Does it belong to the urban fabric? Well, yes and no. Consecrated in 1899, Church of the Holy Trinity is Episcopalian. It is sunk back off of E.88th Street between First and Second Avenues in the Yorkville neighborhood of Manhattan. Occupying half a city block, it used to be a mission site in what was then a working class neighborhood. There is a little historical sketch and architectural information on the church website, which you can read here.
The policy makers of the Bush administration, secure in the wisdom lodged behind rimless glasses, argued that unless Saddam is brought to heel Al Qaeda will seek his protection. We now know the opposite to be true; the henchmen of Saddam have sought the protection of Al Qaeda and have become a significant part of the leadership of its bloody successor, The Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIS). While the US worked to endow Iraq with the laudable gifts of representative democracy and free markets, its opponents diligently pursued the task of starting a religious war. Al Qaeda, is at root wedded to a variant of Salafi Jihadi ideology, and therefore an implacable enemy of Shi’a Islam. In the empowerment of the Shi’a, it found a casus belli in Iraq. The US adventure there was meant to provide a shining example of how good governance can lift the fortunes of Arabs and Muslims and “drain the swamp of terrorism”. But Iraq was too far gone, a victim of its history of brutal coups and social fissures but mostly a casualty of the Iranian revolution. The revolutionary regime in Iran sought to export an eschatological revolution, thus firing the first shot in a broad religious war. Iraq was the first, and not the last, victim.
Even if one accepts the logic of creating an example of good governance in the region, one must question the choice of Iraq as the test bed. A far more hospitable place would have been Libya. Its dictator was as brutal as Saddam, but with less cunning and more insanity. It is further removed from Iran, and its religious makeup would have avoided the thorny issue of Shi’a empowerment, Sunni resentment, and the dodgy fact of having many of its potential leaders in bed with the likes of Hizboallah. If the spread of nuclear weapons was a factor, then certainly Libya was a more provable case. Instead, Saddam was attacked and Qaddafi offered a sweetheart deal.
But now, a dozen years after the invasion of Iraq, and with the Levant in a crucible of horrors, there is a chance for a makeover. Rarely does history offer great powers a chance not to make the same mistake twice. Libya is in chaos. Its chaos is empowering the worst elements to flood in. The number of its insurgents is small, and their nature is rag tag. This may seem to be a reason for inattention, but actually it is not. Actors such as ISIS are likely to see in Libya a low lying fruit. It has a long coastline close to Europe, it has oil, and it is close enough to Egypt, with many smuggling routes across a 1000 mile border, offering a tantalizing base of operation to destabilize the largest and most influential Arab country. The revolution against Qaddafi was likely supported from Qatar and Turkey, but NATO acted as tactical air power for actors it little understood. The resulting chaos offers a reprimand and a chance to redeem the original mistake.
If the original intervention was based on the legal theory of the “Right to Protect”, then that same theory demands further intervention. At risk then were the lives of rebels and the civilians under their control. At risk today are the lives of millions of Libyans, and potentially others in the surrounding countries. ISIS is a death cult, and it is hell-bent on extermination of Christians. The largest pool of native Christianity is next door in Egypt. The brutal execution, if proven, of 21 Copts in Libya and the accompanying document leaves no doubt as to the intentions of ISIS. Numbers make a chilling case. There are as many Copts in Egypt as there were Jews in Europe in 1933.
What is advocated here is an extension of the earlier intervention, via a small expeditionary force, mostly of European and other countries, to restore a functioning government to Libya, disarm all militias and eradicate any foreign fighters from the ISIS group. There are many reasons to think this will succeed. The ethnic and religious make up of Libya is such that a fair distribution of oil revenue (Libya has the same population and oil production as Norway) will keep them all happy and agreeable. A decent and mild man, King Idris, managed as much before. The proximity of Egypt and Algeria will mean that potential recruits to the insurgency will need to arrive by sea. Naval interdiction is something that the US excels at. Keeping the southern rim of the Mediterranean free of chaos used to be an American strategic objective. It ought to be again.
