As somewhat muted congratulations from world leaders pour into Abdel Fattah al-Sisi’s office, one cannot help but wonder how much there really is to celebrate for both Sisi and ordinary Egyptians alike. Many Egyptians celebrated Sisi’s electoral victory in Tahrir Square upon its announcement, and posters, pictures and other Sisi iconography remain prevalent on the streets. Sisi himself, in his post-election speech thanked the Egyptian people and military, insisting, “The future is a clean page. We can fill it with bread, social justice and dignity”.
Yet, despite these celebratory remarks, it is questionable whether Egyptians will have much to celebrate under an increasingly repressive and violent regime that continues the same neoliberal economic policies of its predecessors which impoverished the majority of Egyptians. Furthermore, despite claims of security and stability, the cracks of Sisi’s instability and insecurity are becoming increasingly apparent.
During the elections which ran from 26 till 28 May, Sisi, the retired Field Marshal and former head of military intelligence, was elected president of Egypt with over 96% of the vote. Eventually, voter turnout was declared to be 47,5%. However, this was only after a sustained and intense campaign to get Egyptians into the voting booths, for the 6th time in three years.
With voter turnout reaching a miserly 12% by the afternoon of the second day, the Presidential Election Committee suddenly announced an additional third day of elections, arguing that hot weather had deterred people from voting.
This announcement followed a series of measures desperately put in place to encourage Egyptians to vote: the second day of elections was declared a state holiday, train fares were waived so people could travel to polling stations for free, a fine of 500LE had been imposed on non-voters, and Sisi supporters knocked on doors in the villagesof Sinai to ‘encourage’ people to vote. The regime-friendly media also did its part, with airwaves filled with TV anchors castigating non-voters in lurid terms. Some presenters went so far as to say, “Any woman who goes shopping instead of voting should be shot or shoot herself.”
With Sisi’s electoral victory a foregone conclusion – not least because his only opponent, Hamdeen Sabahi, did not offer significant policy differences – the low turnout nevertheless clearly worried the regime. A high voter turnout for Sisi’s electoral victory would bolster the perceived legitimacy of last summer's coup that removed Mohamed Mursi. It would also strengthen the message the army has been seeking to reinforce since 30 June, namely that it is acting in the name of the people.
Yet, what the 2014 election suggests is that Sisi and his army-led regime do not have unconditional popular support. Sisi’s numerous backers can be broken down into several constituencies, ranging from Mubarak-era holdovers (fuloul) aiming to retain their privilege, to nationalists fearful of Islamism, to those hit hard by economic instability. The last category includes many poor Egyptians and those segments of the middle class whose fortunes declined under Mubarak’s privatization schemes and who now crave recovery of their purchasing power.
Some pro-Sisi forces -- primarily the security forces, entrenched state bureaucrats and elites so anti-Islamist they are almost Ikhwanophobic -- can be relied upon. The allegiance of other strata, however, particularly the poor and the impoverished middle classes, is likely to depend on the president’s performance both in restoring stability and in bringing better economic times.
It is far from clear, however, that stability is what Sisi voters will get: the foundations upon which the reconfigured regime rests make it impossible for the new president to address Egypt’s fundamental social and economic problems, leaving the regime brittle, if not necessarily fragile.
Firstly, the post-Mubarak era has seen the popularity of various political actors rapidly wax and wane. The army was fêted in February 2011 for removing Mubarak, but by November public opinion had turned against the generals, forcing them to permit fair parliamentary and presidential elections. In December 2012, Muhammad Mursi awarded himself sweeping powers and confidently put up a controversial constitution for approval in a referendum. And yet, by the succeeding summer he had been removed in a coup backed by a large part of the population.
