Egyptian foreign policy is mired in an outdated mindset, as are its critiques, argues Bassem Ahmed Hassan* Lamenting Egypt's declining influence over regional politics has become a commonplace in newspaper commentaries as well as TV stations, especially after the American invasion of Iraq in 2003. Pundits frequently express nostalgia for the 1950s and 1960s, when Egypt was perceived as the powerhouse of the Arab World. Comparisons are made between late Gamal Abdel-Nasser's policies and those of the current leadership, with the results usually favouring the former. More often than not, the decline is attributed to a lack of political will to reverse the course set by Egyptian diplomacy since the late 1970s. While not underestimating the constraints and limitations imposed on Egypt's options as a result of its forging a strategic alliance with the US and pursuing a diplomatic settlement with Israel, the root of what some regard as a crisis lies elsewhere. In the 1980s some of the main tenets of Egyptian foreign policy from the late 1970s appeared to be being reconsidered, albeit cautiously. The early years of President Hosni Mubarak's rule witnessed a rapprochement with the Palestinians and most Arab countries, and a warming of relations with former Soviet block and non-aligned states that had been severed or neglected under his predecessor. During these years, Mubarak seemed to attempt to restore some type of balance in Egypt's foreign relations, an endeavour that came to an end with the collapse of the Soviet Union and subsequent dramatic transformation of the international scene. This was coupled with equally dramatic changes on the regional level, resulting from, among other things, Saddam Hussein's invasion of Kuwait and the ensuing American military intervention. Yet dealing with changes, discerning and seizing the opportunities they offer and pointing to and averting the threats they create, is an essential part of the job description of any policy maker. Why then, we can legitimately ask, were Egypt's policymakers caught dumb by major developments on the international and regional scenes? Why did they fail to take advantage of the decline in the fortunes of Iraq , Egypt's main competitor for Arab leadership, and of the Palestinians' decision to join the so-called peace process -- a decision that in the view of some vindicated Sadat's separate peace -- to secure Egypt's role as the region's main power broker? Why are the makers of Egypt's foreign policy now perceived to be more helpless than ever, capable of delivering only rhetorical advice when Israel appears weaker than at any other time in two decades, and Washington's project to transform the region has been dealt a serious blow in Iraq? Egypt's foreign policy and regional status cannot be attributed to just one factor; an array of reasons, some purely domestic, lie behind the debacle. One, that has received little, if any, attention, is rooted in the forms of knowledge and political, economic, and social models imported as a main feature of Egypt's modern(ist) experience, and that comprised the cornerstone of the so called modernisation of Egypt undertaken by Mohammed Ali and his successors in the 19th century. A critical assessment of this process is beyond the scope of this article; one can suggest, though, some of the consequences on the workings of what I would call for lack of a better term, the Modern(ist) Egyptian mind. It is a mindset bent always on looking for an outside model, ie a model outside its historical and/or social context, to emulate in the search for the most efficient path to follow. This is envisaged as necessary, in order to catch up with the most developed country (ies), which are perceived and promoted as the most desirable model for society to be organised. With most of their time spent on searching for models across time and space to emulate, policy makers and intellectuals across the ideological spectrum have little time left to examine the potentials and nuances of their present reality, and so seek sources of inspiration among their fellow citizens, whom they claim to be representing. One outcome of this search for blueprints to follow is a lack of imagination and creativity, among both policy makers and their critics from the various oppositional camps. In the area of international relations, stagnation has been cemented by the impoverished versions of realism that underpin most analyses of global politics. These forms of realism emphasise recurrence over change and reduce international relations to a single mechanism, namely the balance of power; essentially it is a crude version of the bipolar system in which two powers are trapped in what is portrayed as a zero sum game. Louis Awad, one of the most talented students of Egyptian modern(ist) thought, unfortunately epitomised this proclivity. In his celebrated study of the subject, Awad repeatedly argued that Egypt enjoyed prominence only when its leadership had managed to use the struggle between the two main powers of the day to its own advantage, suffering defeats and even occupation during times of détente and/or a hegemonic order. Large sections of the Egyptian political elite, particularly policy makers, Pan-Arabists and Marxists, felt