The benefits reach beyond what is purely good for Libya. Defeat of the Jihadis there will protect Egypt’s back ,allowing it to focus on defeating the Sinai branch of ISIS. Tunisia will no doubt rest better knowing that its Eastern neighbor is not in chaos, especially as it has become a major provider of fighters to Syria and potentially ISIS. A win in Libya might even encourage nations such as Mali and Nigeria to clamp down on their religious warriors.
But the major win in Libya is to hand ISIS a major defeat. The West has suffered its own brutal religious wars, and has come through them with an understanding that the only way out is to empower nation-states as agents of governance based on citizenship rights. The Christian West, which increasingly has a major Muslim minority, must reassert that principle in the Middle East. Syria may seem intractable, but Libya is not; and a solution there may radically alter the course of events elsewhere in the region.
— Maged Atiya
In the late 1930s and early 1940s Naguib Mahfouz penned a trilogy of novels set in ancient Egypt but with contemporary themes relating to political succession, legitimacy, social mores and struggle against foreign domination. “’Abath Al Aqdar”, “Radubis” and “KefahTeba” (Play of Fates, Radubis and Thebes’ Struggle) all sold well and were received with some acclaim, even if they lacked the mature Mahfouz style of psychological insight and realism. Mostly they were wooden set pieces designed to carry forward Mahfouz’s ideas. Two critics stood out in their fulsome praise of the novels. One was Salama Moussa, Mahfouz’s mentor and one-time employer. This is not surprising given Moussa’s lifetime espousal of Pharaonism. He was past his prime by then, and the remaining two decades of his life would be dedicated to retrospective reflections, score-setting, ideological agitation against the Muslim Brotherhood and occasional stints as a safe journalist for the 1952 coup makers. But Moussa’s praise was exceeded by that of Sayyd Qutb, who went further to suggest that the books be made mandatory readings for Egyptian schools, insisting that ancient Egypt should be a guide post for future development in the country. Within two decades Qutb would walk to the gallows for peripheral participation in farcical seditions, but his influence would continue to grow within Egypt and eventually outside it. His final works found new guide posts in a romanticized version of early Islam, and saw in ancient Egypt a warning tale about ignorance, cruelty, and dictatorship. Moussa’s descent to obscurity and Qutb’s rise to fame both reflect the fate of Pharaonism in Egypt, and outside it as well. The Western obsession with ancient Egypt has never truly faded, but it has been superseded in many quarters with fascination with Islamism, driven largely by its threats to the West, as well as how it neatly fits with “post-colonial” discourse currently in vogue among academics. Moussa, who respected the West and favored a constructive engagement with its heritage, is rarely studied, considered “safe” and therefore safely ignored. Qutb’s flammable narrative of grievance towards the West, the loss of imagined greatness and the promise of eventual triumph is deemed more worthy of study. When Sadat’s assassin screamed “I killed the Pharaoh”, 15 years after Qutb’s death, he was a witness to the damage Qutb’s ideas inflicted on the nation that damaged him. Pharaonism, one of the main engines of Egyptian nationalism, has been largely ignored and discounted, and when its effects come to the forefront on occasions, they evoke a puzzled response.
Pharaonism has assumed a variety of forms and as a result escapes easy definitions. At the core of it is a view that Egypt has a unique and integral history, from its earliest moments to its present day. The variety of historical forces, cultural transformations and religious shifts in Egypt are seen as mere surface ripples, a superficial reorganization of unique native features. There is more than a passing resemblance to various European forms of nationalism, especially those inclined to romanticism, such as German nationalism. It is a unifying force with a dark underside. Mahfouz’s third novel, “KefahTeba”, is laced with no small amount of xenophobia. The Asiatic invaders, the Hyksos, are sometimes described as “pale”, “flabby” and “treacherous”, in contrast to the dark, lean and honest Egyptians. Surf through Egyptian cable channels today and you will find echoes of that among the low grade peddlers of incitement, who frequently call Hamas, or even the very Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood, “Hyksos”.
