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1
A Beginning
‘The mistake made by so many who have written about Egypt from Herodotus onwards is to mix up the constants in Egyptian, life and the variable’ — Mohammed Hasanein Heykai in Autumn of fury
I
The start — the seizure of power by Nasser's Free Officers — was exciting, and the take-over itself went remarkably smoothly. Years of plotting had paid off. Nasser had sensed some of the same feelings when he was still a student in 1935, marching in demonstrations which he had helped to organise — as he described in The philosophy of the revolution. The excitement of that day and the mounting tension as the day of the revolution of 23 July 1952 drew closer had, as he concedes in the aforementioned document, led to some delusions. He wrote (pp. 21–2):
Before July 23, I imagined that the whole nation was on the alert. I thought it only awaited the leaders to storm the strongholds of oppression, to follow them in close orderly ranks on the Holy March to the Great Goal.
I had imagined our role to be a commando advance-guard, lasting only a few hours, after which the Holy March of the whole nation, advancing in close orderly ranks to the Great Goal would follow. I felt I could even hear the terrific and tremendous up-roar caused by these great masses advancing steadily in close orderly ranks to the Great Goal. So strong indeed was my conviction that I felt in my inmost soul that this was a reality, not a mere flight of imagination.
It was a revealing statement in his extended essay which, Nasser concedes, has a pretentious title, for it betrays a crucial gap between the supposed aims of the revolution and its realities., Nasser continued:
The masses did come. But how different is fiction from the facts!
The masses did come. But they came struggling in scattered groups. The Holy March to the Great Goal was halted, and the picture in those days looked dark, dastardly and foreboding.
It was only then that I realised, with an embittered heart torn with grief, that the vanguard's mission did not end at that hour, but it had just begun.
We were in need of discipline, but found nothing but anarchy.
We were in need of unity, but found nothing but disunity.
We were in need of work, but found nothing but indolence and inactivity.
Hence the Motto of the Revolution — Discipline, Unity and Work.
But we were as yet unprepared …
He had identified many of the difficulties which have dogged Egypt ever since; but neither he nor those who came after him have had more than limited success in galvanising the human resources to break free of the limitations which Nasser had observed. Nasser's whole approach was predictably more thoughtful than Colonel Anwar Sadat's in his Revolt on the Nile, published three years later. In the foreword, Nasser stated that this ‘book is neither an autobiography nor a history of the Egyptian Revolution, but a series of episodes and vivid portraits which have a direct bearing on the Egypt of today’ (p. viii). It was also a considerably more honest account than the version which Sadat furnished later, in his autobiography, of his role in the Free Officers' conspiracy, and of his relationship with and admiration for Nasser.
Sadat's account of affairs during the days leading up to the overthrow of King Farouk is breathless, enthusiastic and almost certainly weak on historical detail. He relates how on 22 July ‘the Executive Committee of the Society of Free Officers’ issued battle orders. The slogan — Resolution and Boldness — was adopted. The password was nasr — victory. Zero hour was to be midnight. He had returned from Rafah in the Gaza Strip by train and on returning home found no message. He wrote:
I decided to give my children a treat, and I took them to an open-air cinema near my home. In the meantime, Gamal (Nasser), who was summoning the conspirators himself, called for me in his famous little Austin car. He called again an hour later and, finding me still out, left a note, which said quite simply: ‘It happens tonight. Rendez-vous at Abdul Hakim's (Amer), 11 pm.’ (p. 116)
Sadat thus nearly missed the action. This was no haphazard absence since he was supposed to be in charge of communications. He was only permitted entry into the General Headquarters after a sentry had stopped him as he did not know the password because Amer (later Field Marshal) recognised his voice. There was worry that the British might intervene. They did not do so, and Sadat was finally able to carry out his appointed task, that of broadcasting to the nation at seven o'clock in the morning in the name of General Mohammed Neguib, the titular head of the revolution, that the army had seized power.
