How seriously should the new traffic law be taken, asks Shaden Shehab A car with no licence plates is double parked, blocking the way for another parked car. The driver waits impatiently, asking the car attendant why he "allowed" it. Then he tries to push the car but fails because of the hand brakes. He resorts to using his horn, in the hope the driver will miraculously hear the noise and be reminded of his wrongly parked vehicle. Finally a man wearing a police uniform gets into the car without a glance and speedily drives off. The car attendant remains silent. He does not ask the policeman for the usual tips. The waiting man speaks only when the policeman has left. "So, the traffic law is really in force," he says to no one in particular. He is not alone in mocking the much trumpeted law, nor is the scene described likely to be an isolated instance. Few members of the public appear to believe that the new law will end chaos on the streets: indeed, such is the cynicism that now prevails in the face of corruption that many believe the traffic law has been imposed simply as a means to collect more money. The new traffic law came in force last Friday. It stipulates fines ranging from LE100 to LE3,000 and includes jail sentences for some violations, and the suspension of drivers' licences for others. As of Monday 862 licences had been suspended and LE60,000 collected in fines. "The law will be scrupulously enforced to improve the traffic situation," stressed Major- General Sherif Gomaa, assistant to the interior minister. "Fines will be fixed to prevent people from committing violations once and for all." Minister of Interior Habib El-Adli confirmed that no one would be above the law. By way of evidence state-owned newspapers reported that three members of parliament and four police officers had been fined and their licences suspended in recent days. Dozens of speed traps are said to be in operation, hundreds of high-tech motorcycles are combing the streets, and cameras connected to the ministry's central and subsidiary operation rooms are poised to be erected in streets and squares to capture violations and record the licence plates of the cars involved. The public awareness campaign accompanying the law has been unprecedented. Vehicles with screens informing the public of its provisions have been cruising the streets. The television campaign, under the slogan "Our commitment to it is not a choice anymore", includes one commercial in which popular stars Yossra and Hisham Selim dramatically recount the consequences of disobeying traffic rules. It seems serious, so why is the public unconvinced? "What they find odd is that they are supposed to abide by the law while actual conditions make it impossible," says Amr El-Shobki, political expert at Al-Ahram Centre for Political and Strategic Studies. "There should have been a transitional period first in which the government dealt with its own violations. And it should have provided parking places before asking people not to double park, put in working traffic lights before asking people not to jump them, erected road signs indicating speed limits, repaired streets so that they no longer had holes and bumps. Had that been done then the traffic law would have commanded respect." One article in the new law stipulates that vehicles must be equipped with a first aid kit and a reflective stop triangle. Drivers now have a three- month grace period to purchase these items. Shops had already started selling them but the Interior Ministry announced the available items did not meet the required standards. Inevitably, this has led to speculation that the imposition of "required standards" is simply a way of ensuring the lucrative supply contracts go to the right people. "If the government was serious it would have done its job first before asking the people to abide by the law. The crux of the matter is that it seems no more than a way to make money," concludes El-Shobki. Political activist Mohamed Abul-Ghar sees other hindrances. "The real traffic problem is corruption," he says. High-profile citizens will remain immune to its provisions, and it is not "the only law they break". And what, he asks, will the traffic law do to ministers and their security teams when they block streets and bridges until they pass? Columnist Fahmi Howeidi goes further. "Chaos in the streets is a repercussion of the waning authority of the law which is a result of the state's own failure to respect the law. You cannot re- establish order or expect people to respect the law unless it is applied impartially, without favour." The new law will seem to be effective for a couple of months and then, he predicts, it will be forgotten, like so much other legislation. Anyone remember seatbelts? "It is absurd for the authorities to think people will respect the new law when they see ministers' vehicles racing through the streets, or traffic policemen hinting for bribes in return for not issuing a ticket," says Noha Shawqi, an engineer. "If Mamdouh Ismail can escape any responsibility for the sinking of the Al-Salam ferry, and Hani Sorour for supplying contaminated blood bags, you don't have to be a genius to know equal enforcing of the traffic law is a bad joke."