What are we to make of Qutb’s about-face regarding ancient Egypt? It would not be wholly correct to see it as part-and-parcel of his transformation from a liberal esthete to an Islamic “Fundamentalist”. Qutb’s rabid hostility to ancient Egypt seems more modern than atavistic. Early Arab invaders and subsequent Muslim historians generally lacked this level of hostility. Many (Al Mutannabi, Al Baghdadi) saw in the puzzling and silent massive monuments a witness to God’s wrath against pagans; that such a mighty empire can disappear without a trace. Others, such as Ibn Wahshyia or Abu ‘Ubayd Al Bakri, , were closer to later Western observers, marveling at these wonders and insisting they were built by a superior race of men (“they begat children who spoke at birth”). Islamic iconoclasm was never deployed towards the systemic destruction of the ancient Egyptian Atlals. They were certainly plundered, neglected and occasionally used as a quarry, but in only very few isolated instances did the rulers direct actual destruction. Qutb’s anger is closer to the attempt by various totalitarian systems to erase the past and create a “new man”. It was also motivated by his alienation from the ruling elites, which often employed ancient Egyptian history as a legitimizing tool (Nasser’s partisans claimed he was the first true Egyptian to rule the country since ancient times).
Pharaonism had its heyday from the late 1800s to the 1940s. It became closely associated with the Egyptian national struggle for modernization and independence, as can be seen from works such as Sa’ad Zaghloul’s tomb (attacked as un-Islamic) and Mahmoud Mokhtar famous statue outside Cairo University. Starting in the 1940s the struggle against the British took on less national and more religious tones, as the Brotherhood formed armed groups and agitated less for Egyptian independence than for a broad rejection of the West, including the newly formed state of Israel. From that point on, Pharaonism fought what seemed to be a losing rear guard action against Islamism. Mahfouz, for example, never renounced it, but never completed his project of additional novels set in ancient Egypt. Political repression post-1952 further weakened Pharaonism, draining vitality out of nationalist parties and channeling much of the political discourse toward Arabism, and since the 1970s, Islamism. The revolution of 2011 was notable for its lack of Pharaonic symbolism, aside from the odd demonstration by Copts, who clung ever closer to the Pharaonic past as the public sphere became more Islamicized ( we should note here with some amusement what the 12th century Al Baghdadi wrote “Copts continue to preserve a great preference for the worship of the nation of their origin and suffer themselves readily to the customs of their ancestors“) . In fact, many of the young revolutionaries, purposely or otherwise, adopted the Islamist narrative of oppressive rulers as “Pharaohs”. This narrative, which seems natural to our ears today, would have been off-key in the 1930s when Mahfouz began his novels. In his trilogy the Pharaoh is a symbol of the nation, a manifestation of its hopes and an expression of its health. Oppression is associated with foreign influences; the Asiatic invaders and the marauding Bedouins. It would have been easy to think that Pharaonism is a quaint but irrelevant relic.
There is little question that the Muslim Brotherhood has been instrumental in shaping Egyptian social attitudes since the 1940s, even under repression. It is telling that Nasser, as Prime Minister prior to becoming President, took the reins of education from one Hussein (Taha) and handed it to another (Kamal El Din), almost certainly a Brotherhood sympathizer or perhaps a secret member. The Arabization program of the 1950s and 1960s was at its root Islamism-lite. Historians have yet to write a full account of the spectacular fall of the Brotherhood. But the warning signs were present at their moment of triumph. The organization wrapped itself tightly in the 2011 revolution that it would never have started. As the balance sheet of the revolution began to dip into negative territory, the public soured on those associated with it. The parliamentary elections of 2011 seemed a triumph for the tactics of the group. But there were troubling signs as well. Their slogan “Bringing prosperity to Egypt” displayed a tin ear; opening them to a backlash once the promise faded, and to the accusation by their opponents of behaving as if they were an external group to the country. They seemed to conclude that they have more to fear from their religious right than anywhere else in the political spectrum, thus fostering many more political miscalculations, such as putting up two candidates for President. Epistemological closure, a euphemism for stubbornness, served the Brotherhood well in opposition, and brought them down when in power. We do not know what finally tipped the balance against Morsi. As late as April 2013, Sisi warned that Army intervention in politics would set the country back decades and might be bloody. One suspects that Morsi’s support for sending fighters to Syria panicked the military, which saw dangers on three sides; terrorism in the Sinai, chaos in Libya and a collapsed state in the Sudan. The Brotherhood could not imagine that the country that gave it its votes would stand by and witness a brutal suppression. Ironically the events have a faint echo in 1952. The Wafd party, which dominated Egyptian politics on the premise that independence would bring dignity and prosperity, saw its stalwart voters flee in the early 1950s and watch as the Army and the Brotherhood disassembled its apparatus from 1952 to 1954.