The facts of what happened, according to Sadat's account, are relevant here only to the extent that their description betrays an inclination towards hyperbole rather than realistic analysis, a tendency which has dogged the country consistently over the years. He wrote ‘The dawn of July 23rd was glorious. It was the dawn of our national awakening.’ He mentioned a street lemonade-seller in Sayyida Zeinab, a poor part of Cairo, offering free drinks ‘to everybody’. Sadat concluded (p. 131): ‘The will of the nation to enter up on the path of honour and justice, liberty and fraternity, was reborn.’ The fate of King Farouk was under tortuous debate: the eventual decision was against execution, and he abdicated in favour of his heir, Prince Ahmed Fuad. The Executive Committee of the Free Officers was expanded and became the Council of the Revolution. ‘This was’, Sadat wrote, ‘the new government of Egypt. The secret society of Free Officers had dissolved itself after fulfilling its mission. The flame that had been ignited at Mankabad [a garrison in Upper Egypt, where Nasser and Sadat had been posted and where the latter claimed that a secret military society had been set up in 1939] now burned brightly over the whole land.’
The difference between Sadat's euphoria and Nasser's greater realism and disappointment at the low level of spontaneous popular involvement is revealing. Both reactions were characteristic of the two men. It may reflect the fact that whereas Nasser was always the leader, whether out in front or behind the scenes, Sadat gives the impression of being surprised at getting as far as he did in the hierarchy. He later transformed this surprise into an almost messianic interpretation of his role in the Free Officers' movement, of his waiting in the wings during the period of Nasser's presidency and, finally, of his own glorious and deserved years at the top. Neither man, as it turned out, ever came fully to terms with the masses, although they claimed to speak on their behalf. Nasser, through his national and international achievements and his speeches in colloquial Arabic, was genuinely popular but held back from entrusting them fully with political power. Sadat took a high-flown line rhetorically and personally, while claiming to govern according to the popular virtues of village life. However, a major factor contributing towards the indifference towards Sadat's death was his creation of this chasm between himself and his people.
Whether given power or not by their rulers in ruling the country, the Egyptian people have provided the historical line of continuity and, ultimately, stability. Whether Copt or Moslem (and to a lesser extent, and for modern political reasons, Jewish), the Egyptian has had few if any doubts about his or her identity. In modern times, this confidence, together with the resilience born historically of working on the land and of submission to central government, has seen them through the events of 1952, the 1956 Suez crisis, the defeat by Israel in the 1967 war, Nasser's death in 1970, the Bread Riots of 1977 and Sadat's death in 1981 — to name only a few crises which would probably have devastated many another developing country. The Nile has provided the physical backbone as well as water, the lifeblood, folklore and spiritual and religious inspiration for those who live in a tight area on either side of its course before it branches out into the large fertile triangle of the Delta. In addition, Egypt's size and geographical location have made it, in the more favouable political times, central to events and developments in the region. Alexandria has always been much more a Mediterranean than an African city. Eastwards, the links have been towards Palestine and the Arabian Peninsula. Towards the south through Sudan, always a country with vital strategic importance, Egypt has maintained its contacts with Africa. Westwards, it has been possible to reach out towards the Maghreb.
It is a curious reflection on Egypt's current fortunes that it is much on the margin, although this situation has been gradually changing. Sudan, Oman and Somalia never broke diplomatic relations as a result of the peace treaty with Israel. Jordan and Djibouti have re-opened diplomatic ties. Iraq has needed weapons for its war with Iran in the Gulf, which started in 1980, and has turned to Egypt for supplies, even though diplomatic relations have not been renewed. Nevertheless, it has had almost no influence on Israel's activities in the region. Lebanon has become the playground of Syrian, Iranian and Israeli political and military machinations. Egypt has only marginally been able to help the cause of the Palestine Liberation Organisation (PLO) and its chairman, Yasser Arafat. Regionally, Egypt has in the last decade been uncharacteristically deprived of the ability to have a direct influence on regional crises. This is in part the result of some Arab states dogmatically turning their backs on Cairo after the peace treaty. At the same time, President Mubarak's unabrasive approach to foreign policy may well lead in the long term to Egypt's re-establishment in the Arab fold and re-acknowledgement that Egypt's views and presence should not be overlooked.
