In front of the Police Academy early Monday morning, November 4, where deposed Egyptian President Mohammed Morsi and fourteen of his fellow Muslim Brotherhood leaders were on trial, stood an old man who has become a staple of protests throughout Egypt's past two years of unrelenting unrest. On it was written a bleak admonition for the younger generation that complemented the cloudy sky above, "My children, the chairs of regimes are not equal to a drop of your blood, don't bring sadness to your Mother Egypt." In a strange (and welcome) twist of fate, yesterday saw no deaths and relatively little violence amidst a large protest in nearby Maadi district. The defendants have been charged with three things, according to Brotherhood lawyer Ataf Alwait who represented MB leader and Morsi co-defendent Essam al-Arien, "encouraging murder, taking up arms [against civilians,] and corrupting the social peace." The group vehemently denied the accusations, with Dr. Morsi screaming out that he alone is the legitimate President of Egypt and that he does not recognize the legitimacy of the case being brought against him, typified by his refusal to change out of his suit and into the white robes traditionally worn by defendants in Egyptian courts. "A certain ideological streak has been awakened in them," says Middle East analyst Iyad El-Baghdadi, "This may sound strange but they must have dreamed of themselves being in this position, in a way becoming ‘worthy' by going through the same struggle as their past leaders who they revere. Think of it as a regular Muslim finding himself put through the same trials as the Prophet and his Companions." The systematic round-up of Morsi and other MB leaders such as al-Arien and Freedom and Justice Party leader Mohammed el-Batagy, is at least somewhat reminiscent of the 50s and 60s, when a large number of Brotherhood leaders were rounded up and executed at the hands of nationalist President Gamel Abdel Nasser. During this period, the MB also expanded its political canon with some of the most influential Islamist writings it had seen since those of its founder, Hassan al-Banna, the most influential of which came from a man named Sayyid Qutb. Qutb's biggest contribution was probably his book "Milestones", a book which became the basis for most modern Islamist movements up to the present day. But are Morsi, Beltagy, Arien, and their ilk really the inheritors of Qutb and Banna's legacy? As noted Qutb scholar and author of The Political Thought of Sayyid Qutb, Prof. Sayyed Khatab points out, "Morsi himself and many others were not MB yet [when Qutb was executed in 1966]. Now, these members do not understand Qutb properly. They understand his writings literally and their understanding is limited." Under their more modernized view, today's MB might make the case that the Islamist "vanguard" Qutb said must make up a revolutionary force—a group that must be true to Islam like the Prophet's Companions—was indeed in place in January 2011, and that the Islamists joining the more secular factions in Tahrir created a new vanguard for a new era, that could help fulfill the same vision of a better state. But, notes, Baghdadi, "it's a watered down version that accepts non-Islamists as brothers in arms. What happened afterwards—the very acrimonious split between Islamists and non-Islamist revolutionaries—may be the result of ideology getting back into the driver's seat." Indeed, to quote an example used by Qutb himself: "It can therefore be said that Muhammad was capable of kindling among his compatriots the fire of Arab nationalism and would thus have united them...But the All-Knowing and All-Wise Allah did not lead His Prophet on this course. He led him to declare openly that ‘There is no deity worthy of worship but Allah' and to bear patiently, with his few companions, whatever trials came to them." So, it's safe to say that Qutb quite probably would not have approved of 2011's Jan. 25 revolution as a means for the MB to gain power, because it wasn't a real Islamic revolution. Thus, when Morsi finally fell a few months ago, some hardline Salifis saw this not only as an example of bad politics, but rather a testament to the idea that a Hakkimiya ("good Islamic government") can't come without a proper Islamic revolution. This very deep-rooted thesis of their political thought is now an even deeper wedge between Salifis and more moderate Islamists in Egypt. Idealogically speaking, the Brotherhood's fear now is not that they will lose power, but rather that the state will go back into what they see as a state of Jahiliyya ("state of Islamic ignorance") such as they saw under the Nasser regime: in political terms, a state which doesn't just take them out of power, but which, more importantly, doesn't even given them a voice. In short, they feel that they're fighting for not only their survival but the survival of their system of values. But, with these fifteen Brotherhood leaders in prison until their trial resumes in January, it remains to be seen whether this renewed ideological struggle will turn them into symbols and icons for the cause. Regardless, though, it is a brave new era for Egypt. As Mr Alwait, the MB lawyer, is quick to point out, "Banna and Qutb weren't presidents."