The many, perhaps the majority, of Egyptians who supported the removal of Morsi face the paradox of removing an elected President to safeguard democracy. We can ignore the most unhinged voices in Egypt, usually the loudest and most entertaining. But we should heed saner voices that see the events of July 3 as necessary, not as a road to progress but as a last ditch rescue mission. These voices need a framework to manage the obvious contradiction. The new regime also recognizes that a return to the Mubarak formula will not work, and seeks an ideology to counter Islamism. It seems that Pharaonism 2.0 is being dusted up and offered as a possible solution to such issues. It has potential advantages. Its less attractive features of extreme nationalism and reverence for titular authority offer a good tool kit, especially in a region with collapsing states. Its association with the brief liberal era offers hope for many Egyptians that democracy might not be so far off. Also, as Egypt seeks approval from a global audience that views July 3 with some disdain, the “old Egypt” might be an attractive product for a world grown skeptical about “moderate political Islam” and fearful of the darker manifestations of Islamism. It is no accident that Sisi’s visit to the UN featured a flurry of kitsch Pharaonic ads (the Nile flowing by the Pyramids, etc.). The only gambit left off the menu was a parade of Tutankhamen’s mask down Broadway.
To be among the few who predicted the fall of the Brotherhood as it achieved the pinnacle of power is of little satisfaction. Their fall is not a rejection of their narrow ideology for an alternative liberal attitude. And it came at a heavy price. There is the faint hope that form might create function; that the superficial trappings of a more inclusive nationalism might create such reality. It would require everyone to accept less than full vindication. This dangerous moment can cause Egyptians to pull back from the brink and accept a diverse public sphere. It can also cause them to double down and insist on a narrower definition of what constitutes acceptable national dialog, condemning the nation to decades of strife. There is little in the current environment to inspire optimism, yet Egypt has a capacity to surprise.
— Maged Atiya
Egypt has become the land of zero learning curve. Events seem to harden rather than alter the positions of all sides. The standoff between the two great illiberal forces in the country, the Army and the Muslim Brotherhood, is not heading to an obvious resolution. A year ago the Army adopted the statesman’s position of “warning” the Brotherhood and its civilian opponents to compromise for the sake of the country. The Brotherhood responded by further digging in. In time the Army called their bluff and removed President Morsi. The shock of this event was insufficient to penetrate the epistemological shell of a cult-like organization endowed with legendary Egyptian stubbornness. They refused to recognize the popular sentiment against their dominance and saw minor events as portents for the return of President Morsi. Outside powers encouraged their delusions and cynically left their people in harm’s way. Even the terrible slaughter at Rab’a was simply evidence that things cannot continue that way. They did not, they got worse. In the meantime, those who supported the removal of Morsi refuse to recognize that injustice is rife and that it feeds its twin, chaos. They are also unwilling to face the reality that the Gulf financial aid will end sooner or later and that a systematic focus on economic recovery requires more than “ending terrorism”.
This is a classic stalemate. One side cannot lose but unable to pacify; the other cannot win but able to disrupt. Stalemates in politics are often convenient and constructive, but in violent struggles debilitating and disastrous. The situation is in many ways similar to the aftermath of the 1967 war. Israel could not lose a war against the Arabs but could not forge peace with them. The stalemate was ended when a faction on one side found the psychological strength to make a sullen peace, and those who refused to go along left to their fate. It was not just; but it was not war. It also helped that a major power, the United States, made its goals clearly and unequivocally and then invested sufficient efforts to achieve them. The goals were the survival of Israel and the removal of Egypt from the battle. The methods varied, ranging from Kissinger’s “shuttle diplomacy” to Carter’s “Camp David” strong-arming, but the goal remained the same.
Is a similar outcome possible today in Egypt? The best answer is that “we do not know”. It is disheartening to see otherwise sober statesman such as Senator Patrick Leahy burst out in red-faced frustration about Egypt and its relations with the US. It is also ineffectual. To clean up after the current wreckage requires a clarification of the goals, rather than a focus on methods. The task of US policy makers is unenviable. They need to preserve US interests, which requires making clear choices. Refusal to make choices led to the current situation where all sides seem hostile to the US. But can a country such as the US make a choice between two sides, one offering injustice and the other chaos? This requires subtle understanding and imagination to see the contours of what is possible and what might emerge in time. It is a long term, occasionally frustrating task; probably more so than the decade spent diffusing the Israel-Egypt standoff.
