General Mamduh Shahin (R) and army spokesman Ismail Etman. Photograph: Getty Images
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Forget the Egyptian Brotherhood, says Mehdi Hasan - it’s the generals who should worry us

Morsi is far, far from perfect - but we shouldn't write him off yet.

Should we be worried by the Muslim Brotherhood’s victory in the Egyptian presidential election? Earlier this year, I interviewed Wael Ghonim, the young Google executive and anti-Mubarak activist who became the face of Egypt’s inspiring revolution back in January and February of 2011.

Was he concerned by the Muslim Brotherhood’s victory in Egypt’s parliamentary elections in December? “No,” he said. “The western media, and even some sections of the Arab media, are taking a very pessimistic view. But what is going on here is very healthy. The Muslim Brotherhood was the strongest party and got almost 50 per cent of the seats.” He argued: “We should give democracy a chance and respect the choices of the Egyptian people.”

Six months on, Ghonim remains hopeful. “1st elected civilian in modern history of Egypt as President,” he tweeted, after the Muslim Brotherhood’s Mohammed Morsi’s cliffhanger victory over the Mubarak loyalist and ex-premier Ahmed Shafiq in the presidential run-off on 24 June. “Critical milestone. Revolution isn’t an event, it’s a process so it continues!”

There is a stark contrast between the undim­med optimism of Ghonim – the young, secular, liberal Egyptian activist – and the pessimism of western politicians and pundits, petrified by the rise of the dastardly Muslim Brotherhood. The latter, the world’s oldest and most influential Islamist movement, is seen by many as a threat to women’s rights, non-Muslims and, of course, western interests in the Middle East.

Bigger picture

We need to take a collective step back and look again at the big picture. The Arab world’s most populous nation has, for the first time, elected its own head of state in a multi-candidate, free and fair election. The repulsive Hosni Mubarak and his corrupt sons are gone; their 30-year reign of terror is over. Lest we forget, in 2006, Morsi was in prison and Mubarak was in the presidential palace; today, just six years later, Mubarak is in prison and Morsi is in the palace. This is a remarkable and historic moment for Egypt, and for the wider Arab world.

That said, Morsi is far from perfect. He wasn’t even the Muslim Brotherhood’s first choice as presidential candidate (the party’s deputy chairman, Khairat al-Shater, was barred from standing). Morsi is a 9/11 conspiracy theorist (“Something must have happened from the inside,” he declared in May 2010) who has said that the state should enforce sharia law and has called for women and Christians to be banned from running for president.

But we shouldn’t write him off – yet. On winning the election, he promptly quit the Brotherhood, pledged to be the “president of all Egyptians” and promised to appoint a cabinet of “technocrats”, not card-carrying Islamists.

Here in the west, however, our obsession with Muslim Brothers such as Morsi distracts attention from two points. First, the changes we want to see in the Middle East won’t happen overnight. Revolutions, as Ghonim pointed out, take time. Yet there seems to be a wilful amnesia on the part of some pessimistic pundits in the west.

At a recent Oxford Union debate on the future of the Arab spring, a retired US general, Keith Dayton, decried the ongoing discrimi­nation against women, homosexuals and religious minorities in countries such as Egypt and Libya. I couldn’t help but point out to the good general that it took his own country, “the land of the free”, 89 years, between independence in 1776 and the passage of the Thirteenth Amendment in 1865, to abolish slavery. Here in the UK, there was a 96-year gap between the first Reform Act of 1832, which extended the franchise to property owners, and the sixth Reform Act of 1928, which gave women the vote on the same terms as men.

Second, the most powerful man in Egypt is not President-Elect Morsi but Field Marshal Hussein Tantawi, the chairman of the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (Scaf), which, in effect, has ruled Egypt since Mubarak left office on 11 February 2011.

It is the military that dominates modern Egyptian politics. All four presidents since a group of officers overthrew the monarchy in 1952 have come from the military. The country’s armed forces – the world’s tenth-biggest – are believed to control between 30 and 40 per cent of the Egyptian economy. And in June Scaf dissolved the elected parliament and claimed legislative power for itself. Egypt, in the words of one commentator, is a military with a state rather than a state with a military.

Making waives

Shamefully, the United States has spent the past three decades propping up Egypt’s generals. Since the 1979 Egypt-Israel peace treaty, the US has lavished $35bn in aid on the Egyptian military, making it the largest recipient of US military and economic aid after Israel.

But things have changed since the fall of Mubarak, right? Wrong. “Once imperilled, US aid to Egypt is restored”, read the headline in the New York Times on 23 March. In December 2011, President Obama signed a law that required the Egyptian government to support the transition to civilian government and protect freedoms of speech and assembly before any US military aid could be approved. But, said the NYT, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton “used her authority under the new law to waive a requirement that she certify Egypt’s protection of human rights”, thereby allowing “the Egyptian military to continue to arm and equip its forces”. So much for Obama’s vow, in May 2011, “to promote reform across the region, and to support transitions to democracy”.

