Letter from Egypt

From Yasmina in Egypt, in the very early hours of Egypt's Day(s) of Rage.

(Yasmina, forgive the impromptu and selective translation...) 

Well, happy that you went down at noon?...

I am glad you’re here tonight.

The question provoked me.

Was it a picnic that I was going to?

Is it not a must for me to be there?

Or do I have a feather in my head?

And all those young ones out there; they’re, what?

Sons of dogs?...

But I did go yesterday behind my parents’ back…

All passion…

Anguished chants. “ This situation cannot go on.”

Would you believe, all these throngs… and no bissbiss,

no hisshiss?

People, old and young, with money and without,

wanting the same thing: to bring the regime down.

And how magnificent that,

“One, two, the Egyptian people, where are you?”

But then I had to leave…

Demonstrations in the afternoon picked up speed.

With my parents at home.

Feel the pulse, I thought.

“So what if I joined?”

Are you stupid, or have you gone mad?”…

I was about to go mad…

Are these people down there defending

a country not my own?

But then I did go down today, behind their back.

Everything is different.

Violence!

Security, security, security, everywhere.

Youth running.

Tanks.

Tear gas.

Disquiet in the heart.

The “wasps” came to push the crowds…

Tear gas.

Left, right.

Up and down.

Pac-Man like.

I walk…

Ambulances

Tala’t Harb…

Mohammad Farid…

Mohammad Basioni…

This is a fearful regime pretending it is not,

A clueless government pretending it is,

A crooked employee playing honest,

A grimy human being playing clean.

Today is not yesterday.

Chaos! Brutality!

...

The Original Arabic Text

ها انبسطتى  لما روحتى الظهر؟
بس انا مبسوطة ان انت مروحتيش بالليل؟
اسئلة استفزتنى, هو انا راحة رحلة علشان انبسط ؟ ده واجب عليه
ولا انا على راسي ريشة والشباب اللى بيروح يتظاهر دول ولاد كلب؟ هو مش مهم لو حصلهم حاجة? امال لو مرحناش مين اللى حيغيير.
للاسف انا روحت امبارح الظهر من ورا اهلى روحت وكان كلى حماس وقد ايه كل حاجة كانت متحضرة بنهتف بحرقة فعلا مش عاجبنا حال البلد. تصدقوا مع كل الاعداد دي ما حد عاكس ولا بسبس ولا حسحس. كل الناس كبير اوصغير معاه فلوس او ممعاهوش كان يريد حاجه واحده "اسقاط النظام  ويا سلام علي "واحد اتنين, الشعب المصري فين" ونشاور للناس فى بيوتها اللي بتتفرج علينا ملبلكونة ونشجعها تنزل وكنت بسئل هى الناس دى مستنية ايه علشان يبقى ليها دور وتنزل فالشارع, هما مبسوطين كمتفرجين, هما مبسوطين فى حياتهم وراضين بحالهم وحال الدنيا. وبعد شوية للاسف اضطريت امشى في نصف اليوم وسيبت المظاهرة امام محكمة النقض عند الاسعاف فى تجمهر كبير متسالم.
وروحت البيت وبعد شوية ابتديت المظاهرات تشد حيلها اوي عند بيتنا وبقينا انا واهلى المتفرجين.  فقولت اجس النبض
-         فيها ايه يعنى لو نزلت؟
-         انتي عبيطة ولا اتجننتى؟ ممكن في اي وقت يقلب بضرب
-         طاب حأنزل اشوف صحابى
-         لالا مافيش نزول خالص النهاردة
وكانت كلمة لا رجعة فيها, كنت ساعتها فعلا حتجنن, ازاى مش حأنزل تانى واكمل اللى ابتديته؟ منا شايفة انها سلمية, يعنى هما اللى نزلوا فالشارع بيدفعوا على بلد غير بلدى؟ هما اهلى مش مضايقين من النظام ولا مبسوطين فيه؟ ولا هما كبار وانا لسه عيلة؟
الحقيقة انا طلعت جبانة لانى مقدرتش اقف قدام أهلى علشان اغير فكرهم, امال ازاى عايزة أغيير النظام؟؟؟؟؟
و تانى روحت النهاردة فالخفا  وبالصدفة فى نفس مكان مسيبت المظاهرة امبارح, بس كل حاجة كانت متغيرة ووحشية.
امن امن امن بالشوم في كل حتة وشباب بيجري نحيتنا وواحد واقف جوه عربية مضرعة  وبينشن فيهم قنابل الغاز.
وقلبي انقبض... والدبابير جت تمشى الحشود ومجموعة امن ماشية تهش الحشود بالبنادق المسيلة. كان منظرهم زى pac man يمين شمال فوق تحت متبرمجين ومش فاهمين.
لاقيت ان ماليش لازمة انا مش جايه اتفرج على بهدلت شعبى, انا جايه اقول اللى فى قلبى.
ومشيت وعديت عربيات الامن:
 في الاسعاف:14 عربية
طلعت حرب : 8
محمد فريد: 6
محمد بسيونى 4
شوارع كتيرة معرفش اسمها بتوٌصل للتحرير ما بين 4 الى 8 في كل شارع
مطلع الكوبري يجى 15
ميدان عابدين يجى 16
كان فيه حوالى 150عربية حوالين ميدان التحرير ده طبعا غير المضرعات اللى يا بترش ميه يا بتنش غاز.
وجنب بيتى عند مطلع كوبري اكتوبر كان فيه 12 عربية علشان يمنعوا حد يروح التحرير.
ده نظام خايف وعامل نفسه مش خايف...
ودي حكومة مش عارفة وعاملة نفسها عارفة
وده موظف مش امين وعامل نفسه امين
وده بنى ادم مش نضيف وعامل نفسه نضيف

