Egyptian troops keep watch at a checkpoint during the curfew hours in Cairo late on August 19, 2013. (Khaled Desouki/AFP/Getty Images)[/caption]
Egypt’s three-month state of emergency and the accompanying nighttime curfew are ending. It was eerily quiet when I visited Cairo, a city known for the incessant sound of car horns honking until well after midnight and a bustling night life that sustained an organized chaos, this summer. Unlike the curfew in place under the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces government in 2011, Cairo’s residents largely adhered to the curfew this time around. I remember my first Friday in Egypt during the curfew this summer. I joked with my cousin, asking what shisha cafe we would be going to that night. His reply? “It will have to be your living room.”
The curfew was respected for two primary reasons. First was the threat of terrorism, a not-so-subtle synonym for the Muslim Brotherhood, the fear of which was propagated through both state and private TV channels. The tumultuous events in the Sinai supported this narrative. The message from the armed forces chief, Gen. Abdel-Fattah El-Sisi, and his troops was clear: stay at home and we will protect you. The second reason was that the military themselves enforced the curfew much more stringently than in 2011. Two years ago, I routinely ignored the curfew without any major problems. This time, there was a very real possibility of being arrested and spending a sleepless night in a cell.
With the end of the state of emergency more than four months after the political overhaul of July 3, all eyes are now firmly fixed on the performance of the military-backed interim government. The threat of “terrorism” has subsided and protests by the Muslim Brotherhood have lessened in size and frequency.
Yet the early signs of what life will look like under the powers that be after the curfew are not promising. The third season of the popular weekly show Al-Barnameg (“The Program”) hosted by renowned comedian Bassem Youssef made its widely anticipated return on October 25. Youssef did not disappoint, parodying the romance between Egyptians and Sisi and making fun of interim president Adly Mansour, declaring that no one can remember his name because of his insignificance.
The following Friday—the only day of the week when curfew began at the excruciatingly early time of 7:00 pm instead of the usual 1:00 am—Egyptians huddled in front of their televisions for the second episode of the series. But host network CBC announced that the show had been suspended because Youssef had not adhered to an agreement on content. The show is still suspended, and there has been no update on when or if it will return.
Three days later, Mursi made his first public appearance since he was removed from power. As the former president was brought into the Cairo courtroom to stand trial, I could only wonder: what was the point? It has been more than four months since Mursi was ousted, and as the days passed he was increasingly forgotten. Outside Muslim Brotherhood circles, there was zero domestic pressure calling for his release, and international relations had moved on without him.
I believe the answer is a brazen over-confidence on the part of the ruling authorities, expressed in the desire of Sisi and the interim government to humiliate Mursi just that little bit more. Yet, in the process, they have miscalculated. Muslim Brotherhood cadres took new confidence from seeing Mursi being paraded around in court, still spirited and obstinate and speaking his mind. The trial also provided another opportunity for the international media to further document what it largely sees as a contemptuous coup. The words “military coup” were once again typed a thousand times, and Mursi was portrayed as the victim. Many of the headlines read "Democracy on trial."
The lifting of the curfew means the focus is now firmly on the future, not the past. The government can no longer hold onto the narrative of “fighting terrorism.” However, if its handling of Youssef and Mursi is anything to go by, they will make many more mistakes along the way. These are mistakes they cannot afford to make. As Egyptians have shown over the past three years, the time for forgiving their leaders is also over.
All views expressed in this blog post are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of, and should not be attributed to, The Majalla magazine.
