Celebrations fade as constitutional crisis edges closer in Cairo

An unlikely coalition has formed between the Brotherhood and left-leaning revolutionary groups.

Jubilant scenes on Tahrir Square, as the Muslim Brotherhood’s candidate Mohammed Morsi was announced Egypt’s first post-Mubarak president, were dulled as the future of the country’s recently-dissolved parliament and the constitution-drafting body were left hanging in the balance after crucial rulings were postponed on Tuesday.

Consequently, thousands have remained on Cairo’s flashpoint square.

“Of course Tahrir’s sit-in is celebratory but it’s a victory that is soured by the recent wave of strong actions from the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF),” explained former Brotherhood member Mohamed Farouk. He is member of the Board of Trustees of the Revolution, a collation of revolutionary and political forces currently manning Tahrir’s central stage.

The ruling military junta controversially dismantled parliament on 14 June after the High Constitutional Court ruled Parliamentary Elections Law unconstitutional. As the Constituent Assembly was elected by the now defunct legislative body, it too was expected to be disbanded.

In the midst of these contentious decisions, on 18 June, the SCAF issued amendments to the military-authored Constitutional Declaration, which took the place of Mubarak’s now-abrogated 1971 constitution on 30 March last year.

The addendum saw presidential powers significantly reduced and the junta awarded some legislative and executive powers – which many dubbed a “military coup”.

Egypt’s Supreme Administrative Court was expected to announce on Tuesday whether these actions were in fact legal but instead adjourned the session until July for the parliament and Constitutional Declaration decision, and September for the future of the Constituent Assembly.

Subsequently an improbable coalition of the Brotherhood and left-leaning revolutionary groups, including the April 6 Youth Movement and the Revolution Youth Coalition, continue to protest against the recent actions.

Quranic verses blend in with football-styled protest chants, as revolutionaries, ultra-conservative Salafists, leftist groups, hardcore football supporters and ordinary families vow to uphold the sit-in.

“We are not leaving the square until our demands, like the reinstatement of the parliament and keeping the Constituent Assembly as is, are achieved,” said Farouk.

“The weight of Tahrir, the Brotherhood organisation and Mohamed Morsi as president we’re hoping will be enough to help us reach our goals,“ added Shaima’ Abul-Leil, communications officer of the Board of Trustees of the Revolution.

Morsi and the organisation backing him seem to be the unlikely figureheads of Egypt’s continued revolutionary struggle against military power.

Just five months ago secular groups bemoaned the significant 43 per cent win by the Brotherhood in the parliamentary elections, their closed-door meetings with the SCAF, and the Islamist majority dominating the constitution-drafting assembly.

“I cannot believe I’m in the streets fighting alongside a conservative Islamist organisation which repeatedly abandoned us during clashes [with the police and military] last year and in 2012,” says Sara, 20, a political sciences student.  

Never have the stakes been so high, or the demands so aligned, for both the Brotherhood and the secular revolutionary forces.

Poisoned chalice

Morsi has inherited a seemingly-impossible task as Egypt's new president.

In the contentious amendments to the Constitutional Declaration, the SCAF ensured that it was untouchable and ungovernable by the president.

Contrary to the now-defunct 1971 Constitution, the SCAF would become the commander-in-chief of the armed forces, its incumbent members could not be changed and it would decide on all issues relating to the military.

Even the defence minister would remain unchanged, even though the president is allowed to appoint the cabinet.

In practice, this makes the SCAF a fourth arm of government, with, as the amended document ensured, super-presidential powers.

The SCAF has the right to appoint a constituent assembly, should the current assembly, whose very existence is under threat due to July’s expected court ruling, “face any obstacles preventing it from completing its work.” It can also reject constitutionals articles.

This would allow the military to have a serious hand in the drafting of the constitution, which will outline the president’s job description.

In the absence of parliament the military council awarded itself powers to legislate in the addendum.

In addition, key decisions were made by the military before the presidential election results were even announced.