Absolute policy goals are best when they are few and easily articulated. At the moment the only logical goals for the US should be a clear support for the preservation of the integrity of the Egyptian state and the continuation of its support for furthering the development of an open globalized and prosperous world. It will mean that the official policy and the public pressure might need to go in different directions. This is a tough act for a noisy democracy, and requires leaders able to buck the public pressure on occasions. Let us hope they exist in Washington.
— Maged Atiya
February 24 2014 is the day Egypt found a cure for AIDS, and its cabinet resigned en-masse, most likely as a procedural step so that Egyptians can go to the polls again and democratically elect as President the leader of the Army that tossed out the last democratically elected President, who in turn got to his office by the good will of the very same Army that also tossed out a previous President. On this day of cumin-infused Kabuki theater let us recall an Egyptian intellectual unlike any of his generation, Salama Moussa (1887?-1958).
Moussa was a maddening man. His intellectual output was prodigious, took many twists and turns, and was often in-artful and even wrong. But like Isaiah Berlin’s hedgehog he got one thing right. He cared not a whit for the national struggle against the British; not that he had much sympathy or liking for the British Empire. During the first half of the twentieth century most Egyptian intellectuals were keen on liberating Egypt from the domination of the British. Moussa, on the other hand, was keen on liberating Egyptians from the domination of their native culture. Although proud of his Egyptian heritage, he saw the native religiosity and social and sexual oppression as the root of the country’s ills and their removal as the road to its resurgence and prosperity. His passions were stirred less by “Egypt for the Egyptians” than “Civilization for the Egyptians”.
Time would prove him sadly right, even if the last decade of his life left him demoralized and unsure of his legacy. The man advocating universal values has been largely ignored by his countrymen, who preferred authentic decline to foreign improvement.
Experts are fond of pointing out that the Arab cultural output is far below that of comparable populations elsewhere. Egypt, nominally Arab, leads in that decline. Not only is Egypt today behind many similar countries in cultural output, Egypt today is behind yesterday’s Egypt as well. Those who place the blame on a “deficit of freedom” are only partly right. Three years of revolutionary freedom have not markedly improved the output. The cause of this calamity is deeper than the lack of freedom. It is a cultural decline that coincided with the rise of belief in the superiority of native culture and withdrawal from the universal and global cultural influences. Egyptians today rightly complain about how outsiders mock them. At the same time an Army doctor claims to have cured AIDS with a cartoonish gadget.
It is unlikely that Salama Moussa is glowering in anger from the heavens. He didn’t believe in the afterlife. Had he been alive, however, he would have pointed out that the holy men, the men in uniform, the modestly attired women and the poorly-read youth are the links of a chain binding Egypt to a cycle of decline and anger. It is a measure of that decline that if the social critic of the 1920s and 1930s were to repeat his warnings today he would be met not with social disapproval, but most likely with a term in jail or worse.
There was a time when Egyptian intellectuals debated the merits of a modernizing strongman vs. the retrograde populists. Egypt’s nightmare is that this choice may no longer exist.
— Maged Atiya
An excellent summary of the incoherence of MB thinking about Israel
This piece was originally published in The Telegraph
I hope you find it interesting and I look forward to read your comments and feedback
With Hosni Mubarak no longer in power, it seems inevitable that Egypt’s peace treaty with Israel will be scrutinised in the public domain. Mohammed Morsi’s victory in the presidential election has triggered both fear and speculation regarding the future of the Camp David peace treaty. Before making predictions, however, it is essential first to establish the facts.
First, there is an air of hostility in Egypt toward Israel; the public is in no mood to establish warm relationships with what many still describe as the “Zionist entity.” This description is widespread across society, from the leftists to the Muslim Brotherhood and the ultraconservative Salafists. Recent polls from the Pew Research Center have shown that most Egyptians favour overturning the 1979 peace treaty.
Second, the realities…
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