The People's Republic: the rise of civil disobedience in Egypt

As Egypt celebrates the second anniversary of the 25 January revolution, cities are threatening to declare independence from central government.

On the second anniversary of Egypt's 25 January Revolution, thousands are expected to gather on Tahrir Square, Cairo's firmly established protest space.

The haphazard village of demonstration tents and vendors, which has been walled in by security barricades, has become a permanent fixture. 

Muslim Brotherhood President Mohamed Morsi, who famously bared his chest to the square during his first speech as president in July 2012, now appears to be largely ignoring the rallying point. 

It has become a permissible area to demonstrate, critics say rendering it ineffective.

"Egypt's political and social movement has realised that dissent isn't just through a presence in a square. We've seen more and more attempts at organisation on a community, university and factory level," says Hisham Fouad, a labour expert and founder of the Children of the Land research centre.

The struggle for social and political rights has expanded across different sectors and entered different venues, he adds, highlighting in particular calls in December and January for civil disobedience.

"The recent battle over the constitution was waged across governorates and wasn't concentrated in Cairo – pockets of dissent fought this battle throughout Egypt's cities."

Vote of no confidence

In December, against the backdrop of a deepening political crisis, several of Egypt's major cities including Alexandria, Mahalla – the country's industrial capital – and Suez declared independence from Morsi's government.

Even Cairo's Moqattam district, which houses the central headquarters of the Brotherhood, announced they would withdraw from the state.

These recent collective actions were precipitated by the president's decision to push through a controversial constitution drafted by an Islamist-dominated constituent assembly, after granting himself unfettered authorities.

With little change two years on from the ouster of Mubarak, there are plans to repeat these calls for independence in 2013.

Influential activist Mamdouh Amir, one of the seven authors of Mahalla's 7 December independence declaration, explains that the industrial city's independence was not a direct withdrawal from the Egyptian state "flag and all".

Rather it was an expression of defiance against the "lawlessness of the state that is buttressed by the ruling political elite."

"It was a symbolic action to encourage people to strive for a more comprehensive civil disobedience on a nationwide scale in the future," adds Alaa Bahlaan, founding member of Mahalla's local branch of Mohamed ElBaradei's Constitution Party, who were signatories to the city's declaration of independence.

Activists in Alexandria, Egypt's “second city”, inspired by events in Mahalla immediately followed suit.

"People looked at Mahalla as a role model," explains Mahienour El-Massry, from Alexandria's Revolutionary Socialists, who saw the symbolic act as a creative means of delivering a warning shot to the regime.

Alexandria had initially attempted to declare independence during 2011's 18-day uprising, including selecting an alternate governor (a well-respected local judge) and securing the support of "state officials, governorate employees and tax collectors," who agreed to defect. 

But it was never made public, as the day chosen to oust Mubarak's government officials from the coastal city coincided with 11 February when Mubarak stepped down.

Over the past year, the failure of national and local government to interact with their constituencies, to empower the populace and to delegate authorities in a democratic and transparent manner continues to mean that power in Egypt has been concentrated into the hands of a privileged, political clique.

"We want to put forward a model government that is built on popular legitimacy and a respect of the law by creating an alternative or shadow council," explains Amir.

"We, as the nation's youth, want a lawful state. At the moment, the president of Egypt has completely deviated from the rule of law. This is apparent by his appropriation of judicial authorities in December."

Local decay and political alienation

The centralisation of Egypt's political structure has meant that outside of Cairo many citizens feel marginalised and alienated. On a local level, the public receive little or no services, seriously impacting their daily lives.

This is because deep-seated corruption in local governance remains rife on a nationwide level even after the uprising, claims Muhammed Abushaqra, a leading member of Alexandria's branch of the Constitution Party that joined the coastal city's bid for independence.

The problem is, Abushaqra continues, there has been no structural change: the system of local governance was directly inherited from the Mubarak regime.

The presidency appoints governors and their deputies, he explains, who in turn exercise complete control of the budget's purse strings and thus manipulate all local policies ranging from education to health to transportation.

"The governor is the only one running the show."

This also allows Morsi to place pro-government officials in these influential posts, El-Massry claims.

