Egypt's unfolding story involves two subplots which intersect, interweave, and overlap, but each has a life of its own. These are political Islam and democracy. Without political Islam, political rivalries that could have been settled calmly in other places wouldn't have exploded in a volcano of violence and fury in this country. The fight over political Islam is what many Egyptians, myself included, consider to be so paramount, so defining of the country's future, that it is matter of life and death. Democracy, meanwhile, is less controversial and easier to grasp. It is also easier for foreign diplomats, trying to tread ever so softly on our sensibilities, to discuss. That is why democracy, rather than the more polemic issue of political Islam, crept repeatedly into discussion of late, to our dismay. Democracy matters, no doubt, and it demands our fullest attention. But, for all its urgency, it is not a matter of life and death. When it comes to political Islam, I will argue that Egypt is breaking new ground — and that what it is doing at present will have a lasting effect on the entire world. Most of the Arabs, on both sides of the divide, take that for granted. Foreigners, including diplomats and journalists, don't seem to get it. On 9/11, 12 years ago, we learned one part of the story. We learned about the destructive power that political Islam can pack in its moment of fury. In Egypt, over the past few weeks, we learned about the destructive power that anti-political Islam can pack in its moment of fury. What happened in Egypt is extraordinary, but not unprecedented. Centuries ago in Syria, the populace rose against the Batniya — a fanatical sect which introduced the word “assassin” into modern vocabulary. The entire sect was massacred almost overnight — a terrible end and morally untenable — but it goes to show that there is only so much fanaticism people are willing to put up with. This was true eight centuries ago. It was true in America 12 years ago. And it is true in Egypt now. In the media, in the streets, in political parties, and even in government circles, the name of political Islam is dirt, and the well-intentioned politicians who argue otherwise (Mohamed Al-Baradei, Amr Hamzawy, rights activists) are not getting much audience. The backlash against political Islam may be immoral, and it is definitely unfashionable — but it was inevitable. In the end, the worst enemy of political Islam wasn't the invading armies in faraway mountains, nor the international sanctions on rogue governments. It was the middle class, the housewives, the pious conservatives, and the housewives who put their foot down when things went too far. All of this was bound to happen, and the Brotherhood knew it. The Brotherhood knew that it cannot rule without taking over the army and repressing at least half the population. This was its first bet, and it couldn't pull it off. Its second bet was to rip the country apart, divide the army, turn Egypt into a failed state, and then devour it slowly back piece by piece — Somalia style — and it almost succeeded. Plotting like a criminal, the Brotherhood had everything in place. It had the gangs with metal bars to handle neighbourhood clashes. It had the mobs with firebombs to go after churches. And it had the militants with shoulder-held armour-piercing weapons for desert battles. What it lacked was the public support to pull it off. The army — worried about itself primarily — saw through it. And the people of this country weren't about to allow it. Now, is it the people who pushed the army into resistance (coup-style), or is it the army who prodded them on? This is for historians to debate. Now to the repressed goal of our revolution, to the stick with which world public opinion has been whacking us of late: democracy. The story of democracy has come in many versions. Sometimes it was presented as a full-circle situation, in which the Mubarak regime is rising slowly from the ashes like a phoenix and we are all welcoming it with open arms. Sometimes the villain of the piece was a brutal army, complete with trigger-happy generals coming out shooting from the hip at peaceful civilians — while a frenzied and vengeful public called for blood and more blood. This is more or less the story as it has cropped up in world media of late — from New York to London and back. We can, of course, shrug it off as unfair, patronising, or condescending — for it is, at least to some extent. But this too was to be expected. In the Western thinking, profiling is of essence. Once you look overseas, all that matter is imagery — that and first impressions. For the Western viewer, the army is always wrong and the crowds waving flags in front of tanks are always rights. It is all an impressionistic scene, full of raw emotions and, if we are lucky, dashed aspirations. The man in the tank is always wrong, don't even try to argue. Stereotypes are powerful, and for now we are the villains of the piece. And, by the way, we are not exactly innocent. Even if not guilty as charged, we are guilty in many other forms: Our riot control leaves much to be desired. And, we have done anything really to pave the way for democracy. Our stunted democracy is not due to kinks in our political system. It is due to our lack of other things — such as education, awareness, a sense of fair play and a sense of civic responsibility. These are the things we failed to develop for the past few decades, and did nothing about in the past 30 months of distracted and disillusioned zeal. We have to find our way back to democracy, while keeping political Islam at bay. And this is not going to be easy. Often, we will have to beat the Islamists with one hand while cajoling the moderates with the other. We will have to write the constitution with one hand while reviving the economy with the other. We will have to invite big money back into the country while defending the rights of the poor. Our best is not going to be good enough. And yet, we have no other choice.
The writer is a freelance writer and author of Breakfast with the Infidels.