بس المهم انهاردة الناس اللي فالشارع اتغيرت, مش كلهم زي امبارح, الهمج والعنف ابتدى, يمكن علشان فيه ناس اتشجعت تشارك فعلا جعانة ومستبيعة وطفحة الكوتة.
وقد ايه كان فيه مخبرين و امن لابسين ملكى عادي , علشان يتوهوا ويقفشوا فالشباب من غير ميبقوا باينيين قوى.
25 يناير غير 26 يناير.
حتى انهاردة اتعكست مهو 25خلص وشكرا على كده ونرجع بقى نطلع الكبت
بس ياتري 28 يناير و 4 فبراير وسبتمبر و2011 حيحصل فيها ايه؟
ياتري حسنى بيفكر في ايه وحالنا ليه بقي كده يا مصر يا مصرياللى بتاعتى بس اتنهبتى واحنا بنتفرج.
العمارة اللى قدام مدخل محكمة النقض فالاسعاف اسمها عمارة الشواربى باشا بصوا عليها, ادخلوا مداخلها الاربعة, شوفوا الفن والزخرفة وانتم تعرفوا ليه يا خسارتك يا مصرياللي بتاعتى بس اتنهبى واحنا بنتفرج
مش عارفة اقول قوم يا مصرى ولا خلاص مافيش فايدة حاجة تتصلح وتتغيير. حنتبدى من فين ولا فين.

  قوم يا مصري مصري دايما بتناديك
رجعلى نصري وامجادى وحياة عينيك

The Larger Context (Part 2)

Islamism and the Tunisian Test Case

  

When Hazem Amin was researching the life of Abu Qtadeh, the mufti of al Qaeda in North Africa, for The Orphaned Salafi, he went to Ras al Ain, in Amman, Jordan, where the mufti grew up. During the course of an interview with one of the neighborhood residents, the gentleman explained to Amin that “religion here is the stuff of life.”

This statement encapsulates the remarkable achievement of Islamism over the past four decades. For political Islam has never been only about politics, but about social transformation—and hence the catchall “Islam is the answer.” The Muslim Brotherhood (MB) might own this motto but, today, millions of Muslims, many of whom don’t belong to the party, live by it.

That the Gods were smiling upon Islamism, whatever its creed, from the 1960s until well into the 1990s is a well-known fact. Had the US not embraced the trend to fend off Soviet influence; had Saudi Arabia not pumped massive amounts of money to saturate the region with fundamentalist notions, particularly its own Wahhabist version; had the mullahs not taken over Iran in 1978; had the supposed secularism of our dictatorships, monarchies and “republics” alike, not been so self-serving, dubious and capricious…Islamism’s hard work would have turned much harder.

And you’ve got to hand it to them, they did work hard: home-to-home, school-to-school, mosque-to-mosque, law-by-law, rich and poor, one veil at a time, until whole sections of Arab society imbibed and finally internalized the social and political precepts of fundamentalist thought.

