It is only natural that Egyptians should want to commemorate the liberation of Sinai on 25 April every year. But for that national day to turn into a day to demonstrate against the government for allegedly having squandered our national territory is not natural. It compels us to pause and contemplate its ramifications, especially given that in 2011, 25 January, long marked as Police Day to commemorate the role the police played in the national independence movement against the British occupation, turned into a date for revolution. This occurred because by 2011 the police had become an instrument of oppression in the hands of a corrupt and despotic regime. The government's decision to sign a maritime boundaries agreement during Saudi King Salman's visit to Egypt in early April, officially recognising Saudi Arabia's title to Tiran and Sanafir, despite the fact that these islands had been under Egyptian sovereignty for more than 65 years, precipitated an outburst of popular anger. To aggravate matters further, it was rumoured that the government planned to make do with a parliamentary ratification of the agreement and not to put it to a plebiscite as is stipulated under the constitution. The 25 April protests were not the only demonstrations held to protest against the Egyptian-Saudi maritime borders agreement. A demonstration was also staged the day after the Saudi monarch left Egypt. But the demonstrations held on 25 April were different from the earlier protests in three respects: they were planned ahead of time, no fewer than 25 youth movements vowed to take part, and the date itself carries considerable symbolic value in the Egyptian collective consciousness. Accordingly, many expected a massive turnout on that day. Some went so far as to predict that 25 April 2016 would usher in a third revolutionary wave that would not subside until the current regime went the way of the Mubarak regime after 25 January 201,1 and of the Morsi regime after 30 June 2013. As it turned out, the numbers were far fewer than expected, and this gave rise to many conflicting analyses. The paltry turnout was proof of how weak the opposition is, said some. It was proof of how strong the ruling regime is and of the continued popular support for it, said others. Others countered that it was a sign of the power of the security agencies and the general fear among the population, and therefore not necessarily of popular confidence in the regime. To this some responded that the sense of fear was not limited to the people. The regime was also afraid, they said, pointing to the huge numbers of soldiers and police that were mobilised in anticipation of a march of millions. Regardless of which explanation is closer to the truth, the current political climate reflects a deep social and political crisis that we must try to probe. I believe that it would be difficult to understand the nature of the current crisis without casting our minds back to events over five years ago. On 25 January 2011, the people rebelled against the Mubarak government and with the effective participation of factions belonging to the Islamist trend, led by the Muslim Brotherhood, succeeded in toppling the head of the regime. However, the roots of that regime remained alive and capable of growing anew in Egyptian soil. While the networks of vested interests in that regime may have temporarily disappeared from view, they remained active behind the scenes. On 30 June 2013, the people rose up again as one, this time against Muslim Brotherhood rule and the Islamist factions allied with it, and this time with the effective participation of the vested interests of the old Mubarak regime. However, it was impossible to then President Morsi without the intervention of the military, which assumed the responsibility for removing him from power and bringing him to trial, arresting most of the leaders that were part of his regime, and declaring a new roadmap in the presence of representatives of various political forces and social components. But there was a vast difference between the way the interim period following the removal of Mubarak was managed and the way the interim period following the removal of Morsi was managed. The first phase brought Morsi and his group to power through a participatory political process that had a democratic flavor, in spite of its flaws. The second brought Abdel-Fattah Al-Sisi to the presidency, but this time through a participatory process in which a security mentality prevailed and which was characterised by the absence of a grassroots base and the arts of sound governance. Many in Egypt, including some of the leaders who played prominent roles in the 25 January and 30 June revolutions, have drawn a distinction between 30 June, which occasioned mass protests to demand early presidential elections, and the circumstances surrounding the declaration of the new roadmap following the removal of Morsi on 3 July. Despite the reservations that some have aired with regard to the ouster of Morsi, the new roadmap, unveiled by Al-Sisi in his capacity as defence minister at the time, inspired hopes that the process would lead to genuine democratic transformation. Such hopes survived until Al-Sisi, whom interim president and judge Adli Mansour promoted to field marshal, nominated himself for the presidency, setting in motion a massive electoral campaign beneath such banners as the “rescuer and hero” and the “candidate of necessity.” Only then did thinking turn to altering the roadmap. As we know, the roadmap as it was originally announced arranged priorities as follows: (1) temporarily suspend the constitution (2) hold early presidential elections (3) temporarily entrust the head of the Supreme Constitutional Court with management of national affairs until presidential elections are held (4) form a government of highly competent national figures, (5) create a commission to revise the constitution and draft necessary amendments, and (6) create a higher commission for national reconciliation consisting of individuals with a reputation for integrity who are acceptable to all political groups and represent all political outlooks. Note that the roadmap did not include a step regarding the holding of parliamentary elections. It merely appealed to the Supreme Constitutional Court to draft a bill for parliamentary elections and to set in motion procedures for holding elections as soon as possible. After Al-Sisi decided to run for president, however, some fundamental changes were introduced into the roadmap. The priorities were reordered so that presidential elections would be held before parliamentary ones, and certain basic points were dropped, most notably the one calling for national reconciliation. These changes, I believe, caused the revolution to swerve off course and opened the doors to Mubarak-era vested interests to seize control of it. When the “rescuer and hero” becomes the “candidate of necessity” it is easy to justify the reluctance of other prospective candidates to put themselves forward in elections. When the “candidate of necessity” becomes the actual president, with a near unanimity of the votes cast by those who go to the polls, it is easy to justify his need for “political bolstering”, which is difficult to supply without “engineering” parliamentary elections. On this occasion, this was managed through the manipulation of the electoral laws and the boundaries of certain constituencies, as opposed to outright tampering and fraud. Therefore, when a new government finally took shape with a popularly ratified constitution and an elected president and parliament, this did not necessarily mean that the system had entered a phase characterised by stability and the shift from revolutionary to constitutional legitimacy. Against this backdrop it can be asserted that the crisis over the Tiran and Sanafir islands was not the only reason why people took to the streets on 25 April. In fact, the crisis was essentially a mirror of the dilemma that Egypt faces after accumulated failures in the government's handling of a long train of problems, from the economic problems, the severity of which has been manifested in the nearly 50 per cent decline in the value of the Egyptian pound, to the murder of the Italian researcher Giulio Regeni, which exposed the level that human rights abuses have reached in Egypt. The overwhelming majority of the Egyptian people are undoubtedly grateful to Al-Sisi for the role he played in saving the country from the Muslim Brotherhood nightmare. However, that same majority has now reached the conviction that the president who was capable of rescuing the country from the grips of Muslim Brotherhood rule may not necessarily be the best or most qualified person to rule Egypt in the post-Brotherhood period. This is the real dilemma that Egypt is experiencing at present. It should inspire all loyal citizens, including the president himself, to work together to find a solution. But will a message of this sort reach those whom it most concerns? The writer is a professor of political science at Cairo University.
