a coalition of revolutionary presidential candidates (although the mechanism is vague) to the formation of a united presidential front in the runoff, with Mohamed Morsi of the Muslim Brothers (MB) as President and left-leaning Nasserist Hamadin Sabahi and liberal-leaning moderate-Islamist Abdel Moneim Aboul Fotouh as Vice-Presidents. MPs have already called on the three figures to come to the parliament and negotiate a coalition.

The verdicts are likely to boost support in the runoff for Morsi, who split the Islamist vote with two other candidates in the election’s first round. Moreover, a significant share of the non-Islamist revolutionary vote will go to Morsi, owing to the absence of other revolutionary alternatives. The common saying in Tahrir is: “We’ve got differences with Morsi, but we’ve got blood with [Ahmed] Shafiq,” Mubarak’s last prime minister and Morsi’s opponent in the runoff. Pro-revolution, non-Islamist, and non-MB candidates received almost 9.7 million votes in the first round of the presidential election. The majority of these voters will probably now support Morsi, as opposed to staying home (the general drift before the verdicts).

The MB must still decide for inclusiveness if it wants to attract the support of Aboul Fotouh and Sabahi voters in the runoff against Shafiq. But, for now, Tahrir and other squares are once again uniting the pro-change forces, whether Islamist or not. The key challenge for Egyptian revolutionaries is to sustain that unity, establish a leadership coalition, translate their chants into concrete demands, and maintain the pressure during implementation. Egypt’s revolution continues.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Project Syndicate

Image Source: Reuters

Who Will Win Egypt?

Omar Ashour — Sat, 26 May 2012 00:00:00 -0400

CAIRO – Everything about Egypt’s revolution has been unexpected, and the first-round results in the country’s first-ever competitive presidential election are no different. The rise of former President Hosni Mubarak’s last prime minister, General Ahmad Shafiq, who will enter the presidential runoff alongside the Muslim Brothers (MB) candidate Mohamed Morsi, has raised eyebrows across the political spectrum. So did the meteoric rise of the Nasserist candidate Hamdin Sabbahi to third place, and the fourth-place finish of Abdel Moneim Aboul Fotouh, who was backed by liberals and hardline Salafi Islamists alike.

Egypt’s voters overwhelmingly chose the revolution over the old regime, and shattered the myth that the push for change is an urban, middle-class, Cairo-based phenomenon: the eight revolutionary candidates received more than 16.4 million votes. But their failure to unite on a single platform directly benefited Shafiq, who unexpectedly won 5.9 million votes (assuming no election-rigging).

Shafiq’s success shocked many revolutionaries. “He is a murderer. His place is in jail, not on top of Egypt after the revolution,” said one activist. Indeed, Shafiq has been linked to multiple cases of corruption and repression, including the “battle of the camels” on February 2, 2011, when Mubarak’s henchmen attacked Tahrir Square, killing and wounding protesters.

The rise of Shafiq is explainable in some areas, but raised eyebrows in others. In Upper Egypt, “more than 60% of Copts voted for him,” a source close to the Coptic Orthodox Church said, and in Coptic-majority areas, the pro-Shafiq vote exceeded 95%, because he was widely perceived as a bulwark against Islamism.

Moreover, many state employees (around 5.1 million of them eligible to vote) and their families supported Shafiq, owing either to direct instructions from their bosses, or to the perceived threat of creeping MB influence on government bureaucracies. And Shafiq received financing and support from Mubarak’s National Democratic Party (NDP), as well as from business and security interests that benefited from the status quo.

But this was not enough to explain Morsi’s defeat in the MB’s traditional strongholds. In Sharqiya, a bastion of hardcore MB support with 3.5 million voters, Shafiq defeated Morsi by more than 90,000 votes. In Gharbiya governorate, another MB stronghold, he beat Morsi by more than 200,000 votes.