The true  measure of Islamism’s success is this magnificent reach and not the specific clout of any individual politico-religious party.

****

A public arena divvied up between Islamic fundamentalism and the pseudo-secular Arab state: this is the dynamic that came to dominate the regional scene in the last quarter of the 20th century.

It’s hardly surprising, then, that in the latest (December 2010) Pew/Gallup Poll on Muslim Attitudes, pluralities of Egyptians (85%) and Jordanians (76%) approve of Islamic influence over political life, just as they do gender segregation (Egypt/54%, Jordan/50%), the stoning of people who commit adultery (Egypt/82%, Jordan/70%) and the death penalty (Egypt/84%, Jordan/85%) for those who leave the Muslim religion. 

It’s not surprising as well that all responses cut across age and gender: men and women, older generations and younger are more or less on the same page.

Extraordinarily, this mindset sits almost oblivious next to the respondents’ favorite form of government. Yep, you guessed it! Democracy (Egypt/59%, Jordan/69%). As if to say, these tenets are givens (mussalamat), matters of belief, where democratic practice has no say and no business.

I have my quibbles with the poll,* among them the unhelpfully small number of Arab countries (Jordan, Egypt and Lebanon) covered in it. Therefore, these results, although echoed in other studies, are best appreciated as qualitative insights, although it is hard to imagine, for example, how the Arab Gulf would exhibit more liberal inclinations.

Still what is instructive about the survey is the stark contrasts it reveals between societies that espouse different systems. In Turkey, a full 31% of respondents view Islam’s role in politics negatively, as opposed to 38% who view it positively. Moreover, the Turks’ aversion to gender segregation (13%), stoning for adultery (16%) and the death penalty (5%) for those who abandon Islam becomes all the more telling when juxtaposed against Jordan and Egypt’s keen support for them.

One does not want to give in easily to the temptations of oversimplification, but, surely, Turkey’s relatively stable democracy and the longstanding secular streak of the state are relevant factors in it’s notable lack of enthusiasm for these “harsh laws,” as the poll describes them.

(I would have liked to include Lebanon in these quick juxtapositions, but I still have too many questions about the research methodology for that country).

****

All of which makes extremely annoying the exclusion of Tunisia from the survey, for this first country to walk out on the so-called Arab order also happens to be the one state that insisted on its secular character.

Part of the exceptionalism of the Tunisian revolt is that Zine El Abidine Ben Ali was thrown out for bread and butter without any meddling from God and Crescent. Where other regimes were content to spar with fundamentalism all while incorporating quite a bit of what it preaches, the Tunisian one was vociferous about combating it everywhere it could catch it, along with all other forms of opposition. Which pretty much explains the near absence of any organized effort behind the recent street protests that helped flip the army and bring down the tyrant.

As Tunisians begin their baby steps into a suddenly unpredictable future, and as we watch how the wind will blow in other Arab corners, this difference between Tunisia and its Arab sisters may prove the most salient yet.

****

No one really knows if Ben Ali’s fall will turn into a contagion. If anything, Tunisia’s bad circumstance was still palpably better than that of its neighbors. Clearly, the answer lies just as much with the top echelons of intelligence services and armies as it does in the people’s readiness for serious (and necessarily fatal) action.

But since pundits are beginning to indulge again in ritual speculations about the Arab status quo, it seems necessary to remind those who are captive to stale conventional wisdoms that Islamism, over the course of the past 40 years, had in fact grown into a main fixture of it, in power (Sudan, Gaza, Saudi Arabia…) and out (Jordan, Egypt, Syria, Kuwait, Algeria…).

Track records are just as available for Sudan’s Bashir and Hamas as they are for the Palestinian Authority, for Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood as they are for Mubarak, for Jordan’s Brothers as they are for the Hashemites. There is no need for head scratching and conjecture here.

Needless to say, after September 11 and Iraq, you need not be curious about the kind of life Salafi-Jihadis propose for the Middle East.

This has been our Arab order for a long time now. If age has been unkind to it, it has been unkind all around.

Islamism, no doubt has considerable mass appeal, but these are not the 1980s, and success did bring with it extreme exposure. If walls begin to fall and the space that opens up is, in fact, allowed or forced to be capacious, Islamism, strong as it is, very likely will have to contend with competing forces, faint though they currently are.