Historically, this pivotal position has also made Egypt a target for the forces of foreign military and cultural invasion and occupation. At the same time, Egypt has possessed the indigenous strength to contain these incursions, but they have left their marks in spectacular fashion. Upper Egypt abounds with large-columned and relief-covered walls from the early dynasties of the Pharaohs, recalling a history dating back to before the third millenium BC. The Greeks linked Egypt to the Hellenic civilisations of the Mediterranean through Alexander the Great's conquest of 332 BC. The Romans ruled until 30 BC, and like their predecessors they saw themselves as the direct successors of the Pharaohs, adopting their titles and ruling as such until 395 AD. The adoption of this habit was a tribute in itself to the country's ability to absorb some of the conqueror's energies, but it was at the cost of being a prime provider of corn to Rome. The tradition that St Mark brought Christianity to Egypt early in the Christian era is shrouded in historical imprecision, although there is no doubt that this religious invasion and conversion did take place. It is still the case today that the Coptic community attributes considerable importance and pride to this period, remembering with bitterness the persecution and difficulties of the Byzantine rule which lasted until 639 AD.
The Arab invasion in that year did much to establish the framework from which modern Egypt eventually emerged. In the following centuries, the country sustained a series of rulers, some local and some imposed from outside, depending on the balance of power between Damascus and Baghdad and the ability of the governors in Cairo to assert independence. Former slaves, the Mamlukes, ruled between 1250 and 1516, when the country was taken into the Ottoman Empire, but it enjoyed considerable autonomy for long periods. By the time of Napoleon's invasion in 1798, Egypt was in reduced economic circumstances and ripe for change, but unprepared and unable to resist Anglo-French rivalry over the preservation of their empires in Asia and Europe. Mohammed Ali, made governor of Egypt in 1805, following his defeat of the Mamlukes, founded a dynasty which lasted until 1952, much of it under Britain's ‘veiled protectorate’, a euphemism for occupation. Thereafter came what was the first period for centuries during which Egypt was ruled by a genuinely Egyptian national government.
The different waves of migrations and invasions have left their marks: from the Valley of the Kings at Luxor, to the vast and spectacular Ibn Tulun mosque completed in 878, surrounded by uncovered arcades and overlooked by its minaret, a rarity in having an outside staircase. The Citadel dominates Cairo and from there the Pyramids, Egypt's most famous monuments, can be seen when the absence of the haze of modern pollution permits. The Citadel's construction was begun in 1176 by Saladin, and completed towards the 1820s by Mohammed Ali.
The historian al-Sayyid Marsot (1985, p. vii) has observed:
throughout the eras of alien rule the native Egyptian recognized the existence of a fixed and unchanging territory that was Egypt, which had fixed natural boundaries, and which was separate as a territory even when it was the centre of an empire or amalgamated into an empire as a mere province. Thus the native Egyptian, while coping with alien rulers, also clung to the fixed piece of territory that he identified and knew as Egypt. Even before the age of nationalism made people conscious of national affinities Egyptians were conscious of living in a land called Egypt.
Allied to this sense has been an innate conservatism amongst the population, especially in the rural areas. This may well have been frustrating to the would-be reformer but has also provided a measure of stability. This attitude in the countryside is understandable because, for many centuries, the standard of living of the peasants and the limitations imposed on them by the availability of land and water were so tight that innovations appeared to offer, more often than not, a threat rather than genuine promise of better times. There has been a preference for living at harmony with the existing physical and social order, rather than challenging it. There were developments which, before religious fundamentalism took a hold, could have upset, for example, the roles of women and village leaders, the strength of the family, and economic reform. It was a natural policy of survival through clinging to what was known.
