The furore surrounding land allocation should not blind us to the successes of urban development projects spearheaded by the private sector, writes Abdel-Moneim Said Treading through a minefield is no easy task. When the minefield consists of a chorus of unanimous opinion on some crucial subject or other in the press, Internet blogs and the morning and evening talk shows, silence often seems the best policy. But independent thinkers would fail in their duty if they did not speak out when necessary, and audiences would be guilty of a similar failure if they did not at least lend an ear to a contrary opinion. For some time now talk about the sale of land to foreigners and private investors and companies both at home and abroad has been growing in volume and, it must be said, hysteria. The subject has been the source of a constant hum of insinuation and innuendo, punctuated by sudden uproars over some incident or another. Last week occasioned a veritable tempest. Barely a word could be said without the subject of corruption in land investment somehow elbowing its way into the conversation. Viewers of television talk shows might be forgiven for believing not a square inch of Egyptian land had escaped the stink of crookedness and cronyism. Before proceeding further let me insert a word of caution. In all such matters the law must reign supreme. And in order to keep bad faith and ill intent at bay, our aim should not be to defend this or that person whose name has cropped up in the affair, but rather to defend the cause of development in Egypt. There is no reason to fear either truth or justice. By extension, transparency, accountability and a balancing of the scales, are nothing to be frightened of. What there is good reason to fear is that, when incitement and vilification triumph over serious and rational discussion, it is development that is the chief victim. What generally happens in the midst of the kind of raging storms we are witnessing, replete with derogatory terms such as "bloodsuckers" and "sharks" hurled every which way, is that the right to decent work and housing, to a dignified life in a clean and liveable environment, is sacrificed. To help make what is at stake more tangible, close your eyes for a few seconds and imagine that all the new satellite cities that have emerged in the Nile Valley are no longer there. Imagine Egypt without 6 October governorate and New Cairo; Badr, Al-Shorouq and Al-Obour; Sadat City, 15th of May and 10th of Ramadan; New Fayoum, New Borg Al-Arab, New Beni Sweif, and New Minya. Imagine the Red Sea coast without Ain Sukhna with its residential areas, tourist villages, yachting facilities and berths for fishing vessels, without its nearby factories, quarries and wind-powered electricity generating farms at Zaafarana. Proceed south along the coast, from Ras Ghareb to Halayeb, and picture the disappearance of all the tourist resorts, the new residential cities, the mines and industries from El-Gouna, Hurghada, Safaga, Qusseir, Sahl Hashish, Soma Bay and Berenice, all the way to Marsa Alam, where 42 hotels and a whole new city are in the process of being born. Imagine Egypt without a city of the size and international prestige of Sharm El-Sheikh, without its subsidiaries along the Gulf of Aqaba coast, from Dahab through Nuweiba to Taba, without Ras Sedr and its subsidiaries. Then think of the Mediterranean coast, the once arid backdrop to Layla Murad singing "The shore of love", without the flourishing developments that stretch the 500 kilometres between Alexandria and Marsa Matrouh. Egypt's population, which stands at 84 million, grows at the rate of two million a year. Consider what the absence of these thousands of square kilometres of urban, touristic and industrial development would have meant in terms of exponentially growing demands for jobs and housing? That Egypt's developed area has more than doubled from three to seven per cent of its land has proven our lifesaver. Urban expansion has opened opportunities for investment, paving the way for more housing, the creation of new jobs, the development of export- oriented industries and agriculture, and greater volumes of tourism. It is not difficult to picture the disastrous consequences that will arise should this crucial process grind to a halt. To meet the demands of population growth and national progress we should already be taking advantage of more of Egypt's vast land, which at somewhat more than a million square kilometres is three times as large as Britain or Japan. There are 15 islands dotted in the Cairene portion of the Nile, more than 100 in the 16 Nile Valley governorates, from Aswan up to Damietta. These islands, of which there are 55 between Aswan and the Qanater barrages, 30 in the Rosetta branch of the Nile and another 19 in the Damietta branch, comprise 1,550 square kilometres of land, which is two and a half times the size of Singapore, more than three times the size of Bahrain, one and half times the size of Hong Kong and more than 25 times the size of