Any successful drive for change in Egypt must first mobilise the people and answer the question: What thereafter, writes Khalil El-Anani* The political scene in Egypt can be exciting, as repetitive and predictable as it might also be. Change is in the air. Or at least talk of change dominates public and private forums and people everywhere seem to be expecting the appearance of the long-awaited saviour who will right the scales of justice. Talk of change is one of the primary traits of the climate that has prevailed over the past five years or so. The irony is that the forces clamouring for change are closer to being, themselves, subjects for change rather than agents of change. The Egyptian opposition, both old and new, needs to radically overhaul the concepts and projects it proposes for change. Surely in a country as complex and multifaceted as Egypt, it will take more than a change at the top to achieve a successful and sustainable democratic transition. In the past decade, new heads of state have stepped into power in Algeria, Lebanon, Tunisia, Jordan, Syria and Morocco and none of these countries have shown any tangible sign of progress to democracy. This does not apply solely to this region. Russia, China, Venezuela, Bolivia, Columbia and Ukraine have had new leaderships, yet the economic and social circumstances of their peoples have not improved. In fact, although Egypt has had three presidents in half a century, its system of government and political structures remain essentially the same. However, the fact is that change at the top is unlikely to yield the desired change given the current feebleness and deficiencies in the political infrastructure of society as a whole, both at the level of ideas and awareness, and at the level of practice. Egypt's "thirst" for change can not be quenched by a single individual, not even one with the weight of Mohamed El-Baradei, the former International Atomic Energy Agency chief whose "hint" that he might field himself as president galvanised a large segment of the opposition into embracing him as their candidate of choice for the presidential elections next year. His welcome home reception was, in part, a sad farce. Some of his followers likened the occasion to the return of the exiled leader Saad Zaghloul in 1923. Others took the opportunity to caution him against joining up with the opposition parties and to forge for himself a "third way" to realise change. Apparently, El-Baradei felt that he had been drawn into too uncomfortable a situation, so to extricate himself he laid down impossible to meet conditions for an acceptable nomination process. Change in Egypt cannot be accomplished through the search for a presidential candidate, however formidable that candidate's academic qualifications and international standing. Real change requires a broad- based grassroots movement capable of challenging the regime and prepared to pay the price for the cause of life and freedom. When a grassroots movement such as this acquires what political scientists call "historical mass" it can force the regime to submit to the will of the masses and to make substantial changes in the structure of government and the mechanisms for the transfer of power. No one can contend that such a political mass exists in Egypt at present, however ardently people say they yearn for change. It is also doubtful whether the people are aware of their ability to make change and whether they are prepared to make the necessary sacrifices in the course of that struggle. If they were, they would have made themselves felt at some point during the past three decades. Yes, there have been popular outbursts of anger and some flashes of organised protest. However, these have seldom extended beyond occupational and sectoral bounds and they did not seek to push political demands aimed at bringing about a qualitative change in the structure of government and the sources of its legitimacy, which is why they could be so easily contained and silenced. Furthermore, the new opposition's desperation to change the current regime simply for the sake of change is symptomatic of a political adolescence that cannot achieve anything constructive. One may be tempted to compare the climate in Egypt today to that in the US a year and a half ago when the desire to reverse the effects of the Bush administration ushered Barack Obama into the White House. However, El-Baradei is not Obama and Egypt is not the US and, more importantly, its dominant institutions of power lack the ability to shift their allegiance from one boss to another whose motives they have not had the opportunity to test and who cannot be assured of accommodating their interests and perpetuating their privileges. Perhaps one benefit from El-Baradei's return and hint at running for president is that it threw a spanner into plans to usher in Gamal Mubarak as the successor to his father, which a collection of business and finance magnates had moved into a higher gear recently. Indication that these plans encountered a speed bump is to be found in official statements cited in Al-Shorouk of 20 February to the effect that President Mubarak made up his mind to run for a sixth term now that El-Baradei has decided to enter the game. However, this does not alter the fact that a single person is not the answer. If the new opposition is serious in its attempt to press for true change in Egypt it must contend with five issues so that their movement does not lose impetus and so that Egyptians do not lose hope for change regardless of whether or not El-Baradei runs for president. First, it must deconstruct the close relationship between the institutions of power and the presidency. Unfortunately, the actual source of legitimacy in Egypt from the 1952 revolution to the present has resided in the institutions of power that control the transfer of authority in Egypt. The "will of the people" has never served as more than window dressing for this process. Although it is difficult to predict how these institutions, which have always been shrouded in secrecy, will stand on the process of transfer of authority in the future, they will certainly not approve of a president who comes from outside them, unless the people -- or more accurately a historical mass of them -- compels them to. Second, it must find a way to cause a rift in the ruling elite and its political party in order to create a breach in the existing alliances of wealth and power and to disrupt the symbiotic relationship between the bourgeoisie and the ruling elite. As daunting as this task may appear, it is not impossible in light of the mounting anger at the ruling party and its policies, not to mention at the connection between some of its members and cases of corruption and scandal. However, the task will involve filling the void where there should be viable alternatives to the ruling party and a dynamic civil society capable of attracting members of the new bourgeoisie to the project for change. This is precisely what occurred in some successful experiences in the transition to democracy through the forces and institutions of civil society, such as those that took place in Romania and Poland in the early 1990s. Third, the opposition needs to forge a responsible coalition with a pragmatic vision for change, a clear strategy for confronting the authorities that draws on all peaceful means of political activism, and the capacity to withstand repression. Unfortunately, there is as yet little evidence that the opposition is anywhere close to meeting these conditions, in spite of the enthusiasm for change that some political figures have displayed. Since the 2005 parliamentary elections there have been several stabs at forging political alliances among different opposition forces, but they quickly fell apart due to infighting. Forces considering forging an opposition coalition must answer two questions. Is it feasible for Islamists, secularists, liberals, Nasserists, as well as a new generation of political activists to converge and work towards the achievement of a common objective? What is the objective: is it to change the president or is it to change the people so as to make them the actual source of power and legislation? Fourth, the opposition must acquire the power to motivate the great silent majority, the Egyptian people, and inspire them to overcome their age-old legacy of political apathy. This, too, is no easy task in a society that has long since grown accustomed to placing greater faith in the institutions of power, and those who revolve in their orbit, than in the opposition. Granted, there is a considerable level of public discontent and anger at the policies of the current regime. However, fear of the unknown combined with the lack of extensive contact between the opposition and the general public remain major hurdles in this domain. Fifth comes the ability to answer that crucial question, "And then what?" Supposing that the opposition managed to overcome the first four problems, what will it seek to accomplish? Surely the aim is not just to bring in some new faces, but rather to build a solid democratic order based on a system of checks and balances between powers and capable of guaranteeing that it will not slide backwards. Unfortunately, this very elemental point is glaringly absent in the many opposition "dialogues" that appear more obsessed with the occupant of the presidential chair than with the cause of democratic transformation in Egypt. Unless the opposition devotes some serious attention to the five issues above, all attempts to promote change will quickly prove stillborn and ultimately strengthen the status quo. What a pity it would be to squander a rare and perhaps unrepeatable window for change. * The writer is a senior scholar at the Institute for Middle East and Islamic Studies, Durham University, UK.
