Reform, the budget, the role of the clergy: all, writes Amin Howeidi*, are obscured by fog Grey comes in many shades, and it covers much. Grey can obscure the structure of the state, shrouding parts of the system in ambiguity. It can create a fog, leaving us guessing at what might lie behind. Grey areas are unsafe -- they are minefields that people avoid out of fear for their own safety. Those who don't step into these minefields can live and prosper. They may even, in time, win one of the State Merit Awards, which have recently doubled in value. But sometimes one must throw caution to the wind and enter the fog, if only to determine what dangers lurk beneath its surface. Let me start with the public role of the clergy. Senior clerics cannot wear two hats, even when they hold key posts. There is no place for a political hat atop the head of a clergyman, for even if he has a head large enough to accommodate two hats it would confuse his audience should he attempt to wear both simultaneously. They would not know which hat to look at, the political or the religious. Nor should the clergy presume that they head a community. Egypt has one president, a president for whom all citizens are equal and whose duty it is to protect Egypt and its people. The clergy must perform their tasks within the constitution and laws of the land. If citizens have demands they should take them up with the state. Occasionally, a citizen may make a mistake and send his complaints to the wrong address. The clergyman must redress this mistake, not encourage it. It cannot be used to twist the arm of the authorities, for such behaviour could ignite fires that will eventually prove inextinguishable and is, in any case, outside the law. The clergy should not encourage turbulence at home, nor media frenzy abroad, for this is not his job. No one is above the law, and those who sow the seeds of sedition will be punished. The clergy must not misinterpret the state's gracious conduct, for in doing so they could well be digging themselves into an even deeper hole. The clergy has a duty to shore up, and not imperil, national unity. Those who want to be involved in politics must resort to the ballot box. There are parties for those who want to join the political fray. And the law bans the formation of religious parties specifically to protect the nation from fragmentation, to avoid a clash between religion and politics. Religion is for God, the homeland for all. Religions are not affected by the conversion of one person or a few, and a clergyman raising hell over conversions is someone who calls for sedition. A sheikh, or priest or pope who uses such incidents to make trouble is a snake that deserves to have its fangs drawn before it poisons more people, tarnishes tolerant religious creeds and sows sedition among the public. The clergyman should wear one hat, suited to his education and field of competence. Two hats will weigh too heavy, pushing the head down and damaging the wearer's stature in a way no rosary, beard or turban can rectify. Another grey area is the state's budget. A budget is more than a list of figures -- it represents the available means by which hope can be turned into reality. Budgets may not achieve all the desired objectives -- resources are limited while ambition may know no bounds. Any budget must involve a process of prioritisation. Some countries break their budget into two parts -- one public, the other classified. A measure of secrecy can be justified, but information must not be withheld to excess, and certainly not to the extent that it compromises accountability. Of course those parts of the budget concerning national security can be treated with a degree of circumspection. But the government is bound to exercise complete oversight. Without such oversight national security, the only justification for secrecy, is itself compromised. And what of reform, yet another of the grey areas obscuring our national life? Reform is a matter of deeds, not words. What are we reforming? What are the priorities of this reform? How, when, by whom and in whose interest is reform to be undertaken? These are all questions that need to be answered. Reform involves a package of measures conducted in tandem. Reform is like the restoration of a statue. You cannot just fix the arms and forget about the torso. You need to examine the statue, decide what needs to be fixed, what material is required and how long it will take. Reform must progress according to a plan and a timetable. I am reminded of a story that used to be told about the late Anwar El-Sadat. When Madam Tussaud's in London commissioned a wax statue of Sadat its subject complained, saying that it made him look like Frankenstein. Don't blame us, the museum replied, the statue is just like the original. Cosmetic changes do not, in the end, alter the underlying structures. Discussions of reform remind me of Don Quixote tilting at windmills. They continue in the absence of any clear plan, along a path obscured by fog, towards a goal that has never been specified. Does reform have an end? It shouldn't. A beginning, yes, but then it must be on-going and infinitely adaptable. Better, perhaps, to stop here, before moving from grey into black. * The writer is former minister of defence and chief of general intelligence.
