An old and pernicious idea is back in
circulation since the July 3 coup. It was a running theme in the military ruler’s speech on July 24 where he demanded a popular mandate to “confront
terrorism.” Right on cue, government officials parroted it repeatedly in their
stern warnings to dissenters. Pro-military activists, politicians, and
intellectuals happily invoked it in their jihad against the Ikhwan. The idea is
haybat al-dawla, or the state’s standing and prestige, a central plank
of the Arab authoritarian order that’s making a big comeback.
Right after the speech, the statist line was on
everyone’s lips. The political adviser to the figurehead presidency asserted
that the state is mandated to confront terrorism at any time, that the state
and the people are in one camp, and that challenging haybat al-dawla in the
streets is unacceptable.
The president’s media adviser added that
El-Sisi’s call on citizens to demonstrate “is to protect the state and revolution.”
Abdel Latif al-Menawi, head of state TV under
Mubarak, croaked that he’s been warning about the loss of state prestige since
January 28, 2011.
Not to be outdone, civilian enthusiasts of
military rule hopped on the bandwagon. Former presidential candidate Hamdeen Sabahy’s group called for more proactive measures to recover the state’s
prestige. Activist Ahmed Douma said that he was heeding Sisi’s call to
demonstrate “to support state institutions and get rid of all forms of
terrorism.” The National Salvation Front practically begged the Interior
Minister to disband the Ikhwan’s sit-ins, “to reinforce the principle of a
state of laws and to preserve state prestige.”
Whether voiced out of conviction or rank
opportunism, defending the state is the favorite ideological vehicle of Egyptian
conservatives and counter-revolutionaries. Portraying the state as a sacred entity
whose standing is forever under threat rules out any talk of state reform. But
the really nefarious thing about haybat al-dawla is that it short-circuits any
attempt to democratize the state, to open up its commanding heights to popular election
and access. The implication is that the state can never change hands. It must
always remain under the auspices of permanent custodians.
Superstitious Reverence
I don’t know when the term originated, but Arab
state managers and their minions are obsessed with haybat al-dawla. Newspapers
periodically run hand-wringing articles fretting about the decline of state prestige, especially after the 2011 uprisings. The term is a perfect
mystification, casting an aura of mystery and gravitas on the reality of total
political control: control over society by the state, and control of the state
by an exclusive ruling caste.
The word hayba holds layers of meaning: fear,
dread, reverence, esteem, standing. Applied to the state, it creates an image of
a larger-than-life force demanding veneration and radiating intimidation. The
state becomes this mythical thing standing above a society of loyal supplicants
and disloyal outlaws.
Fetishizing the state is not an Arab
authoritarian invention. In 1891, Frederick Engels noted Germans’
“superstitious reverence for the state and everything connected with it.” Barely
concealing his contempt, Engels captured the generic ideology of state
veneration: “People from their childhood are accustomed to imagine that the
affairs and interests common to the whole of society could not be looked after
otherwise than as they have been looked after in the past, that is, through the
state and its well-paid officials.”
Masking Hereditary Rule
Books could be written about how Egyptians have
never succumbed to the ideology of state worship (and in fact, such books exist). Maybe
because of that, the project of state reverence refuses to die, peaking during
moments of widespread social protest.
Before the 2011 revolution, every time Egyptians
demonstrated to demand their rights from the state, haybat al-dawla was invoked
like a talisman to restore the status quo. In 2007 when protest fever spread to
many groups after the spectacular 2006 Mahalla workers’ strike, commentators fretted about how state standing was being undermined, while others rightly pointed out that haybat al-dawla reflected the anxieties of a police state.
After the revolution, the challenge to state
managers became existential. Not only had Egyptians broken the police backbone
of the state, they even wanted to democratize this state and put some of their
own people in top positions. They wanted free presidential elections, and
parliamentary elections, and a new constitution. They demanded an end to state
corruption, organized theft, and police rule. They wanted a state that works
for its people, not a predatory machine that fleeces and kills them.
This is all sacrilege for the exclusive class of
Egyptians who have come to see state office as their birthright. Whole chunks
of the state are hereditary fiefdoms. If you’re a foreign service officer, then
it’s probably because your father was. Same with the judiciary, the police,
public universities, and the state-funded culture industry, to say nothing of
cabinet portfolios. Hosni Mubarak merely wanted to extend the hereditary nature
of state office to the presidency, but the revolution ended that dream.