This is of course a generalisation about one sector alone, albeit historically and currently still the largest in the country. Indeed, it may be argued that the drift of these people to the cities and towns has spread these virtues and characteristics. Egyptians differ much in appearance and Christian Copts, the largest religious minority, share with other minorities the feeling of being as Egyptian as the Moslems, largely because of the factors described above. This sense of special identity survived the various invasions over the centuries and a trauma on as large a scale as the 1967 defeat by Israel. In the Middle Eastern area, Egypt enjoys a strength of nationalism which is equalled in its self-confidence only by Israel and Iran.
The issue at stake during the period from 1952 onwards is how were these talents, characteristics and limitations contained and exploited? Many analytical\Vords have been expended by outsiders and Egyptian writers themselves about Egypt's government in its various forms. There were questions asked about how successive governments related to ‘the people’ — el-sha‘ab. Events of the last one hundred years, or even earlier, have raised detailed and controversial discussions about the Egyptian personality — shakhsiya — and civilisation and culture — hadara and thaqafa. To these were added in literary and academic circles arguments about the relative strengths of Arabic in both its classical and colloquial forms. Could or should either form cope with the novel or plays, and Western literary art forms? Intermingled with these concepts have been those of Arabism and Egyptian ism and controversy as to how these two can co-exist. Ever-present, but latterly more assertive has been the powerful feature of the pan-Islamic movement in all its forms, ranging from the fundamentalist Moslem Brothers working within the political system to Gihad, which starts from a violent and militant position. From this it is plain that there has been no absence of issues to debate. The pity has been that much of the liveliness of the argument over such issues somehow evaporated after the Free Officers took over. It was almost as if they had exhausted their creative energies through the process of bringing about a profound change in the governmental system so that there was little strength and inspiration with which to tackle post-coup issues. It was as though, paradoxically, a long-standing societv which had been so adept at absorbing people and ideas from the outside and making them theirs was at a loss when thrown back on its own devices with Nasser, an Egyptian, taking over national control.
There seemed to have been an inability to harness the old Egyptian glories and translate them into new durable ones. Part of the problem may stem from what Dr Taha Hussein, arguably the foremost Egyptian cultural figure of the century, described as trying to. avoid most of the dangers caused by excesses and miscalculations derived from illusions and dreams — and this was written in the late 1930s. Much of what occurred after the overthrow of the monarchy depended on whether those who took over the country regarded the past as a burden or an inspiration. The politics of the period leading up to 1952 certainly had little to recommend them; if they had done so, the revolution would not have taken place. However, as Nasser indicated in The philosophy of the revolution, the popular reaction to even such a politically oppressive past fell way below his hopes. One of the problems about these hopes was that, as he hints (and the philosophy did not appear at the same time as the revolution, thus he had had some time to ponder on the issue), he had gambled on cutting out the dead wood at the top. He had hoped this would result in the emergence of responsible and socially-minded politicians with new patriotic goals who would run the country. The main new proviso would be that the armed forces, or rather those that had brought the revolution about, would have a powerful advisory role. It did not turn out that way, and the Free Officers, in spite of their years of ruminating and arguing about Egypt's undoubted ills and plotting ways of righting them. had policies of little substance to offer when power became theirs. One problem was how to inspire the populace with new ideals. These would have to extend beyond the act of taking power so that it became a doorway to something new and not just an end in itself. It was a difficult period with the country's rulers resorting to populist and socialist protestations which acted for a time as some sort of alternative to concrete action.
The challenge of ‘the beginning’ was how to discover fully the resources within the country so as to exploit them for the greater benefit of Egypt. Nasser had the initial good fortune and skill of achieving the apparently easy combination of slogans fulfilled by decisive and successful action. The self-confidence bred of the treaty with the British over their troop withdrawal; the 1956 war over Suez, where every conspiracy thesis that could be conceived of turned out to be accurate — combining as it did both France and Britain as imperialist powers and Israel as their surrogate implant — and the pan-Arab dream parti...
