In 2011, I, like most Egyptians at the time, had little hope that the Hosni Mubarak regime would ever end. His 30 years in power had been distinguished by systematic human rights violations. His pathological concern for his own safety had resulted in a vast autocratic and bureaucratic state, with little civil or political freedom. Unemployment was high. Wages were low. The business was controlled by Mubarak’s family and his immediate circle. Police were involved in beatings, sexual abuse and other forms of torture. Opposition figures were sentenced to years in prison by military tribunals.
I knew there were planned protests against the Mubarak security establishment when I left Egypt for business on January 24th. At the time, he mainly lived abroad and thought that these protests would be of no importance. But what I read, watched on TV and listened to from friends for the next 17 days changed everything. Millions of Egyptians took to the streets demanding change, and for the first time in many years, I began to have hope. I began to dream of a better Egypt, and there were many like me: many who had left the public domain and were now heading to Egypt to play a role in shaping their future.
Back on February 13, just two days after Mubarak’s dismissal, everyone on the plane was full of joy. Everyone was talking; it was as if a large family was coming home together, full of hope. Passengers applauded when the pilot announced the landing and began to hug when he stopped. I will never forget that day.
I wanted to help build the new Egypt. I was one of the 100 people elected to form the assembly that drafted the new constitution and I was chosen to be its general secretary. I was appointed Minister of Planning and International Cooperation. The work was varied, but there was much to do and no time to waste. Our goal was to build institutions that would consolidate the democratic values we believe in.
Many mistakes were made. It was inevitable after 30 years of political stagnation. And most importantly, politicians didn’t realize they had to remove the deep state, not just the head. But my enthusiasm never faded for the next two and a half years, until the army regained control in 2013. I threw myself into all the activities I could. We strove to write an appropriate constitution for post-revolutionary Egypt, one that reflected the wishes of the people and put an end to the madness of the 1971 document, which gave unlimited power and time in office. However, there was great tension in the air and a deep division among the Egyptians.
I was in Moscow for rallies in 2013 when the Egyptian army gave its 48-hour ultimatum to the government, telling it to “resolve its differences” with protesters, who had been gathering across the country for several days. against the presidency of Mohamed Morsi. I knew what I was feeling were the first tremors of an impending coup. As I returned to Egypt on the evening of July 2, my spirits were discouraging, far removed from the excitement I experienced after the revolution against Mubarak. The next day, the military coup was launched by the head of the army, General Abdel Fatah al-Sisi, now president of Egypt.
After the coup, I spoke with several delegates from the international community. We, elected politicians of Egypt, were simply told to accept the military coup. I met Catherine Ashton, the EU High Representative for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy. I met William Burns, who arrived a week before Sisi’s forces killed nearly 1,000 people in Rabaa. (Burns is now the candidate to be Joe Biden’s new CIA director.) I met many other international delegates. They all said the same thing: “accept reality.” John Kerry, then U.S. Secretary of State, said the military takeover had been done in the name of democracy.
Perhaps the international community was not complicit in the coup, nor was the bloodshed that ensued. But he whitewashed the event and his support for Sisi, now and then, is one of the main reasons for the resistance of his regime.
Ten years after the start of the Arab Spring, the general who became President Sisi, backed by the free world, has made Egypt virtually uninhabitable. There are more than 60,000 political prisoners. Mass trials and death sentences, including minors, are becoming more common. There is torture, enforced disappearances, extrajudicial killings. There is no free expression, no political space. Women are frequent targets. Should we accept this reality? After all this, to many, Mubarak’s Egypt now looks like heaven.
The country is united in the belief that if the international community was not responsible for the overthrow of President Morsi, it is now complicit in the assassination, torture and global abolition of the rights that characterize the Sisi regime. He has to accept the role he has played for this to happen. He must know that even if he chooses to look the other way, the Egyptian people will never forget what has been allowed to happen to them.
With the retrospective advantage, now everyone knows that supporting the 2013 military coup was a mistake. What we needed most then was to unite, as a nation, to restore democracy in Egypt, regardless of political difference. Before anything else, we had to take the democratic path together, arm in arm. And we didn’t.
But the hope we all had on the night of February 11, 2011, when Mubarak was forced to step down, still remains. It may seem small, but it is there, beneath the surface, in the heart of the Egyptian people. Having the opportunity, one day it will be announced and I think that day will come soon. The desire for freedom is strong. It can never be extinguished. This is what history has always told us.
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Dr. Amr Darrag is President of the Egyptian Institute of Studies (EIS) and former Minister of Planning and International Cooperation of Egypt