So far, the 21^st century has proved anything but dull. Perhaps one of the more interesting recent developments of the past five years is the way energized civil societies have been surprising the powers that be, fundamentalists included. In these testy times, neither they nor the pseudo-secular states need feel entirely too comfortable should the time for change finally come.

---

* Most of the questions do not have more focused follow-ups; bizarrely, the questionnaires did not include definitions to certain concepts before testing them; and, most inconceivable of all, in Lebanon the team apparently conducted the survey in Hezbollah territory without a chaperone.

The Mutating Tragedy of Salafi-Jihadism (Part I)

On the murders in Alexandria and Punjab and Hazem Amin’s new book The Orphaned Salafi

In a region riven with violence, a silencer long favored by the state before it became an article of faith for the fanatically “faithful,” what’s a Coptic church bombing in Alexandria or a murder of a defiant Punjabi governor, Salam Taseer, who dared “blaspheme”?

Rack them up, reflex urges you, for these are only the latest distress signals from a chronically troubled people. And true enough, you can actually run a line of connecting dots from Gaza to Sana’a to Darfur to Nahr al Bared to Cairo, Baghdad and Kandahar. The common denominators are a few, the shared experiences many.

Confronted by an unnerving blend of low-grade hate and full-fledged mayhem, the predictable—and dangerous—reaction by many is a contentment to let thoughts float on the surface of seemingly inexorable events, because, well, this is the Middle East, after all.

And when a hideous act demands some kind of an answer, the habit is to dump it in the lap of extremists, be they—depending, of course, on who’s making the argument--in cahoots with or the duped mercenaries of foreign masters, renegades from otherwise nonviolent fundamentalist camps, or desperate individuals simply unhinged by an abundance of poverty, humiliation and tyranny.

It’s not that Extremism is the wrong answer; it’s just a non-answer. As an Arabic proverb has it, it’s like “explaining water with water.” It takes you everywhere and nowhere. When you utter it, it’s as if you’ve said absolutely nothing at all. Worse still, it’s a wonderful escape hatch. Walk through it and all you need to do is cut and paste the standard set of band aid solutions: symbolic goodwill gestures towards the victims, branding the perpetrators as alien to society and system, an orgiastic show of national pride and unity, anti-terrorism clampdowns and, always, blaming the outsider.

But there is something very specific and very disturbing to be said about the murders in Alexandria and Punjab and much of the violence in this heaving and burning expanse. And Hazem Amin’s just published The Orphaned Salafi (Saki Books, 190 pages), a fascinating collection of vignettes that frame and explain Salafi-Jihadism and those who gave it the kiss of life, says it.

Once you have implanted religion at the center of a society’s identity and value system in an environment that is as illiberal in its parts (homes, curricula, personal status laws, politico-religious parties, mosque…) as it is in sum (authoritarian polities), it is literally a very short and easy ride between mainstream and extreme.

Islamism, made commonplace, visceral and transcendent, becomes an ecosystem, a freewheeling democracy of a sort, where laws and norms and dos and don’ts are any believer’s business.  Under it, unifying civil codes are negotiable for some, anathema for others. Morality is an exhortation or a sword. The community (umma) is uniquely Muslim. Citizenship is an exclusive club membership, with privileges and pecking orders. The Other is potentially everyone but the blessed self and its silhouette.  Sure, there are Shiite nuances and fine distinctions between one creed and the other, but these are details that accessorize the essence.

In Islamism’s orbit, differences of opinion or strategies between, say, the ever so mainstream Muslim Brotherhood (MB) and more radical Islamist elements, or tensions between the state and fundamentalist activists are real but beside the point and misleading when exploring origins and exits.

Seen from this prism, Extremism is not an oozing wound; it’s a condition. It’s not a noxious smell seeping from the basement; it’s the musty air that hangs everywhere in a long shuttered house. You can’t lock it up or chase it away, but you can lift away those pitch-black curtains, open wide those windows and let in the light.

****

This is not what Hazem Amin sets out to do in his book, the overarching purpose of which is to pull the Palestinian dimension into the heart and start of Salafi-Jihadism. But this is what I walked away with.

Not that Amin’s purpose is not worth probing. The Orphaned Salafi is a whirlwind of traumas and their traumatized men, of birthplaces and early decisive encounters, of stations on the warpath and cities that became incubators for combustible converging trends, of ominous meetings bringing together fearsome duets, fiery shaykhs and brutal disciples mad about their faith and dying to shed blood in its name.

