CAIRO - Days before the landmark presidential elections, I had a chat with a foreign friend about the prospects for democracy in Egypt, following a turbulent and bloody transitional period. “Beware of your dreams. Democracy does not always produce the best ones,” he warned me, noticing my excitement about the new experience. This advice flashed through my mind as I sat early on Friday glued to the television screen, switching from one station to another to learn about the latest results of the vote count. Out of a pack of 13 contenders in the elections, the first since Hosni Mubarak was deposed more than a year ago, the finalists are a conservative Islamist and an ex-army general. Although the result understandably generated euphoria among the two finalists' respective supporters, it sent shockwaves across the nation. It's not hard to understand why. The first-placed finalist is Mohamed Mursi, a US-educated engineer and the head of the Muslim Brotherhood's Freedom and Justice Party. The group already controls the two houses of Parliament whose performance has disappointed many Egyptians since its election five months ago. Mursi's win will most likely reinforce worries about the Brotherhood's monopoly of the ruling institutions. Banned from 1954 until a few days after Mubarak's overthrow, the group are expected to form or lead the Government after the presidential polls. Moreover, Islamists are set to wield a big say in crafting the new Constitution. Some detractors have compared the omnipresent Brotherhood to the now-disbanded ruling National Democratic Party, that dominated Egypt's politics and even its economy for more than 30 years. The Brotherhood's repeated denials of this accusation have had little effect. The fact that its presidential contender garnered barely 26 per cent of the vote tally, compared to 48 per cent in the parliamentary polls held more than five months ago, should be an issue of concern for the 84-year-old group. This drop indicates an ebb in their popularity, apparently reflecting disillusionment about their performance inside and outside Parliament. The rise of Islamism in post-Mubarak Egypt is a matter of concern to the Christian minority and liberals, whose votes will probably go to Shafiq, Mursi's rival. This possibility brings us to the other half of the predicament in which many Egyptians are presently stuck. Deemed as an extension of the toppled regime, Shafiq was appointed as prime minister in Mubarak's last days in power. While Shafiq was in office, thousands of Mubarak's opponents camping out in Tahrir Square in central Cairo were attacked by hordes of camel riders wielding knives and machetes. Their assailants were believed to be hired by Mubarak loyalists. On more than one occasion, Shafiq has vehemently denied involvement in the attack, saying he had promptly requested it be investigated. The Egyptians, who voted for Shafiq in the first round, were apparently attracted by his image as a firm veteran statesman, who is able to re-establish security after months of chaos and lawlessness. Shafiq, 70, has promised to restore security in Egypt ‘within 24 hours'. These voters are set to renew their confidence in him in the June 16-17 runoff. He is also likely to secure the bulk of the Christians' votes, because he projects himself as a strongman who can rein in the rise of Islamists, including the Muslim Brotherhood. Other voters, who fear a Muslim Brotherhood monopoly of power and see Shafiq as a Mubarak regime holdover, will most probably stay away from the ballot boxes. Shafiq's extensive military experience appeals to some voters, while it discourages others in a country ruled by the military for six decades. How many votes the would-be president eventually garners will largely depend on the alliances both contenders will be able to forge in the run-up to the runoff, the outcome of which is too hard to predict.