like strangers in the new international environment that followed the collapse of the Soviet Union. They waited for the emergence of a new superpower to balance the US, something that, according to their gospel of international relations, was bound to happen. After a short, euphoric moment in which they celebrated the victory of the Quran over Communism, the Islamists joined the ranks of those hoping for the rise of a second superpower, especially after realising that they had now become leading candidates for the position of the Empire's main ideological other. The energy of all parties was consumed by speculations over the identity of the would-be second superpower, and the timetable of its rise, rather than trying to participate in the making of the norms that would govern the new international environment, so much so, that they missed the valuable lessons of the Yugoslavian tragedy. The dismantling of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia via military and non- military interventions by the international community was a watershed event. Unlike interventions during the Cold War, which focused mainly on overthrowing unfriendly regimes, the goal was now to draw new cartographies, and manufacture new states. Ironically, Egyptian troops participated in the international peace-keeping force in Bosnia- Herzegovina, though it escaped Egyptian officials, and their critics in the opposition, that the Arab World was for various reasons the most likely venue for the repeat of such intervention. While this might have been partly due to a sense of relief resulting from participating in saving fellow Muslims from their Serbian oppressors, as the purpose for the intervention in Bosnia was portrayed in the media, one should not underestimate the impact of the Egyptian modernist mindset's tendency to think within the terms of established models and patterns, limiting the ability of Egypt's political elite to detect emerging norms and foresee their future impacts. This reduces the options available, to either accepting these norms after they become parts of international structures, and working within them in the hope that they can be adjusted to serve Egyptian interests, or to openly reject them and risk being labeled a rogue state. Egyptian policy makers have usually preferred the first alternative, though more often than not they resort to redefining Egypt's interests and positions to fit the newly established norms rather than adjusting the latter to serve the former. The bulk of their ideological opponents, on the other hand, usually call for adopting what realists describe as revolutionary positions, which they fail to actualise. Egyptian responses to an emerging norm that supports types of intervention similar to those carried out in Yugoslavia illustrate the point. Egypt's official objections have been limited to hiding behind rhetorical affirmations of an understanding of sovereignty that prevailed during the Cold War. It is as if the meaning of sovereignty, or, for that matter, of all other international institutions, was static, beyond history or interpretation; by referring to principles that enjoyed popularity at a certain historical moment they sought to promote one understanding of sovereignty over all others. Not only did the Egyptian officials resort to this inefficient strategy, they also actively participated in promoting this new norm, contributing soldiers to the UN mission in Bosnia, and abiding by sanctions imposed on Arab states rather than trying to dismantle them, as a number of African states did in the case of sanctions imposed on Libya. It is worth noting that those opposition parties and groups, who did not miss a chance to criticise what they perceived as government incompetence in dealing with sanctions agasinst Libya and Iraq, also failed the test; they issued fiery statements and their leaders visited the two countries to have their pictures taken and deliver more speeches condemning imperialism and its Arab servants. However, one cannot point to any constructive effort being exerted in order to break the sanctions. Was this failure due to a lack of resources? More important than limited resources, in my opinion, is a dominant belief that foreign policy, if not all policy, falls entirely within the remit of the state. The role of the opposition is limited to pointing to the weaknesses of the policies adopted by the state rather than trying to take initiatives on its own and actualize its own ideas. This belief is a product of the processes that created the modern(ist) state in Egypt in the 19th century, a state that was to regulate everything pertaining to its subjects' affairs, including their morality. With the Arab World looking more than ever like a powder keg on the verge of explosion, it is frustrating that neither Egyptian officials nor oppositional groups seem in a hurry to change their traditional approach to foreign and regional policies. On the one hand, critics of the government sermonise about imperialism and the shared history and destiny that unite Egyptians with their brethren in neighbouring countries, while failing to come up with a strategy to either confront this threat or foster relations with other Arabs despite frequent meetings