The language is Arabic, the style is smooth, the footnotes are a sprinkle and the research is devoid of any foreign input.

The elusive question is Salafi-Jihadism. Amin’s path to it is through a series of human portraits, and the names, the places, the influences and the situations that etched them.

The locales are between a lost Palestine and the shores of the Gulf, neighborhoods crowded with a people in exile and deserts swimming in oil and long immersed in an austere Salafi faith with a particularly prickly temperament.

The founding fathers are Palestinian men shorn of a home and a national identity looking for a community to embrace them as brothers in an inhospitable Arab habitat.

The destination is the Muslim umma, where rootlessness and “foreignness” melt in the all-encompassing embrace of Islam.

The nannies are mainstream politico-religious parties (MB) that offer sanctuary and span borders, and seemingly laical “revolutionary” movements (Yasser Arafat’s Fatah) eager to nurture every manner of Palestinian would be soldier. It just so happens the two are more than acquaintances; they know each other well from back when, during the days of Abu Ammar in Kuwait.

The mood is somber, the psychology latently “perturbed.” The self thirsts for an identity that transcends borders and is committed to radical change for its sake. Behind this agitation stands an inspiration: Sayyid Qutb, that most famous of Egyptian Muslim Brothers who was one of the first to call for jihad against a “heretical” Arab order.

Things are simmering. And, for Amin, as opaque and shifty as the environment that nurtures Salafi-Jihadism is, in the “Palestinian case,” three factors give it anchor: a “weakness in the original [Palestinian] identity and the others that followed it…a turmoil of values, and the Diaspora’s exposure to a wind coming from the desert and another from the river’s western shores.” (p.143).

It is worth serious consideration, then, that the first act on the road to global jihad was Palestinian Islamist Saleh Sarriya’s failed takeover of the Egyptian Technical Military Academy in 1974, in an attempt to overthrow Anwar Sadat. That the all-time rallying cause, when it finally comes, would be Afghanistan, thousands of miles away from Palestine, led by Palestinian Islamist Abdullah Azzam, “the first Shaykh of the Saudi Jihadi” (p.50) and of Osama himself. That Palestinian Islamist Abu Muhammad al-Maqdissi and Jordanian Abu Musab al-Zarqawi’s death dance would play itself out in Iraq. That Palestinian Islamist Abu Qtadeh presides now as the Mufti of al-Qaeda in North Africa.

Although there is very little room for larger contexts in Amin’s narrative, certainly one of the most compelling implications of his argument concerns the Palestinian problem itself. For those in the West who are still wondering about its true impact on our politics and its weight in one of this region’s most confounding dilemmas—global jihad--Amin’s is a very persuasive and original angle. 

But it is also in the way that he disentangles the skein of forces that give shape to these men and their mission that the reader begins to understand the real depth and breadth of the presumably fringe phenomenon that is Salafi-Jihadism.

It is therefore nothing short of illuminating to meet Mohammad Ibn Sourour, a Syrian Muslim Brother who brought Salafism into the Ahkwani (MB) house, and Nasser al Din al Albani, the father of Salafism in the Levant, both of whom helped nudge into one two technically separate faiths--Jihadism and Salafism. Equally, to know that it is to Mohammad Rifai, the head of the MB branch in Zarqa, Jordan, and Muslim Brothers like him that Azzam turned when recruiting Afghan Arab fighters for Afghanistan.

The Orphaned Salafi is bound together with such like threads. Amin, a Lebanese journalist with quite a few years on the trail of global jihad behind him, is surefooted in his insights but is a skeptical storyteller wrestling with a subject that refuses to keep still. Mine is not a review, though, and I am not a jihad expert. It is ultimately for those to argue with Amin over emphases and omissions, many of them not altogether inconsequential to the debate itself. Such as, for example, the degree to which Iran can take credit for the rise of Islamism within the Sunni Lebanese scene (of all ironies!) and specifically the Palestinian refugee camps--a major argument in Roger Bernier’s Everyday Jihad, and a total exclusion from The Orphaned Salafi. It’s intriguing as well that Amin does not feel the need to follow the money, an essential piece in any investigation of the spread of Salafi-Jihadism, even if his attention was focused on other dimensions.

Suffice it to say that Amin’s material is sure to make the field of Salafi-Jihadism even lusher than it already is.

Larger contexts next in Part Two.