In Alexandria, she explains, the "much-hated deputy-governor" Hassan El-Brince is "one of the main public figures of the Muslim Brotherhood" who she says adopts the agenda of the Islamist group at every turn, not the people's.

At the moment in Egypt, the only elected body are the municipal councils, which are solely advisory boards. They have yet to be re-elected since their dissolution following the 25 January uprising.

Power is therefore concentrated exclusively in the governor's hands, leaving policymaking and budgetary decisions arguably the sole prerogative of the presidency and its local representative.

Favouritism and political calculations, not community needs, activists say, are the driving modus operandi.

"If the minister of finance favours a governor, he can put a couple of million pounds more in the budget…there is no transparency," Abushaqra says, adding that the people cannot, therefore, guarantee the money is going where it is most needed.

One example is the lack of investment in the country's public transport – dozens have died in multiple governorates over the past two months on Egypt's decrepit railways.

"Because of these inadequate services, citizens feel that the government treats them without any dignity," Bahlaan states. "Consequently, the idea of civil disobedience has progressed into calls to not pay electricity, sanitation, water and gas bills."

December's constitutional decree and the forced referendum represented a further affront to their dignity, he adds, spurring people to seek alternative means of protest. 

With the government further alienating itself from the people and Morsi set on staging the referendum at any cost, on 7 December, thousands in Mahalla marched on the city council.

One day later in Alexandria, revolutionaries were met with civilians "armed with swords and a machine gun" and then later security forces as they attempted to lay siege on the temporary offices of the governor, El-Massry explains.

Suez, and other cities followed.

"The new constitution supports the same arbitrary delegation of power," Abushaqra stresses, as the new national charter failed to stipulate that governors will be elected – a key demand of the 25 January Revolution.

"Everyone in Egypt is continuing to suffer from local corruption."

The most telling example of the state's complete failure on a local level is found in the villages.

The Republic of Tahsin

Tahsin, a Nile Delta village, last year declared complete independence from the state after two decades of neglect.

"The village doesn't have any services, no hospitals, no school; only half the village has electricity, not even a road," explains Wael Ghaly, a lawyer from the All Egyptians organisation that has been working on the village's case.

Following the 25 January uprising, villagers attempted to make contact with the newly appointed government, sending a delegation first to the governorate offices and eventually to Cairo. They even staged a protest outside the presidential palace but to no avail.

"Finally, the worst happened, a child fell ill with a fever and is now paralysed because they couldn’t get him to hospital in time; they couldn't drive a car down the dirt track to get him there in time," Ghaly explains.

It was the last straw, he continues, the final resort was declaring independence.

The village collectively decided to not pay taxes and have since become self-sufficient – bringing in generators to power the neighbourhood themselves.

"Another village in Sharqiya followed suit. But so far, even after making both public, there has been no response from the government."

History repeats itself

Civil disobedience is nothing new in Egypt, maintains Dr Stephen Zunes, a professor at the University of San Francisco who specialises in Middle Eastern politics and strategic non-violent action. The UK has much to do with this particular manifestation of dissent.

In 1919, Zunes explains, the Egyptian fight against British occupation, "largely consisted of general strikes, boycotts, resignations of officials. There is that legacy."

The historic "Republic of Zifta" was created in 1919, when the Nile Delta town, declared independence from the crown following the expulsion of leading Wafd member Saad Zaghloul Pasha. 

Even Gandhi himself, Zunes continues, was inspired by events in Egypt for his subsequent campaigns in India. "When he pioneered a lot of his ideas, like resistance of colonialism and pro-independent struggle, he spoke of Egypt as a model."

Certainly calls for the independence of Mahalla have been around since the 90s, when the city declared independence from the Gharbiya governorate.

The idea of a shadow council existed before the revolution and had Muslim Brothers in its ranks, says Amir, Mubarak's response was to say "let them entertain themselves'."

A way forward?

The moves towards independence have not been without controversy. 

Abushaqra admits that the average Egyptian "doesn't understand this movement very well and conversely thinks that such a revolutionary outrage is against stability."

Critics also say it divides vital national unity, at a time when there is significant political unrest across the country.