Manhattan. Imagine every one of these islands transformed into a thriving Zamalek or Manial. In addition, Egypt has 81 islands in the Red Sea, each as magnificent as any island in the Caribbean. For some reason they remain uninhabited, or else are used as transit points for illicit purposes. It is widely rumoured that most of the undeveloped Nile islands are used for the cultivation and processing of marijuana, hashish and opium, as well as for the illicit trade in arms. All this land, and more, could be used to boost growth and development, serving as an engine of prosperity. That this has not happened is a result of the ways of land and urban development are dealt with in Egypt. The first approach is to allow land to remain fallow and barren. Whenever a prospective investor stepped near a piece of undeveloped land, the air filled with deafening howls of "exploitation", "the stinking rich", "underhanded deals" and the "sale of Egypt". More often than not the noise scared off investors, allowing the desert to remain in its pristine state, untouched by human hands, uninhabited and unproductive; the islands to remain, at best, planted with small plots of barley or to serve as gathering points for Nile perch, at worst the site of narcotics factories. The second approach was pioneered by farmers who found that socialist price-setting policies on agricultural products --- introduced in the name of the poor -- meant that the soil was more valuable than the crops that could be raised on it. Acre after acre was stripped of its life-giving richness, and once it was rendered as infertile as desert, it was cleared for building purposes. In spite of stringent laws and stiff penalties that are supposed to protect agricultural land, the phenomenon remains rife, especially in rural Egypt. There have been 2,491 reported cases of abuse of agricultural land reported in the governorate of Sohag from 1 January to mid-June 2010. The third approach is a result of the poor taking it into their heads to secure land in their own way, improvising water and electricity supplies and wastewater disposal systems to produce what are euphemistically called "random development areas". Although there are no precise figures, it is estimated that there are between 1,171 and 1,221 such areas, inhabited by 15 million people. Some 6.1 million of them live in Greater Cairo. Until recently the government was responsible for a fourth approach, one I am not completely convinced that it has abandoned entirely. It brought to bear its venerable bureaucracy on the so-called housing crisis, building the government sponsored projects known as "popular housing" units. The first was the Ain Al-Sira project, the model that cloned hundreds of others along the length and breadth of the land. At some point, however, it dawned on the government that it could not build a home for every citizen, at which point it slowed up the cloning process, halting the building the eyesores that it had become clear would attract very few takers. Then we had the approach to urban development adopted by professional syndicates and cooperative societies. This involved residential construction projects of various sizes and degrees of luxury, funded by the subscriptions of syndicate members. A particularly notable instance was the various efforts on the part of the Press Syndicate to build a residential village (designed by the great Egyptian architect Hassan Fathi) on the north coast, to the west of Alexandria, another called Baluza on the northern Sinai coast, and an entire residential quarter in Al-Tagammu Al-Khamis. The Press Syndicate was not alone in these endeavours; other professional syndicates did likewise. Construction would drag on for decades and building prices would climb above market levels, with the result that, in one case at least, the developers managed to construct a ghost town. Baluza, in which I happened to subscribe, never got off the ground. I am still in the dark as to the fate of the LE80,000 I paid. The sixth way of dealing with urban development is the one that has drawn the greatest amount of media wrath, which is curious since it is the approach that has resulted in the majority of developed areas that I asked readers to imagine gone. It brings the government and private sector together in cooperative endeavours. Private sector involvement in major housing development projects has helped cater to the growing number of Egyptians who aspire to own modern homes at affordable prices, purchased via comfortable instalment options. It is a dynamic process that has given rise to such projects as Madinati, Rehab and Dream, suburban areas that feature a variety of villas, houses and apartment blocks, interspersed with parks and other green areas, complete with sporting clubs, social services, administrative buildings and shopping centres. Private sector involvement has meant that the planning and design of such development caters to the demands of the domestic real estate market, in which there is, roughly, a five per