NewsBreakingOnline

Energised by the Tahrir Square revolt, Egyptians are now struggling to cast a new political mould for the country Overlooking the Nile in the heart of Cairo, a few hundred metres from Tahrir Square, stands the charred headquarters of the now defunct National Democratic party. Its smashed windows and blackened facade symbolise the fall of Hosni Mubarak’s regime on 11 February. It is eerily deserted, apart from a lone sentry slumped by the gate at night. The square itself, centre of the political earthquake, has become a tourist attraction where revolutionary T-shirts, stickers and other memorabilia vie with the model sphinxes, pyramids and papyrus on sale in the souvenir shops. It’s as if the extraordinary events of the recent past already belong to ancient history. But Egypt’s revolution is unfinished business, its immediate prospects clouded by insecurity, economic worries and sectarian violence. The generals who so dramatically ditched their commander-in-chief remain in charge of the interim civilian government. Sunday marks the 100th day since Mubarak was ousted, but there are still many question marks about the future. Parliamentary elections are due in September, before a new constitution defining the powers of the president and other key issues is written, and Mubarak’s successor may not be chosen before next spring. But apathy, bred by decades of autocracy, has been replaced by an electrifying sense of new possibilities. As the Arab spring fades into a bloody summer in Libya, Syria and Yemen, Egypt’s relatively peaceful achievement – thought it still cost at least 846 deaths – looks stupendous but fragile. “Mubarak is facing trial, his sons are both in jail and the Muslim Brotherhood are appearing on TV,” laughed Amr Khafagi, editor of the liberal al-Shourouk newspaper. “That’s all magic. But this is the new reality here.” Egyptians from all walks of life look back with passion and disbelief to the 18 days of revolt in Tahrir Square, yet there is real alarm at the problems piling up. “High expectations and many dangers,” frets Osama Ghazali Harb, leader of the Democratic Front party. A senior civil servant said: “The euphoria has taken its course. Now the questions are, ‘will the trains run on time, will the factories produce goods, will the workers be disciplined?’ Egyptians go from one extreme to the other. People like tranquillity and stability.” Signs of disorder are rife. Naguib, a middle-aged engineer, watched pro- and anti-Mubarak demonstrators chanting abuse at each other outside the state TV building, nervous black-uniformed troops separating them. “I salute those who made the revolution. But now it’s total chaos. We can’t go on like this. We can’t have these excessive freedoms.” Cairo’s notorious traffic seems worse than before. The absence of police, together with the contempt in which they are now held, means that minibuses triple-park, and tuc-tuc rickshaws buzz along the already choked main roads instead of the back alleys where they are supposed to stay. Lawlessness is routine. Police stations are attacked to free detainees, and hospital staff are abused and beaten if they seem slow to treat patients. Even more alarming is the notion that a counter-revolution is at work. It is widely believed that “remnants” of the National Democratic party are orchestrating acts of thuggery and encouraging hardline fundamentalist Salafis to stir up trouble – in incidents such as the armed attack on a Coptic church last week in which 12 people died in the working-class Cairo neighbourhood of Imbaba. The Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, led by Field-Marshal Mohamed Tantawi, had been criticised for breaking up student protests while soft-pedalling on the Salafis, but it won praise for a belated tough response to Imbaba. “People are pleased the army cracked down,” said Mansour Taha, a 20-something office worker. “We’ve been waiting for this. Egypt needs strong leaders.” Optimists say they believe the council will keep its promise and hand over power at the earliest opportunity. “The military can run the country but they can’t rule it,” said the media entrepreneur Hisham Kassem. “These are professional soldiers, not Nasser and the rebels of 1952. And Mubarak made sure his top brass didn’t have political aspirations.” Still, there is much talk of a secret deal or understanding with the Muslim Brotherhood and speculation that the military may in the end field its own presidential candidate, perhaps a recently retired general. It is a worry that the hated emergency laws have not yet been repealed. “Tantawi and the others are still loyal to the Mubarak mindset to some degree,” said Mamoun Fandy, a columnist. Pragmatists retort that there is no choice but to trust the generals. “It’s easy for revolutionaries to attack the military,” said Hani Shukrallah, the veteran al-Ahram commentator. “But the fact is that any confrontation with them will fail. Look at Syria and Libya. Even if you split the military you will have civil war.” For George Ishaak, a founder of the grassroots movement Kefaya, which captured the spirit of Tahrir back in 2005, the answer is to keep up the pressure on the army – as happened in mid-April when momentum flagged but new rallies in the square prompted the sensational arrest of Mubarak and his sons, Alaa and Gamal. Last week there were cheers when people heard that Mubarak’s wife, Suzanne, had been detained. The trials of regime loyalists, especially the hated former interior minister Habib al-Adly, are good for morale and reinforce the sense that whatever difficulties lie ahead, epoch-making changes have already taken place. Shukrallah describes a fitful process of “one step back and two steps forward”. It is clear, however, that casting a new Egyptian political mould will not be easy. Old and new, secular and liberal, parties are struggling to get their act together in time for September’s parliamentary elections, at which, many predict, there will be a strong showing for the well-organised Muslim Brotherhood, banned under the old regime. The referendum in March on a new constitution, the 77% yes vote creating a fast timetable for change, was seen as giving a significant advantage to the Islamists. But it may also have reflected a widespread desire for stability – perhaps the most popular word in the Egyptian political lexicon. The 44% turnout, which was vast compared with any Mubarak-era election, was a healthy sign of an unfamiliar sense of civic duty and belief in the possibilities of reform. Overall, Egypt’s mood is one of optimism tempered by a sober realisation of the scale of the challenges ahead for the largest country in the Arab world, which is now inspiring others in the region for the first time since Nasser. It is true there is no clear answer to the much debated question of exactly what constitutes a revolution, but there is no doubt that illiteracy, lack of opportunities, corruption, poverty and inequality all remain formidably difficult issues for any government in Cairo. “The situation is very tense because there is a mixture of fear and concern … or worry that this might turn out a nightmare,” said Mona Makram-Ebeid, an academic and former MP. “But at the same time there is a lot of hope. Before I was too optimistic. I thought things could settle down sooner. But this was not a tea party. It was a revolution after all.” Egypt Arab and Middle East unrest Hosni Mubarak Ian Black guardian.co.uk