The biggest obstacles to greater freedom and democracy in Egypt are the generals, not the Brothers. Yet they, too, like their former boss Mubarak, as well as their paymasters in the US, are on the wrong side of history. The “reform genie”, as an unnamed western dip­lomat told the Financial Times on 20 June, is out of the bottle. The Egyptian people, whether secularist or Islamist, Muslim or Christian, won’t tolerate another three decades of Mubarak-style rule. As Ghonim told his half-million followers on Twitter in June: “The only thing that will make us go back to living in fear, oppression and silence is a time machine – they haven’t invented that yet.”

Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the co-author of Ed: The Milibands and the Making of a Labour Leader. He was the New Statesman's senior editor (politics) from 2009-12.

This article first appeared in the 02 July 2012 issue of the New Statesman, Clegg the martyr

Photo: Getty
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The Prevent strategy needs a rethink, not a rebrand

A bad policy by any other name is still a bad policy.

Yesterday the Home Affairs Select Committee published its report on radicalization in the UK. While the focus of the coverage has been on its claim that social media companies like Facebook, Twitter and YouTube are “consciously failing” to combat the promotion of terrorism and extremism, it also reported on Prevent. The report rightly engages with criticism of Prevent, acknowledging how it has affected the Muslim community and calling for it to become more transparent:

“The concerns about Prevent amongst the communities most affected by it must be addressed. Otherwise it will continue to be viewed with suspicion by many, and by some as “toxic”… The government must be more transparent about what it is doing on the Prevent strategy, including by publicising its engagement activities, and providing updates on outcomes, through an easily accessible online portal.”

While this acknowledgement is good news, it is hard to see how real change will occur. As I have written previously, as Prevent has become more entrenched in British society, it has also become more secretive. For example, in August 2013, I lodged FOI requests to designated Prevent priority areas, asking for the most up-to-date Prevent funding information, including what projects received funding and details of any project engaging specifically with far-right extremism. I lodged almost identical requests between 2008 and 2009, all of which were successful. All but one of the 2013 requests were denied.

This denial is significant. Before the 2011 review, the Prevent strategy distributed money to help local authorities fight violent extremism and in doing so identified priority areas based solely on demographics. Any local authority with a Muslim population of at least five per cent was automatically given Prevent funding. The 2011 review pledged to end this. It further promised to expand Prevent to include far-right extremism and stop its use in community cohesion projects. Through these FOI requests I was trying to find out whether or not the 2011 pledges had been met. But with the blanket denial of information, I was left in the dark.

It is telling that the report’s concerns with Prevent are not new and have in fact been highlighted in several reports by the same Home Affairs Select Committee, as well as numerous reports by NGOs. But nothing has changed. In fact, the only change proposed by the report is to give Prevent a new name: Engage. But the problem was never the name. Prevent relies on the premise that terrorism and extremism are inherently connected with Islam, and until this is changed, it will continue to be at best counter-productive, and at worst, deeply discriminatory.

In his evidence to the committee, David Anderson, the independent ombudsman of terrorism legislation, has called for an independent review of the Prevent strategy. This would be a start. However, more is required. What is needed is a radical new approach to counter-terrorism and counter-extremism, one that targets all forms of extremism and that does not stigmatise or stereotype those affected.

Such an approach has been pioneered in the Danish town of Aarhus. Faced with increased numbers of youngsters leaving Aarhus for Syria, police officers made it clear that those who had travelled to Syria were welcome to come home, where they would receive help with going back to school, finding a place to live and whatever else was necessary for them to find their way back to Danish society.  Known as the ‘Aarhus model’, this approach focuses on inclusion, mentorship and non-criminalisation. It is the opposite of Prevent, which has from its very start framed British Muslims as a particularly deviant suspect community.

We need to change the narrative of counter-terrorism in the UK, but a narrative is not changed by a new title. Just as a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, a bad policy by any other name is still a bad policy. While the Home Affairs Select Committee concern about Prevent is welcomed, real action is needed. This will involve actually engaging with the Muslim community, listening to their concerns and not dismissing them as misunderstandings. It will require serious investigation of the damages caused by new Prevent statutory duty, something which the report does acknowledge as a concern.  Finally, real action on Prevent in particular, but extremism in general, will require developing a wide-ranging counter-extremism strategy that directly engages with far-right extremism. This has been notably absent from today’s report, even though far-right extremism is on the rise. After all, far-right extremists make up half of all counter-radicalization referrals in Yorkshire, and 30 per cent of the caseload in the east Midlands.

It will also require changing the way we think about those who are radicalized. The Aarhus model proves that such a change is possible. Radicalization is indeed a real problem, one imagines it will be even more so considering the country’s flagship counter-radicalization strategy remains problematic and ineffective. In the end, Prevent may be renamed a thousand times, but unless real effort is put in actually changing the strategy, it will remain toxic. 

Dr Maria Norris works at London School of Economics and Political Science. She tweets as @MariaWNorris.