For example, Egypt’s 2012/13 annual state budget, which was drafted by the military-appointed cabinet and signed off by the SCAF, will be applied on the first day of the presidency.

Despite the amendment and approval of the budget being a parliamentary privilege, the legislative authority only received the “austerity” budget, which was submitted two months late, a week before parliament was dissolved.

This sparked mass uproar amongst the MPs, particularly from the Brotherhood’s political party, who called the action a “conspiracy” ensuring the “downfall” of the coming government.

Legal experts claim that there may be re-elections after the new constitution is drafted, as the presidential mandate, Morsi will swear to, will have changed.

There is even money in the new budget assigned to the electoral commission to cover this, despite the fact that at the time of drafting the financial document, the parliament was still in place, and the presidential elections in the pipeline.

Undermining democracy

Tuesday’s postponement of the court rulings is a damning blow to the parliament, the constitution and consequently to the presidency as well.

The ruling on whether the current Constituent Assembly will remain in its current formation has been delayed until 4 September, at the very end of the constitution-drafted process.

It could be argued that should the military decide that the new constitution is not to its liking, the administrative court, which is very much in the pocket of the regime, would rule the assembly unconstitutional. This would make the constitution it drafted null and void as well.

Just three days before the ruling on the Assembly, another lawsuit is due to take place determining the legality of the Muslim Brotherhood as an organisation.

Therefore, by 4 September Egypt could see the parliamentary-elected Constituent Assembly dissolved, the draft constitution rejected and the Muslim Brotherhood dismantled: a massive blow to Morsi and Egypt.

Without the re-establishment of parliament, the only legal authority that Morsi can swear his presidential oath to is the High Constitutional Court, as outlined in the addendum.

By swearing to uphold the constitution as is, in front of the court, Morsi automatically legitimises the amendments as well as the dissolution of parliament. 

By postponing the verdict until after the president has sworn the oath and assumed office, the Administrative Court has ensured Morsi must swear to the amendments, or risk direct confrontation with the SCAF – something the Brotherhood is loathe to do.

“We do not want to break the back of the SCAF – in fact, we would like to revive the slogan “the army and the people are one hand’,” says, Dr. Mahmoud Khalil a Brotherhood member who jointly authored Morsi’s presidential “renaissance” programme.

“However, we will not stand for judicial corruption. If the ruling doesn’t go our way then we will get five million people in the streets as well as the upper and lower houses of parliament,” Khalil added, “Morsi will swear an oath in Tahrir to them. This will be massive escalation on the Brotherhood’s part against the SCAF – something we hope to avoid.”

He predicts this will not happen, and instead the Administrative Court will rule in favour of the parliament. The Brotherhood is “a firm believer in the institutions,” Khalil added.

These sentiments will not sit well with the leftist revolutionaries the Brotherhood are trying to court, who came to Tahrir on 25 January 2011 to re-imagine a new Egypt.
 

Post-election celebrations in Tahrir Square in Cairo. Photograph: Getty Images
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Arsène Wenger: how can an intelligent manager preside over such a hollowed-out team?

The Arsenal manager faces a frustrating legacy.

Sport is obviously not all about winning, but it is about justified hope. That ­distinction has provided, until recently, a serious defence of Arsène Wenger’s Act II – the losing part. Arsenal haven’t won anything big for 13 years. But they have been close enough (and this is a personal view) to sustain the experience of investing emotionally in the story. Hope turning to disappointment is fine. It’s when the hope goes, that’s the problem.

Defeat takes many forms. In both 2010 and 2011, Arsenal lost over two legs to Barcelona in the Champions League. Yet these were rich and rewarding sporting experiences. In the two London fixtures of those ties, Arsenal drew 2-2 and won 2-1 against the most dazzling team in the world. Those nights reinvigorated my pride in sport. The Emirates Stadium had the best show in town. Defeat, when it arrived in Barcelona, was softened by gratitude. We’d been entertained, more than entertained.