I compared the results with the MB’s performance in the parliamentary elections earlier this year, and found that the Brothers lost between 25% and 48% of their support in the Nile Delta (depending on the area), where 40% of Egyptians live. Assuming no foul play, Shafiq received around two million votes from four Delta governorates: Sharqiya, Gharbiya, Munufiya, and Daqahliyya.

Egypt’s Islamists – the strongest political force on the ground, and the most repressed under Mubarak – have serious stakes in this election. But, rather than uniting to improve their chances, their popular support was split among three candidates, two of whom – Morsi and Aboul Fotouh – placed among the four front-runners.

Salafi support for Aboul Fotouh, a moderate former MB leader, proved to be a double-edged sword, because it repelled many liberals and socialists who would have voted for him otherwise. Most revolutionaries who did not want an Islamist-dominated Egypt were alienated as well. Their votes went to Hamadi Sabbahi, from the left-leaning Nasserist camp, who surprised observers by winning 5.4 million votes.

If anything, the first-round results revealed the power of the non-Islamist revolutionary bloc, as well as Egyptians’ willingness to punish Islamists for their weak job performance in the parliament. Indeed, six out of ten Egyptians voted for Islamists in the parliamentary elections. That dropped to four in ten in the presidential election.

Morsi, who finished first, with six million votes, had the MB’s disciplined, dedicated, and experienced machine fully behind him. That meant a sophisticated election campaign that penetrated deeply into Egyptian society, urban and rural, and in which women played a key role. “This is where they beat the Salafis. Their women are experienced, outgoing, gutsy, and trained to be convincing and charismatic,” a Salafi activist who supported Aboul Fotouh told me. “Salafi women are shy, introverts. They can’t compete for votes with the MB ladies.”

The MB must now try to persuade the 10.7 million voters who supported Aboul Fotoh and Sabbahi to back Morsi in the runoff against Shafiq. The MB probably needs to reserve the vice presidency for a non-Islamist like Sabbahi. Likewise, Aboul Fotoh, or perhaps the Nobel laureate Mohamed ElBaradei, will need to be appointed as Prime Minister. Moreover, the MB will most likely have to offer some concessions to guarantee balanced representation of Islamists and non-Islamists in the assembly that the parliament is to choose to draft a new constitution.

Whoever wins Egypt’s presidency will face severe obstacles in challenging the status quo, owing to the dominance of the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF). The president’s mandate was outlined by a constitutional declaration in March 2011, but the SCAF has said that a more detailed one would be forthcoming after the election. That could mean weakening the president’s powers and reserving some domains for the army – at least until a new constitution is adopted.

What remains certain is that no democratic transition can be complete without elected representatives exercising meaningful control over the security services and the armed forces. That will be the Egyptian revolution’s ultimate test, and the most critical challenge for any president who does not embody a return to the past.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Project Syndicate

The Rise of Islamists in Egypt and Beyond

Tue, 15 May 2012 09:30:00 -0400

Event Information

May 15, 2012
9:30 AM - 11:00 AM EDT

The Brookings Institution
1775 Massachusetts Ave., NW
Washington, DC

On May 15, 2012, the Saban Center at Brookings hosted a policy forum with William McCants, a Middle East specialist at CNA; and Omar Ashour, a visiting fellow at the Brookings Doha Center, who joined via teleconference. The discussion addressed the political rise of Islamist groups throughout the Middle East, especially in Egypt, in the aftermath of the Arab Awakening, and built on McCants’s May 2012 Saban Center Middle East Memo, “The Lesser of Two Evils: The Salafi Turn to Party Politics in Egypt.”

The discussion began with a brief overview of Salafism, in which McCants described an outdated perception that Salafis are divided between two camps: those who avoid politics and those who pursue violent revolution. Political Salafism is more nuanced and complicated, McCants argued, as illustrated by Salafi political participation stretching back to Kuwait in the 1980s.