The Sisi regime is more precarious still. Egypt’s predicament is rooted first and foremost in its dire economic straits, but neither the armed forces nor other core components of the regime have promising ideas on this front. Indeed, Reuters reported on June 6 that the regime has enlisted American consulting firms to broker a rapprochement with the International Monetary Fund, whose neoliberal recommendations Mursi could not stomach, knowing their contribution to Mubarak’s downfall. The Gulf states that have bankrolled the post-Mursi regimes are pushing the IMF option as a way to curtail their own cash infusions into Egypt.
Secondly, authoritarian regimes routinely adopt repressive measures in the belief they will dissuade and disperse opposition. In the long term, however, these tactics always generate blowback.
One of the regime’s basic responses in a crisis is to identify internal and external enemies as the source of trouble in order to justify internal repression. But since Mursi was removed, the regime’s crackdown has made even the excesses of Mubarak’s detested regime pale by comparison.
“Security” has become a mantra authorities invoke to cast any and all dissent as akin to treason. The security forces have killed well over one thousand protesters since the army took power in July 2013. Moreover, while under Mubarak the number of political detainees peaked at around 14,000, the WikiThawra project estimates that since the coup security forces have detained more than 41,000 people. [1] Riding a wave of hyper-nationalism, this assault has targeted icons like Mahir, Abdel Fattah and al-Masry, as well as hundreds of (mostly Islamist-leaning) university students opposed to the coup. But it is not just anti-government activists who are singled out for punishments intended to set an example. It seems that the new “standard” punishment public protests is a two-year prison sentence and a fine of 100,000LE ($14,000) – steep even for students from Egypt’s elites. Many other students have been arbitrarily expelled.
Paradoxically, however, the army’s coup and subsequent clampdown may have resurrected the Muslim Brothers’ reputation. The Brothers’ own authoritarian behavior in power sent their popularity and their democratic credibility tumbling. Now, the Brothers’ forcible removal from office and persecution has allowed them to present themselves as paladins of democracy. If the army’s indiscriminate repression continues, Islamists, leftists, liberals and others may find incentives to form a common front against the regime once more.
Thirdly, the regime has made heavy use of propaganda. But propaganda only goes so far before the expectations it raises come back to haunt its authors. Already pro-army media are showing signs of caution. These outlets helped to concoct a cult of personality with a bewildering iconography ranging from Sisi cakes to Sisi lingerie. Now, the same media try to dampen expectations. This circumspection indicates considerable concern about the staying power of the consensus behind Sisi and the army.
Finally, while it may be useful in the short term to paint Sisi as commander-in-chief of an Egyptian “war on terror,” he may wish to shed that label if the springtime spate of armed attacks on high-ranking police officers and sensitive installations persists. Arguably, the objective difficulty of ‘pacifying’ the Sinai, for example, is the reason why even old army hardliners such as Tantawi and Mubarak himself were careful to try and avoid being drawn into a War on Terror.
Today, while Egypt’s regime has made “security” its watchword, there is little sign that security is improving. Workers continue to stop the “wheel of production” in protest against terrible working conditions, and anti-government protests at universities scarcely paused for end-of-semester exams. Meanwhile, cities face night-time partitions, with many more roadblocks and police checkpoints than were ever present under Mubarak. The more the regime tries to emphasize security, the more the population as a whole feels insecure. These are all weaknesses for a regime intent on showing its ferocity. [2]
The army’s fundamental problem is that it needs to foster a lasting consensus behind its rule, but cannot hope to meet the expectations such consensus requires. Now, as under Mubarak, economic inequality and political disenfranchisement generate instability. Now, as then, instead of confronting such deep-seated problems with the seriousness of purpose they demand, successive governments respond with a toxic mix of hyper-nationalism and brute force. While this retrenchment will work in the short run, the army’s inability to respond to popular demands -- bread, freedom and social justice -- leaves the emerging regime fierce, outwardly appearing strong, but potentially as brittle as its predecessor. The army-led regime has shouldered the boulder of stability to the top of the hill, but because this rock rests on a plateau of manufactured consensus, eventually it will tumble back down.