with like-minded groups from these countries. True to their understanding of realism, they place their hopes on Iran in order to balance the imperialist- Zionist threat. They have failed to notice, however, that they do not have much leverage to influence Tehran, whose attitudes to the Iraqi inferno and the invasion of Afghanistan have been far from fraternal. On the other hand, Egyptian policy makers never tire of championing stability and moderation. In the absence of a second superpower, they take the side of the US against whoever Washington regards as a member of the "axis of evil". Paradoxically, this means the Egyptian government had sided with the most revolutionary party in regional politics, namely the neo- conservative administration of George W Bush, which has clearly announced its intention to create a new Middle East. Egypt has retreated from its earlier rejection of this plan, unless that objection was limited to free elections, which have now ceased to occupy a central place in the international community's visions for the region, as shown by the US and EU positions towards the elected government in Gaza and the West Bank, as well as the demonstrations of the Lebanese opposition. More alarming, though, is the sight of Egyptian officials embracing a discourse promoted in some American political and academic circles that portrays the region as a hotbed of ethnic nationalism, and the stage of irresolvable sectarian conflicts. It is high time to change the approach of the Egyptian political elite, both officials and their critics, to foreign relations. This requires bidding farewell to habits long engrained. Among these is the tendency to depend on the existence of a bipolar system, before feeling sufficiently emboldened to adopt policies that might conflict with the position of a superpower. Egyptian policies should reflect Egypt's long term interests in the region and should not be allowed to be taken hostage by partisan politics in Washington. Ending the import of discourses on the region produced in Western think tanks and academic circles is of utmost importance. This is not to imply that these circles automatically harbour anti-Arab or anti-Muslim sentiments, or are a breeding ground for conspiracies against the peoples of the region; quite the contrary, American and European universities host some of the most vocal supporters of Arab causes. But one should not underestimate the influence exerted by Orientalism as a discourse, almost 30 years after its deconstruction by the late Edward Said, over the views of many good-intentioned academics in the West. Much could, and needs to be done, in order to improve the performance of Egyptian diplomacy. However, conventional diplomatic tools are not enough to face the challenges of importation and Orientalism. Strengthening domestic research on international relations and area studies is essential. Establishing and nurturing ties between this research community and its counterparts in neighbouring countries is also necerssary. This should be done, without such ties being conditional on the state of Egypt's political relations with its neighbours. This is vital, so as to avoid the problems that stem from imported (mis)representations. Nor should these efforts be limited to Arab countries; they should also extend to include key regional powers such as Turkey, Iran and Ethiopia. In the same vein, the languages of these countries, and the discussions of their cultures and histories should be included in the pre-university education, which is still dominated by a Eurocentric view of the world. The key component, however, to overcoming what is perceived as a crisis of Egyptian foreign policy and the decline in regional influences, is to find a new vision, or idea, that will guide relations between the various communities and states of the region, and beyond. Such a vision should not aim to entrap the people of the region in oppositional dichotomies, or regard difference as a source of threat, or reason for enmity or exclusion. This new vision, whatever its contents might be, should be an outcome of public debates and deliberations in which not only "experts", but also laypeople participate. This, in itself, would be a major departure from the Egyptian modern(ist) experience, in which the former has always enjoyed a monopoly over decision making, while the costs have been borne by the latter. Moreover, formulating Egyptian national interests in such a manner, rather than treating them as given, is more likely to mobilise the various sectors of society to participate in implementing the policies that promote them. The best means, however, to advocate a new vision is to practice it in domestic politics as well, rather than continuing to subscribe to the "inside/outside" dichotomy, which is another realist construction. In this regard, it is not totally off the mark to suggest that the gap between calls by Egyptian statesmen to solve regional conflicts peacefully, and to respect international law and the manner in which Egyptian domestic politics are conducted, has contributed to Egypt's current regional status, and, subsequently, the crisis in its foreign policy. * The writer is currently an instructor at the University of Denver.