The Salafi experience in Kuwait was one in which Salafis saw how, through political participation, they could protect their interests and formulate law. Abd al-Rahman Abd al-Khaliq, an Egyptian who resettled in Kuwait and established the Revival of Islamic Heritage Society, promoted Salafi political participation by arguing that while taking part in politics is certainly an evil, it would be an even greater evil to stay out of politics while one’s competitors are impeding on Salafi interests. This rationalization has been playing out throughout the Arab world in recent months.

In looking at Egypt, McCants noted that the Salafi Call, one of Egypt’s most organized Salafi groups, acted pragmatically by hedging its bets during the January 25 Revolution that toppled President Hosni Mubarak. It largely stayed on the sidelines, only issuing some statements that the protests could harm security—this tactic was largely based on the calculation that the benign neglect of the Mubarak regime was not something to upend capriciously, and there was much to lose by supporting a revolution that could fail. Once Mubarak fell, though, the group was quick to take part in the post-revolution politics. The Salafi Call’s participation in politics actually goes back to 2010, when it began to move away from quietism by permitting followers to run for or support candidates in that year’s parliamentary elections. Still the general hesitation of Salafis to enter politics is based, in part, on the fact that participation often leads to compromise, which over time may alienate many members. McCants believes this—the need to compromise versus the desire to stay true to the movement’s conservative social views—will be a significant tension for Salafi political parties going forward. At this moment in Egypt, Salafis are acting as pragmatic as any other political group.

Omar Ashour picked up on that point. “Pragmatism,” he said, is the key word. He noted a Salafi concept: if one can win a competition, one should initiate it; if one cannot win, one should avoid it. The Salafi Call has dominated the Salafi scene in Egypt, Ashour said, because its administrative and organizational structure is highly developed: the group first established itself out of a student movement at the Alexandria Medical School in the 1970s. The Salafi Call transformed this structure, which is active in education and charity, into a political base. Cairo-based Salafi groups did not have this organization, and they only began to create it after the revolution.

Egypt’s Salafi groups are actually split about which candidate to support in the upcoming presidential election—a divide that is largely based on whether the group is a centralized organization or not. Ashour said that Salafi groups that have built organizations, such as the Salafi Call, its political party al-Nour, and al-Gamaa al-Islamiya (the Islamic Group) all support Aboul Fetouh in an effort to block a bigger group—the Muslim Brotherhood—from dominating Egyptian politics. Ashour warned not to underestimate the psychological impact that years of state repression have on Salafi groups such as al-Gamaa: these Salafis are concerned the Brotherhood will collude with Supreme Council of the Armed Forces to bury them. On the other hand, Salafi groups without a centralized organization tend to support the Brotherhood’s candidate Mohamed Morsi.

The speakers discussed the impact of the Salafi’s rise on Egypt’s foreign policy, on the region more generally, and on the U.S.-Egyptian relationship. McCants pointed out that the Nour Party, the largest Salafi party, which holds almost a quarter of Egypt’s People’s Assembly seats, has taken a neutral position toward the United States. Indeed, its leaders have gone out of their way to stress the desire for relations based on “mutual interest and mutual respect,” using the Obama administration’s own phraseology. Ashour noted that Salafis have been driven by domestic concerns, and they are trying to formulate their foreign policy priorities, which are generally limited to conflicts in the Muslim world such as Palestine, Afghanistan, and Pakistan. Ashour said that most Salafis have an animosity towards Iran; one leader told him, “We have issues with Israel, but we have as many if not more issues with Iran.” Salafi rhetoric on these issues will be loud, but ideology is unlikely to influence political behavior.

One big question being considered in Washington is whether the rise of the Salafis will be a U.S. strategic threat. One participant suggested that their political gains may be unfortunate from a U.S. perspective, but the movement does not seem to be cohesive enough to threaten U.S. regional interests. McCants agreed with this point: Egypt’s Salafis have made clear their ability to be pragmatic and to understand national security issues. One threat could be if Salafi political clout creates a “conveyer belt” to support for terrorism; however, McCants does not think that will be the case. Ashour reminded the attendees that one of largest and most powerful Salafi countries is Saudi Arabia, a close U.S. ally.