cent demand for luxury housing, a 35 per cent demand for middle class housing, and a 60 per cent demand for cheaper housing units. Real estate developers have emerged, coordinating between consumers, banks and building contractors. The system, which exists in most developed nations, entails a considerable element of risk. The developer's vision, after all, begins with a plot of uninhabited land. There are no guarantees that it will succeed in attracting the interest of potential buyers. Yet I doubt that 6 October governorate and New Cairo satellite city would have become the thriving suburban centres they are today had it not been for the integrated residential and urban services offered by such projects as Dream and Rehab. Nor do I believe that the area between New Cairo and Ismailia will remain the barren stretch of desert it is today now that we have Madinati, and I imagine that the same applies to barren stretches along the Cairo-Alexandria desert road. None of the above would have come into existence were Egypt still prisoner to the "key-money" system. Nor would such development have been possible without the government's ambitious road modernisation and development scheme. The aim has not only been to improve communications between existing urban centres, but also -- and more importantly -- to attract investment and propel the processes of urban and social development. This infrastructural drive has been instrumental in setting into motion the penetration of uninhabited and unexploited land. The dynamic is readily apparent in the Upper Egyptian governorates, where the government launched the Upper Egypt-Red Sea road linking Assiut to the ports of the Red Sea. The LE1.6 billion project, creating 345 kilometres of modern highway, plus another 113 kilometre-long link between Assiut and the intersection with the Sohag-Safaga road, has paved the way for 11 new urban development projects and made it possible to reclaim more than 200,000 acres of land (100,000 on either side of the road, 7,000 in Wadi Qena and 46,000 in the areas of Assiut and Sohag) to be allocated to agriculture. Another 113,000 will be set aside for industry, mining and electricity generation; 7,000 for tourism; and 23,000 for restaurants and other services. Among the most important projects that the new road has helped launch is the 3,500-acre Assiut Heights residential development, and the Abu Tig-Sahel Salim bridge. Also in Upper Egypt is the 55 -kilometre long Karimat-Beni Sweif highway, completing a major artery linking the Red Sea with the Mediterranean. Built by the armed forces, it follows the Helwan-Karimat highway and the 107 kilometre-long Cairo-Ain Sukhna road, completed by the armed forces in September 2004 at a cost of LE300 million. Further to the north, the National Roads, Bridges and Overland Transport Authority will soon complete phase one of the Cairo- Alexandria freeway. Part of the LE2.7 billion Cairo- Marsa Matrouh project, this portion will cost a total of LE1.7 billion. Then there is the regional ring road, begun in 2007 by the Ministry of Transport in Cooperation and the Ministry of Housing, linking the six governorates of Cairo, Sharqiya, Menoufiya, Qalioubiya, Fayoum and Giza, as well as the new satellite cities around Cairo. The 400 kilometre highway, which will cost LE5 billion, will help reduce the traffic congestion in Greater Cairo and accommodate the extra traffic generated by projects currently under construction in the industrial zones. Among other noteworthy items in the lengthy list of urban development projects marking Egypt's march into the desert and along its shores is the project that will transform Marsa Matrouh into one of the Mediterranean's most important urban centres. Its offshoots, all the way to Egypt's border at Saloum, are mirrored by similar projects between Shalatin and Halayeb, which will complete the chain of developments along the Red Sea coast. Egypt's growing grid of highways helped pave the way for these projects, but it was the growing real estate development sector that brought them to fruition. In spite of global economic circumstances, this sector has managed to sustain an impressive growth rate: 14.7 per cent during the second quarter of this financial year, up from 5.1 per cent during the same period last year. The emergence of a new system of real estate development has permitted modern urban expansion. The large profits these investors make are then recycled into further development. It is a wonder that this sophisticated system has not been the subject of serious study. The pace at which it works, the way it suits the circumstances of Egyptians, the extent to which it strikes balances between architectural diversity and uniformity, between residential, commercial and productive needs, are all worthy of closer examination. Unfortunately, the only aspect of the system that has attracted attention is its profitability. While that is not an insignificant point, it is in danger of becoming the tree that blinds us to the forest.
