Reflections: Big trouble, small acres By Hani Shukrallah "I always had three scenarios," the seasoned academic tells us in typically clipped tones. "Now I have none." The same sentiment, expressed a little less pithily, perhaps, is constantly to be heard among Egypt's intellectual community. Whether optimists, pessimists or 'pessoptimists', all find themselves unable to predict, with any degree of intelligibility, the course of political developments in the country over the next few months, let alone years. Everyone seems to agree that a point of no return has been crossed. The Egyptian polity, remarkably obdurate for the past quarter of a century and deeply rooted in authoritarian structures established more than 50 years ago, is apparently coming apart at the seams. Yet beyond the breakdown -- which until now has been accompanied with more whimpers than bangs -- everything remains opaque. On the most superficial level this opacity is merely a projection of the lack of transparency of a regime in obvious turmoil. This is made all the more glaring by the fact that even today, with presidential elections due in less than three months, we do not know whether or not we have an incumbent in the running. Certainly we are being teased with the prospect daily and campaigning of sorts -- whatever our views of its efficacy -- has already begun, which begs the question, why all the teasing? After all, it should have become clear by now that rather than whet the appetite this kind of teasing merely dulls it. But then opacity has been the defining feature of the government-led "reform" process for a year now. The president readily acknowledged that his intention to call for the amendment of Article 76 of the Constitution was initially known only to the speaker of parliament and five legal/constitutional experts. No less opaque has been the apparent struggle within the upper echelons of the ruling party. We are aware by now that the young versus-old guard, liberal reformist- versus-conservative bureaucrat schemata, borrowed from the Soviet and Chinese experiences as read by the Western media, is facile and largely inaccurate. But we can only speculate -- wildly, and on the basis of the flimsiest of facts -- over the real content of the struggle and, no less significant, over who is squabbling with whom. That there is an intense crisis within the ruling elite is clear. What are the constitutive elements of this crisis? The real configuration of forces at the top of the state bureaucracy and the way in which it is unfolding continues to be a matter of speculation, rumour and conjecture. And these have been running riot, no longer confined to whispers and political café gossip but splashed daily across banner headlines in the plethora of independent and opposition newspapers that in the past few months have left no red line uncrossed. The most prominent subject of rumour is the "succession". But is there really anything behind all this speculation that Gamal Mubarak is being groomed to succeed his father? All we have to go on is the younger Mubarak's expanding political influence, and the continuing seepage of political gossip, some of which seems to presume that those recounting the latest story heard it in the Mubaraks' living room. What we are actually seeing are the outward, phenomenal expressions of the crisis at the top, and in such profusion, with such intensity, that the expression of the crisis far outstrips its presumed causes, whether the problem of succession, American pressure, Kifaya and other opposition movements or internecine strife within the ruling elite. While the opacity of the ruling elite in Egypt is nothing new the fact that it has spread to envelop the country's political future in such overwhelming, inexorable gloom is a function not only of the intensity of the crisis but also, and perhaps more importantly, of the fact that it is very much 'a crisis from above'. True, the rise in opposition movements and street activism in recent months has altered the political landscape, encouraging ever more vocal and radical dissent at home and drawing a great deal of attention abroad. Eyes -- from Washington to Seoul, governmental and civil, sinister, benign and well-wishing -- have been trained with interest on what looked to be a Cairo Spring. The political landscape of the country has been transformed in interesting, even exhilarating ways, and this in the span of a few months. Yet we cannot but remind ourselves that this whole landscape is made up of no more than a few acres. A journalist friend put it very aptly, pointing out that in his estimation the whole political mêlée we've been witnessing of late involves no more than the readership of one of the more popular independent newspaper: 7,000 people. The rest of the country's population of 70 million are either unaware it is going on, or content just to look on. Will it all fizzle out? It just might, though with every passing day this becomes more unlikely. For behind the host of incidental elements feeding the current crisis lies its most compelling cause -- age. A political system the most remarkable feature of which has been its longevity is finally giving up the ghost, or to use a more accurate metaphor, crumbling under its own weight. It is neither American pressure nor the increasingly vociferous and media-conscious activism of a vocal political elite but decay that is, paradoxically, driving the revitalisation of politics. Where it will lead depends on how and when the Egyptian people finally enter the fray. Enter it they must, that at least is clear. A decades-old high dam made up of fear, intimidation and resignation is fracturing by the day; the waters of pent-up dissatisfaction will inevitably pour through. What remains to be seen is whether "the people" will make their entrance, and put their stamp on the country's future, as an undifferentiated mass, potentially destructive mobs, who are the easy prey of demagogues, rogues and fanatics, or as politically aware, self-organising and empowered citizens. It is the manner of their entrance that will determine Egypt's political future. And an obdurate, self-interested and unyielding ruling elite and a self-involved, smug and neglectful opposition could well ensure that we replace an aged, decaying authoritarian system with a younger and more vigorous variety. Then, it will be "see you in 2030".