Participants

Panelists

Libyan Islamists Unpacked: Rise, Transformation, and Future

Omar Ashour — Wed, 02 May 2012 17:51:00 -0400

Islamists played a decisive role in the Libyan revolution against Colonel Muammar al-Qadhafi. The extent of their influence in the new Libya has sparked concerns in the international community. Two days after the storming of Qadhafi’s headquarters in Bab al-Aziziyya, U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton called on the National Transitional Council (NTC) to take “a firm stand against violent extremism” – an apparent reference to Islamist fighters.

The project of state-building and democratization in Libya is beset by a range of factors, including lack of pre-existing institutions, weak security arrangements, and the political inexperience and ideological rigidity of many of the actors concerned. The spread of arms, decentralization of Islamist militias, and the presence of Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM) are all further destabilizing elements. Libya’s Islamists find themselves at the nexus of these challenges. Their role needs to be unpacked and better understood. The policy briefing is divided into three parts. The first section identifies the main Islamist forces in Libya and briefly overviews their backgrounds. The second part attempts to understand the salient issues facing Libyan Islamists and the effect they have on Islamist political behavior. The final section concludes with policy implications for the international community.

Downloads

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Brookings Doha Center

"Sunday" with Jane Little on BBC: Omar Ashour Commentary

Omar Ashour — Sun, 08 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0400

Since emerging as the most dominant force in Egypt's new parliament, the Muslim Brotherhood has not been able to translate its numerical advantage into anticipated political power, according to Brookings Doha Center visiting fellow Omar Ashour. This disappointment motivated the Freedom and Justice Party--the Muslim Brotherhood's political arm--to nominate Khairat Al-Shater, and subsequently Mohamed Morsi, as candidates for the Egyptian presidency. Ashour discusses why these individuals were selected as the Freedom and Justice Party's nominees and more broadly frames Egypt's ongoing democratic transition.

View the program on BBC iPlayer. For Jane Little's discussion with Omar Ashour, begin at 1:25.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: BBC

Libya's Muslim Brotherhood Faces the Future

Omar Ashour — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 00:00:00 -0500

"The Muslim Brothers established this party. We are a national civil party with an Islamic reference...we have Islamists and nationalists," said Al-Amin Belhajj, the head of the founding committee for the newly announced Justice and Construction Party. With the March 3announcement, Libya seems set to follow the electoral path of Islamist success seen in Egypt, Tunisia, and other Arab countries. After decades of fierce repression of the Muslim Brotherhood (MB) by the regime of Muammar al-Qaddafi, the formation of a political party in Libya is a heady experience. What does it mean for Libya's future?

The Muslim Brotherhood's presence in Libya goes back to 1949. But their first clear organizational structure was developed in 1968 and quickly froze in 1969 after the coup of Colonel Qaddafi. The Brotherhood was never allowed to operate openly, and suffered extreme repression. Indeed, when State TV did broadcast something about them, it was the bodies of their leaders hung from street lampposts in the mid 1980s. Qaddafi's media called them "deviant heretics" and "stray dogs." Fleeing repression, the Libyan Muslim Brotherhood was reborn in the United States, where members established the "Islamic Group - Libya" in 1980 and issued their magazine The Muslim. In 1982, many of the MB figures who were studying in the United States returned to Libya to reestablish the organization in the country but ended up in prison or were executed.

The Libyan Muslim Brotherhood made a comeback in 1999, and entered into a novel dialogue with the regime. Its rebirth was bolstered in 2005 and 2006 by Saif al-Islam Qaddafi's initiatives, which aimed to coopt and neutralize opposition groups, particularly Islamist ones. This led to doubts about their motivations during the 2011 revolution, charges which Brotherhood leaders reject. "No, we did not plan the revolution and we weren't playing a double game with the regime," says Fawzi Abu Kitef, the head of the Revolutionary Brigades Coalition in Eastern Libya and the former deputy defense minister in the National Transitional Council (NTC). Abu Kitef was a leading figure in the Brotherhood who spent more than 18 years in Qaddafi's jails, including Abu Selim. Indeed, from the outset, the Brotherhood was supportive of the NTC, with some of its icons joining it, such as Dr. Abdullah Shamia, who was in charge of the economy file in the NTC.