Alexandria deputy governor El-Brince was unavailable for comment about the calls for independence.

However, Mamdouh El-Munir, spokesperson for the ruling Brotherhood Freedom and Justice Party in the Gharbiya governorate where Mahalla is located, maintains:

"[The moves for independence] are indicative of an ideological bankruptcy. Either it is a weakness in political thought or an inability to present ideas to people, in turn the opposition has resorted to mere media spectacle."

El-Munir slammed the actions as overhyped.

"I believe if you were enter the city of Mahalla you would not be asked for your passport or an entrance visa. All that happened was that a group of youth published a statement online declaring independence for their own town.  In essence, a load of hot air."

Bahlaan however, believes that Islamists and government supporters do not understand the symbolism of the move, that he says, was a preliminary step to familiarise people with the concept of civil disobedience.

Abushaqra agrees "We must make an effort in translating and interpreting these high principals into local and developmental terms."

"People in the past have dealt with calls for a general strike or civil disobedience lightly, not knowing the rules of the game and what is really needed to actualise such forms of dissent," Fouad states.

Just last week, he continues, Mahalla community leaders and activists managed to force the head of the city council to discuss their grievances with the city's public services and begin negotiations.

In addition, on 22 January, as part of the lead up to the 25 January anniversary celebrations, separate revolutionary forces staged a "stop for an hour" act of disobedience.

Price hikes on basic amenities, worsening economic conditions as well as recurring water and electricity outages will ensure continued political opposition on the ground.

All of those involved in the calls for independence say they will wield this revolutionary weapon again in 2013. More are joining.

Currently in the pipeline, the restive city of Port Said has threatened to declare independence next week – in addition to women's movements using Facebook to express a vote of no confidence in Morsi's administration.

"The collective consciousness of the people is moving towards a realisation of a new tool to push President Morsi to change his policies," Abushaqra concludes, "Innovation is going to take place – local independence is just one way."

 

Egyptians carry a wounded protestor during clashes with riot police in Tahrir Square on 25 January 2013. Photograph: Getty Images
Hamzah al Zobi
Show Hide image

Meet the Syrians using education to escape the refugee camps

On the bus to university with Syrian refugees in Jordan. 

The bus to Zarqa University leaves Jordan’s largest refugee camp at 7am sharp. The journey is one of the day’s highlights for the Syrian students who ride this route - a chance to plan weekend get-togethers, bemoan heavy course loads and even enjoy the occasional school-bus style sing-along. It’s also their daily ticket out of Za’atari camp and a means of escaping the dreary realities of refugee life.

“We are the lucky ones. Most had to give up their dreams of higher education” says 19-year-old Reema Nasser Al Hamad, whose family fled to Jordan five years ago when bombs destroyed her home in Dara’a, Syria. She shudders to think of the alternatives: aimless days spent sitting in a crowded caravan, or early marriage. “After the war, students in Syria lost their cities, their opportunities and their futures, so many of the girls just married when they got here. There’s a huge difference between the lives of those who study and those who don’t.”

Despite missing two years of school, Reema (pictured below) was able to pass her exams before securing a Saudi-funded scholarship to study Pharmacy at Zaraq’ University. “In Syria, I’d planned to do medicine and be a doctor because I always had high grades. There are fewer choices for us here but I’m happy to be studying at all,” she says. Hamza al Zobi, who’s studying Pharmacy on an the EU-funded EDU-Syria programnme, says young Syrians are hungry to learn. “We all have friends and relatives who didn’t get this chance and we feel so upset for them. If they’re not well educated, how can they go back and do the right thing for our country?”

More than a quarter of 18-24 year olds in Syria were enrolled in higher education when the war broke out. “Based on data provided by UNHCR we assess that around 20,000 young Syrians in Jordan would qualify for vocational education and higher education,” says Job Arts, Programme Manager Education and Youth, EU Delegation to Jordan, which is supporting some 1800 Syrians and disadvantaged Jordanians on degree courses in Jordan.