Arsenal’s 5-1 surrender to Bayern Munich on 15 February was very different. In this capitulation by instalments, the fascination was macabre rather than dramatic. Having long given up on discerning signs of life, we began the post-mortem mid-match. As we pored over the entrails, the curiosity lay in the extent of the malady that had brought down the body. The same question, over and over: how could such an intelligent, deep-thinking manager preside over a hollowed-out team? How could failings so obvious to outsiders, the absence of steel and resilience, evade the judgement of the boss?

There is a saying in rugby union that forwards (the hard men) determine who wins, and the backs (the glamour boys) decide by how much. Here is a footballing equivalent: midfielders define matches, attacking players adorn them and defenders get the blame. Yet Arsenal’s players as good as vacated the midfield. It is hard to judge how well Bayern’s playmakers performed because they were operating in a vacuum; it looked like a morale-boosting training-ground drill, free from the annoying presence of opponents.

I have always been suspicious of the ­default English critique which posits that mentally fragile teams can be turned around by licensed on-field violence – a good kicking, basically. Sporting “character” takes many forms; physical assertiveness is only one dimension.

Still, it remains baffling, Wenger’s blind spot. He indulges artistry, especially the mercurial Mesut Özil, beyond the point where it serves the player. Yet he won’t protect the magicians by surrounding them with effective but down-to-earth talents. It has become a diet of collapsing soufflés.

What held back Wenger from buying the linchpin midfielder he has lacked for many years? Money is only part of the explanation. All added up, Arsenal do spend: their collective wage bill is the fourth-highest in the League. But Wenger has always been reluctant to lavish cash on a single star player, let alone a steely one. Rather two nice players than one great one.

The power of habit has become debilitating. Like a wealthy but conservative shopper who keeps going back to the same clothes shop, Wenger habituates the same strata of the transfer market. When he can’t get what he needs, he’s happy to come back home with something he’s already got, ­usually an elegant midfielder, tidy passer, gets bounced in big games, prone to going missing. Another button-down blue shirt for a drawer that is well stuffed.

It is almost universally accepted that, as a business, Arsenal are England’s leading club. Where their rivals rely on bailouts from oligarchs or highly leveraged debt, Arsenal took tough choices early and now appear financially secure – helped by their manager’s ability to engineer qualification for the Champions League every season while avoiding excessive transfer costs. Does that count for anything?

After the financial crisis, I had a revealing conversation with the owner of a private bank that had sailed through the turmoil. Being cautious and Swiss, he explained, he had always kept more capital reserves than the norm. As a result, the bank had made less money in boom years. “If I’d been a normal chief executive, I’d have been fired by the board,” he said. Instead, when the economic winds turned, he was much better placed than more bullish rivals. As a competitive strategy, his winning hand was only laid bare by the arrival of harder times.

In football, however, the crash never came. We all wrote that football’s insane spending couldn’t go on but the pace has only quickened. Even the Premier League’s bosses confessed to being surprised by the last extravagant round of television deals – the cash that eventually flows into the hands of managers and then the pockets of players and their agents.

By refusing to splash out on the players he needed, whatever the cost, Wenger was hedged for a downturn that never arrived.

What an irony it would be if football’s bust comes after he has departed. Imagine the scenario. The oligarchs move on, finding fresh ways of achieving fame, respectability and the protection achieved by entering the English establishment. The clubs loaded with debt are forced to cut their spending. Arsenal, benefiting from their solid business model, sail into an outright lead, mopping up star talent and trophies all round.

It’s often said that Wenger – early to invest in data analytics and worldwide scouts; a pioneer of player fitness and lifestyle – was overtaken by imitators. There is a second dimension to the question of time and circumstance. He helped to create and build Arsenal’s off-field robustness, even though football’s crazy economics haven’t yet proved its underlying value.

If the wind turns, Arsène Wenger may face a frustrating legacy: yesterday’s man and yet twice ahead of his time. 

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

This article first appeared in the 24 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The world after Brexit