Egypt and Tunisia, the two countries that led the wave of Arab uprisings two years ago, stand now at the edge of the abyss. The rivalries that preclude their forward motion, the divisions that tear them apart, are the inevitable outcome of the reluctance of their leading parties, the Muslim Brotherhood and Al-Nahda, to share power. In Egypt, the Muslim Brotherhood has broken every single promise it made about power sharing. Having gained control of the presidency, the cabinet and the parliament, the Brotherhood has pushed through a constitution that would further divide the nation. The other political groups, the ones that led the nationwide uprising, also known as the 25 January Revolution, are rarely consulted about the country's future. Mind you, the Muslim Brotherhood hopped belatedly onto the bandwagon of the Egyptian uprising. Why? Because it didn't think it would succeed. You may recall that the Muslim Brotherhood obsequiously attended the dialogue sponsored by late vice president Omar Suleiman, although all other political parties boycotted it. The Brotherhood's Freedom and Justice Party (FJP) used the ballot boxes to monopolise power, triggering a political crisis that got worse when President Mohamed Morsi issued a constitutional declaration that gave him absolute authority while curbing the prerogatives of other branches of power. No previous king or president, from Mohamed Ali to Hosni Mubarak, dared to curb the power of the judiciary, not until President Morsi decided to do so through a declaration that practically turned him into an absolute pharaoh. Adding insult to injury, a constitutional draft that was tailored to suit the Muslim Brotherhood was pushed through by a Constituent Assembly that was 95 per cent from the Brotherhood — after all other political groups withdrew from it. The draft was then submitted to a rushed referendum 15 December. The distaste of the Muslim Brotherhood for power sharing was clear from the beginning. It was clear in the speech President Morsi delivered to FJP supporters at Al-Ittihadiya president palace. Morsi didn't speak as a president of all Egyptians, but promised his supporters that he would deal “with an iron fist” with his perceived enemies. Is this the kind of language a democratically elected president should use? Isn't this a language more reminiscent of dictators — the likes of Mussolini or Pinochet? Then the president, acting under pressure, called the opposition for a dialogue regarding the Shura Council, parliamentary elections, and post-election policies. None of these issues had a bearing on the president's recent decisions, which remained mostly in place. The opposition, led by the National Salvation Front, refused to talk to Morsi unless he abrogated his declaration and called off the referendum. As tensions persisted, confrontations between supporters and opponents of the president led to the deaths of seven with dozens injured. One has to ask: Is Morsi any different from Mubarak? I cannot find any difference between the two, except that Morsi wants more power. That's why he immunises his decisions as he goes along, as if he were an absolute ruler. Everything the president did points to a desperate power grab: his first constitutional declaration, his second constitutional declaration (which isn't that different from the first), and his holding a referendum that can only deepen divisions in the country. The Muslim Brotherhood gets fanatical with religion when it suits it, and complacent when it suits it too. When Egypt used to borrow from the World Bank and the IMF under Sadat and Mubarak, this was deemed haram, or sinful. But under Morsi, a $4.8 billion loan from the IMF suddenly became halal, or religiously blameless. Brotherhood theologians simply rechristened the interest (deemed usury under Islam and forbidden) as “administrative fees”. Also, when it comes to Israel and the Palestinians, Morsi's policies are indistinguishable from those of Mubarak. The current crisis is pushing the country to the edge of the abyss. What is needed now is for the Egyptian president to retract his decisions and negotiate with his opponents from across the political spectrum. Common ground must be found, and guarantees should be given that no one will monopolise power in the country. In Tunisia, things aren't much different. Al-Nahda is denying its two partners in the ruling coalition any say in the country's affairs. The Congress for the Republic, led by President Moncef Marzouki, is thinking of pulling out of the coalition. And the Takattul of Mustafa bin Jafar, the president of the Constituent Assembly, is fed up. President Marzouki is rarely consulted on major decisions, Mohamed Abbou, secretary general of the Congress of the Republic, recently said. For example, the decision to extradite former Libyan Prime Minister Baghdadi Mamoudi was made not by the president, but by Prime Minister Hamed Jebali, who is from Al-Nahda. Another sign of the heavy-handed ways of Rached Al-Ghannouchi's Al-Nahda is the recent attack by the pro-government League for the Protection of the Revolution against the headquarters of the Tunisian General Labour Union (UGTT). The latter retaliated with a call for a general strike in four provinces, to be followed by a nationwide strike. In foreign policy, Al-Nahda's motto is “Tunisia first”, which is another way of saying that Tunisia has no interest in the Palestinian issue. According to Al-Ghannouchi, there is “nothing in the constitution that precludes normalisation with Israel”. When the Arab masses took to the streets, they voiced hope for freedom, social justice and democracy. They voiced hope for lawfulness, checks and balances, and better living standards. They also reiterated their wish for a pan-Arab foreign policy, one that is independent of US and Zionist designs. Enough with tyranny; this was the core message of the Arab uprising. It goes not only for past tyrants, but for current ones as well.
