General Mamduh Shahin (R) and army spokesman Ismail Etman. Photograph: Getty Images
Show Hide image

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

Getty
Show Hide image

The deafening killer - why noise will be the next great pollution scandal

A growing body of evidence shows that noise can have serious health impacts too. 

Our cities are being poisoned by a toxin that surrounds us day and night. It eats away at our brains, hurts our hearts, clutches at our sleep, and gnaws at the quality of our daily lives.

Hardly a silent killer, it gets short shrift compared to the well-publicised terrors of air pollution and sugars food. It is the dull, thumping, stultifying drum-beat of perpetual noise.

The score that accompanies city life is brutal and constant. It disrupts the everyday: The coffee break ruined by the screech of a line of double decker buses braking at the lights. The lawyer’s conference call broken by drilling as she makes her way to the office. The writer’s struggle to find a quiet corner to pen his latest article.

For city-dwellers, it’s all-consuming and impossible to avoid. Construction, traffic, the whirring of machinery, the neighbour’s stereo. Even at home, the beeps and buzzes made by washing machines, fridges, and phones all serve to distract and unsettle.

But the never-ending noisiness of city life is far more than a problem of aesthetics. A growing body of evidence shows that noise can have serious health impacts too. Recent studies have linked noise pollution to hearing loss, sleep deprivation, hypertension, heart disease, brain development, and even increased risk of dementia.

One research team compared families living on different stories of the same building in Manhattan to isolate the impact of noise on health and education. They found children in lower, noisier floors were worse at reading than their higher-up peers, an effect that was most pronounced for children who had lived in the building for longest.

Those studies have been replicated for the impact of aircraft noise with similar results. Not only does noise cause higher blood pressure and worsens quality of sleep, it also stymies pupils trying to concentrate in class.

As with many forms of pollution, the poorest are typically the hardest hit. The worst-off in any city often live by busy roads in poorly-insulated houses or flats, cheek by jowl with packed-in neighbours.

The US Department of Transport recently mapped road and aircraft noise across the United States. Predictably, the loudest areas overlapped with some of the country’s most deprived. Those included the south side of Atlanta and the lowest-income areas of LA and Seattle.

Yet as noise pollution grows in line with road and air traffic and rising urban density, public policy has turned a blind eye.

Council noise response services, formally a 24-hour defence against neighbourly disputes, have fallen victim to local government cuts. Decisions on airport expansion and road development pay scant regard to their audible impact. Political platforms remain silent on the loudest poison.

This is odd at a time when we have never had more tools at our disposal to deal with the issue. Electric Vehicles are practically noise-less, yet noise rarely features in the arguments for their adoption. Just replacing today’s bus fleet would transform city centres; doing the same for taxis and trucks would amount to a revolution.

Vehicles are just the start. Millions were spent on a programme of “Warm Homes”; what about “Quiet Homes”? How did we value the noise impact in the decision to build a third runway at Heathrow, and how do we compensate people now that it’s going ahead?

Construction is a major driver of decibels. Should builders compensate “noise victims” for over-drilling? Or could regulation push equipment manufacturers to find new ways to dampen the sound of their kit?

Of course, none of this addresses the noise pollution we impose on ourselves. The bars and clubs we choose to visit or the music we stick in our ears. Whether pumping dance tracks in spin classes or indie rock in trendy coffee shops, people’s desire to compensate for bad noise out there by playing louder noise in here is hard to control for.

The Clean Air Act of 1956 heralded a new era of city life, one where smog and grime gave way to clear skies and clearer lungs. That fight still goes on today.

But some day, we will turn our attention to our clogged-up airwaves. The decibels will fall. #Twitter will give way to twitter. And every now and again, as we step from our homes into city life, we may just hear the sweetest sound of all. Silence.

Adam Swersky is a councillor in Harrow and is cabinet member for finance. He writes in a personal capacity.