The Libyan Muslim Brotherhood modeled its new party after Egypt's Freedom and Justice Party (FJP). It is much smaller than its Egyptian counterpart, however. In 2009, Soliman Abd al-Qadr, the former General Observer of the Libyan MB, estimated the numbers of MB figures in exile to be around 200 and inside Libya to be a few thousands, mainly concentrated in the professional and student sectors. While those cadres will be critical for the movement and its party, they can hardly compare to the hundreds of thousands of the Egyptian Brotherhood.

During its first public conference in Benghazi last November, the Libyan MB restructured the organization, elected a new leader, increased its consultative council membership from 11 to 30 leaders, and decided to form a political party. In their party elections, Mohammed Swan, the former head of the Libyan MB's Consultative Council, narrowly defeated the former MB leader Soliman Abd al-Qadr and two other candidates to become the leader of the new party, the Justice and Construction Party (JCP). "Participation in the party will be based on individual, not as group basis," says Bashir al-Kubty, the newly elected General Observer of the Libyan Muslim Brothers. He meant that the party will not be a political front, and in particular not an Islamist front (like the Algerian Islamic Salvation Front). "They want it to be like the FJP in Egypt, 80 percent MB and 20 percent others...to be able to say that they are inclusive," says Jum‘a al-Gumati, a former representative of the NTC in London.

When Ali al-Sallabi, a leading Islamist activist once affiliated with the MB, proposed a National Rally Coalition to include the MB and other Islamists, the MB ultimately rejected the proposal. The objective of the MB at the moment is to have control over its political arm. It ostentatiously shuns alliances with ex-jihadists (like those of the Libyan Islamic Movement for Change -- LIMC) to avoid any international outcry. It will also reject initiatives proposed by ex-affiliates, like Sallabi, as this will send a wrong message to the grassroots and the mid-ranks. Domestic and international legitimacy, expansion of audience, and control of members seem to be the determinants of the Libyan MB's behavior in the current transitional period.

The emerging Libyan political scene poses several major challenges to the MB. Unlike the MB in Egypt and Ennahda in Tunisia, the Islamists of Libya have little history of interactions with the masses. The MB of Egypt had a third life from the early 1970s, and during the last four decades it worked hard, under hazardous conditions, to build mass support in universities, professional syndicates, unions, and on the streets. Ennahda in Tunisia is not much different, although the mass-support building efforts were frozen in 1990. The Libyan MB did not have any similar chances to connect with the masses. They also did not have the opportunity to build their organizational structures or institutions within Libya, or create a parallel network of clinics and social services.

Second, Libyan Islamists will have to deal with persistent questions about their commitment to democratic values, women rights, and toleration of others. The attempt to be inclusive was clear at the party's conference on March 2 and 3. Walid al-Sakran, non-member of the MB, was a candidate for the party's leadership and five women attempted to join the 45-member Consultative Council. Three were successful. Even if the leadership is committed to pragmatism, the grassroots and sympathizers expect the ideology to influence the behavior. The challenge for the leadership is to legitimate its pragmatic behavior, including coalitions with non-Islamists, to their followers. The presence of many of these groups in exile in the West earlier, and the experience in ideological transitions may help ease the tension between political pragmatism and ideological commitments. This particularly applies to the MB and the LIMC, but not necessarily to the local Salafis (who are more numerous than the members of both organizations, but lack a structure and leadership).