If family members of state elites are not in the
same line of government work, they’re in another. Former SCAF chief Mohamed Hussein
Tantawi’s wife drew a salary from a public electricity company well past
retirement age. The government terminated her contract only after her husband
was himself retired by former president Morsi. Similarly, General Sami Anan’s
wife continued to hold the No. 2 post in the Taxation Authority past retirement
age. Her subordinates protested vigorously against her, but she was only
retired when her husband was retired along with Tantawi.
The point is that over time, the Egyptian state
has come to be controlled by a privileged caste that’s not about to sit idly
and watch a popular revolution snatch its incredible perks. Of course the
ruling elite don’t come out and openly say this, though they say it privately
at their gaudy weddings and other tacky gatherings. They have to devise a
smokescreen for why ordinary citizens and counter-elites like the Muslim
Brothers can’t be let into the state sanctum. They call that smokescreen haybat
al-dawla.
State Prestige under Mohamed Morsi
Not surprisingly given his conservative, elitist
worldview, Mohamed Morsi tried to rehabilitate, not transform haybat al-dawla.
The Muslim Brothers have never looked kindly upon grassroots popular protests that
they don’t organize. One of the first things Morsi did as president was to
appoint a Mubarakist police chief to crack down on street protests. When protesters
lobbed Molotov cocktails at Ittehadeyya Palace in February, Ikhwan leaders
huffed and puffed about how this hurts state prestige.
The Muslim Brothers’ biggest miscalculation was
to assume that they could join the ruling caste and begin to wield the doctrine
of state prestige. Morsi worked very hard to court and appease the Mubarakist
security state and its business cronies, but he realized far too late that
these pillars of the old elite would never accept him and his confreres into
the ruling coalition.
And it wasn’t just the Mubarakist elite that rejected
Morsi. What’s remarkable is how the statist idea took hold among commentators on
the left, right and center. Here’s leftist journalist Khaled al-Sirgany, sounding
downright martial as he warns of state collapse and says angrily that Morsi and
the Muslim Brothers “don’t realize the meaning of the state and lack basic
skills to lead the first centralized state in history.”
And here’s centrist and former Islamist Mustafa
al-Naggar fulminating against Morsi for pursuing negotiations to release six
policemen and a soldier abducted in Sinai in May, instead of armed
confrontation with the captors. “What is happening? Has state standing fallen so
precipitously in everyone’s eyes to a point never imagined in our worst
nightmares?” Naggar then appeals to the military to “get angry,” to go ahead
and attack the hijackers and release the captives.
And then of course there’s the conservative Amr al-Shobaki,
dean of Egyptian statists. After Morsi’s ouster, he opined that the reason Morsi
failed is that the Muslim Brothers “have a deep hatred of the state and all its
institutions because throughout their history, the Brothers have had their own
organization and perhaps their own “parallel state.” So it’s not incumbent
state elites that have consistently excluded the Ikhwan, it’s the Ikhwan who’ve
excluded themselves.
Given the depth of the statist conviction among ostensible
independents, it’s hard to escape the conclusion that Morsi was maligned not so
much for what he did, but for who he is. Defenders of order and lovers of the
state cannot abide an outsider president, even a conservative one like Morsi
who did everything he could to join, not replace, the ruling caste.
A Militarized Restoration
In the end, haybat al-dawla is a fancy term to
dress up and mystify minority control of the state. Stripped of its grandiose
aura, “state prestige” is a byword for exclusion, for walling off the state
from regular citizens and their revolutionary demands for state accountability,
protection, and public services. Like an exclusive club on well-tended grounds,
the Egyptian state and its military controllers do not allow public access. If
the Muslim Brothers were so violently cast out, despite their polite deference
to the ruling elite, then the message is: the state is off limits to everyone.
To me this is one of the most sobering lessons
of the aborted Morsi presidency. The popularly-supported coup is quite a
triumph for the Mubarakist ruling caste and the doctrine that the state is
theirs to run. They can lay on thick the rhetoric of haybat al-dawla and
restoring state standing, but what’s really been restored and re-legitimated is
their complete control of the state.
Since the military leads the ruling caste, and
sets the agenda and talking points for their civilian subordinates, political conflict
is now cast as military conflict. Look no further than the military ruler’s
discourse portraying resistance to his putsch as a battle between patriots and
enemies. Oppositional sit-ins are threats to national security. Participants in
the sit-ins are duped simpletons or paid agents. Their leaders are terrorists
and killers. And any opposition to the military’s road map is a threat to state
standing.
The challenges confronting the revolutionary
project couldn’t be more daunting. It not only faces a reconstituted,
militarized anti-revolutionary order, but a wicked ideology that naturalizes
that order as a matter of state standing. State standing boils down to the
prestige of the state’s hard core, military and police. And the revolution’s great
promise of endowing citizens with full political standing is in abeyance.