“While the number of places for Syrian students to pursue their education has increased dramatically over the past few years, there are still many more interested students than spaces available for study,” says Sarah Dryden-Peterson, non-resident Fellow at the Center for Universal Education at the Brookings Institution. “Without these possibilities, young Syrians will lose the kind of hope that is essential to productive futures.”

According to the Jordan Response Platform for the Syria Crisis, 1,250 Syrian youth were in higher education in Jordan in 2016. Building on commitments made by the international community at the London Conference on Syria last year, the Jordanian government hopes to secure funding to increase access to tertiary education and vocational training at the upcoming conference in Brussels this April.

“Jordan views higher education from a strategic point of view, specifically in terms of providing the Syrian youth with the education, skill and knowledge that will allow the opportunity to be part of rebuilding their country once the current situation comes to an end,” says Feda Gharaibeh, Director, Humanitarian Relief Coordination Unit at the Jordanian Ministry of Planning & International Cooperation.

Reema plans to return to Syria when the war is over. “After graduation a lot of students want to go to Europe. That would be fine for me too if it’s just to do a masters or doctorate, but then I want to go back to Syria and use what I’ve learnt to help my people.” Now four semesters into her course, she is making good progress but says adapting to the Jordanian education system was a challenge. “It’s really difficult for us. Classes are taught in English and the teaching style is different. They also have a lot more exams here.”

Only the brightest stand a chance of securing a scholarship but many young Syrians have seen their grades plummet after missing years of schooling. For, some, it’s too late to catch up. Accountancy student Ibrahim Mohammed, 23, came to Jordan in 2013 with his younger brother Khalil, now 19, who works in a print shop. “He stopped studying when he was 14. He didn’t even have a chance to get his high school certificate,” says Ibrahim.

Attempts to bridge the gap through open and distance learning programmes aren’t always effective. “It’s not a tool that is frequently used in the education environment in the Middle East,” explains Arts. Refugee students' access to electricity, internet connections, computers and space to study can be in short supply. Moreover, many students seek the escapism that a university education offers. “In our dialogue with parents and students, we often hear the phrase ‘being normal again’,” Arts adds.

Hamzah tries to help fellow students achieve this in his role as representative for the Syrian community at Zarqa University. He and Reema are part of a team that offers advice to new students and support for those from poorer families living in the camps. “There are 900 Syrian students here and each one has a different story of suffering,” says Hamzah, who organises group trips to restaurants and fairgrounds, helping to create a sense of regular student life. “It makes us forget what we are,” explains Reema.

During term time, she prefers to stay with her uncle in Mafraq, a city nearby. It’s hard to study in Za’atari. As soon as the power comes on at 5pm, her brothers switch on the TV, making it difficult to concentrate in the cramped caravan they share. There’s nowhere else to go; the camp is dangerous at night, particularly for young women. It’s even more crowded since the arrival of her baby sister. Reema remembers how her mother sobbed when she learned of the pregnancy, worried about bringing another child into the makeshift world of the camp.

But in five years a lot has changed. “In Syria, I had never left my village; now I feel there is another world to know,” says Reema. Like many Syrian students, she worries about life after university, particularly if they stay in Jordan where employment opportunities remain restricted for Syrian refugees. “It seems like work is forbidden to us Syrians and without a job we can’t take control of our lives. We’re studying hard but with no prospects,” says Hamzah. Few can see beyond graduation. “The future is opaque for us,” he adds, “We’re just living day by day.”

To date, the Jordanian government has issued some 39,000 works permits out of the 200,000 it pledged to make available for Syrians during the London Conference last February. However, with these opportunities built around low-income roles, primarily in the construction, agriculture, and textile manufacture sectors, the way for Syrian university graduates in Jordan still seems barred.

“Jordan is a small country with limited job opportunities,” says Ghaith Rababah Head of Projects & International Cooperation Unit (PICU) at the Ministry of Higher Education & Scientific Research. “Maybe the market will be better able to absorb educated Syrians at a later stage.”

In the meantime, higher education offers young Syrians a semblance of the security and stability their lives otherwise lack, Rababah continues. Given the opportunity to “use their talents for something good”, he adds, young people placed in difficult situations are less likely to fall prey to extremist ideologies and be “tricked into committing terrorist acts".