In Focus: Who will pick up the pieces? The continued absence of any clear vision of where Egypt is heading can result only in more chaos, writes Galal Nassar Egypt is in the throe of convulsions sufficiently extraordinary to make the reconsideration of a host of official policies a matter of urgency. Unless something is done, and done soon, the country will inevitably edge closer to the brink. Everyone agrees that without traffic lights and policemen our streets would be even more chaotic than they are. And what goes for traffic flow in the city applies just as much within the political arena. Yet the political life of the nation is progressing without the benefit of traffic lights, sign posts or directions. We have abused freedom of expression. We have replaced reason and fact with controversy and hearsay, leaving the majority of people to wonder where the country is heading. Meanwhile, ministers smile to the cameras in an attempt to reassure the public while the National Democratic Party (NDP) endeavours to put a brave face on it all. Nobody, though, is fooled. The government desperately needs to revise its own reform programme. The Nazif government has presented a programme that is crammed with a host of figures which pass as detail but which serve ultimately to obscure the lack of any clear goals. The government says that 5.4 million new jobs must be created in the coming period. Targets have been set for investment and for privatisation. But how are these to be met? And if they can be met, where will they really lead? It is all well and fine to talk up development and the need for constitutional reform. But in the absence of any clearly set goals, in the absence of any vision of where such reforms are intended to lead, such talk is meaningless. Egypt is in desperate need of a lot more than a revamped version of the status quo. Improvements in the education and health systems are of course essential, though they will not solve the problems we face without more extensive change. And Egypt needs far greater international leverage. But how is that to be engineered? This is a question the government needs to answer; offering a list of figures is not enough. As a nation we appear to have mislaid any sense of purpose. We live from day to day, dodging a crisis now, turning a corner tomorrow, licking our wounds the day after, trying to survive somehow. But where is the vision? Where is the sense of direction? The government has a responsibility to provide the nation with a vision of its future. That is what governments are supposed to do. Yet to do so the government must itself have a vision, and the courage of its convictions to pursue those goals, and that, in turn, takes imagination, honesty and drive. It often seems that the second Nazif government is in desperate need of a breathing space, time in which it can sit in a closed room and engage in a long overdue session of brainstorming. It needs to come up with the kinds of ideas that are capable of motivating the public. The Egyptian people are capable of walking that extra mile, but they must first be told where the extra mile will lead. Our government has managed, within months, to antagonise judges, journalists, engineers and doctors. Who exactly are they trying to please? Whose support are they seeking? The public is baffled and concerned. Scenes of Central Security vehicles lining our streets are not exactly cheering for the nation. Intellectuals, academics, political parties; they are all disappointed, sharing a sense of powerlessness and alienation. What we are currently facing is the kind of chaos that inevitably comes in the absence of any sense of direction. Only one thing is clear. There are people in this country who want to see an Islamic state. There are people in the region who want the caliphate back. From Palestine to Algeria, from Jordan to Morocco, Islamists are making political inroads. Last week Muslim fundamentalists assaulted a secular judge in Turkey. The current chaos is playing into the hands of Islamist forces and the pressure for democracy, exerted by the US and the West, is not helping anyone. Last week, during a rally in solidarity with Judges Hesham El-Bastawisi and Mahmoud Mekki, television cameras offered a view of a man gagged and handcuffed, standing in front of others chanting and waving the Qur'an. Yet the conflict between the judiciary and executive branches has nothing to do with religion. Neither El-Bastawisi and Mekki, nor their opponents, have intimated that the dispute has a religious dimension. So what exactly were these Muslim Brotherhood members trying to tell us? This is only one question. There are many others. Have we run out of people who have the authority and sense to stop the chaos? Can the government justify its apparent confidence? Are we to get used to the sight of Central Security forces deployed on our streets? Can the young be blamed for rebelling against the current circumstances? Would democracy be as fruitful here as it has been in other parts of the world? Is the People's Assembly aware of the dimensions of the crisis but playing dumb? Are we willing to admit -- without belittling or exaggerating -- the scope of the current chaos?