Third, the constitution crafting process will pose thorny challenges. The reference to the sharia as the principle source of legislation in article one of the constitutional declaration of August 2011 has raised a few eyebrows in the West and among Libya's liberals. A similar reaction happened when Mustafa Abd al-Jalil, the Chairman of the NTC, talked about the superiority of sharia and the legitimacy of polygamy in the liberation speech. The MB, the LIMC, and Salafi figures interviewed perceived this as a victory. "The laws of Libya have to have an Islamic reference and that should be enshrined in the constitution," asserts al-Kubty. "The issue of the sharia is settled. It will be the supreme source of legislation...there is no point in making this debatable or raising the Quran in Benghazi and Sabha," says Dr Abd al-Nasser Shamata, the head of the Crisis Management Unit in the NTC. His statement was a response to demonstrations of hundreds in Benghazi and Sabha demanding the implementation of the sharia.

If the Islamists win the elections of the National Assembly that will be held in July, as many analysts expect, article one is more likely to be upheld with some provisions asserting religious identity of the state. This will continue a process of political and ideological polarization that is already severely dividing the new Libya.

Authors

Omar Ashour

Publication: Foreign Policy

Egypt’s Revolution: A Year after Mubarak

Omar Ashour — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 10:47:00 -0500

“The time of Mubarak wasn’t bad. At least there were tourists and I can get by” tells me a taxi driver. “But how about the police? Did they harass you under Mubarak?” I asked. “Oh, all the time…God bless the revolution!” The conversation summarizes the attitudes of millions of opinionated, but politically inactive Egyptians, the so-called “party of couch” (Hizb al-Kanaba). Many of whom bitterly complain about the current political and economic conditions, one year after removal of Hosni Mubarak. But when you remind them of his era, they never miss it.

Security crisis, bad economic conditions, and a state-owned media campaign blaming the revolutionaries, their marches and sit-ins for such problems, have seemed to undermine the popularity of the revolution. But the high turnout on the revolution’s anniversary showed otherwise. Hundreds of thousands marched to Tahrir and other squares across Egypt. Marching from the upper-middle class area of Mohandiseen, I saw tens of thousands chanting “down with military rule” and “revolution continues” all the way to Tahrir square, a two-hour walk. When they arrived there was no space for them to enter. The square was full.

Institutional versus Street Politics

But who dominates Egypt’s politics currently? Three entities emerge: street activists, the parliament, and the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF). Following the Post Said massacre, in which more than 70 football fans died, the parliament started proceedings to charge the Interior Minister with negligence. It is the first time in the Egyptian parliamentary history. Massive marches and street activists sitting-in in front of the Interior Ministry have emboldened the MPs to embark on these proceedings, and more importantly to ask for a thorough security sector reform and restructuring. Several draft laws and initiatives in that regard have been in progress.

Still, the slow pace of parliamentary proceedings, coupled with the (mis)management of the SCAF, did not meet the expectations of the revolutionaries. Tensions are on the rise between institutional and street politics; revolutionaries who were not elected can still mobilize tens of thousands. And in the absence of a unified leadership and organizational structures for the street activists, tensions are likely to be the rise.

The removal and the trial of Mubarak, his sons and chiefs of the repressive security apparatus have all came as direct results of Tahrir pressures. The same applies to the dates of the presidential elections. To expedite the transition, the SCAF brought the dates from 2013 to June 2012, following Mohamed Mahmoud street clashes and a massive sit-in in Tahrir. After massive marches to Tahrir on the anniversary of the revolution, the date was brought forward again, with the official nominations being on March 10, 2012.

Street politics has therefore proven effective, but quite dangerous. Egyptians paid the price in blood. The parliament, as the only elected institution, will need to address three salient issues on the eve of Mubarak’s removal. The first is the security sector reform and monitoring. The second is the proposed package given to the SCAF to abandon reserved domains of power (legal immunity, economic autonomy and veto in high politics). The third will be dealing with street activists and channelling their energy. Those three inter-related challenges will determine the success or failure of the Egypt’s democratic transition.

Authors

Omar Ashour