The People and the Revolution
By Atef Said
Recently
prominent leftist journalist and writer Hani Shukrallah wrote a series of
articles under the title of “The
People’s History of the Egyptian Revolution.”
By Atef Said
Atef Said |
(I had the great pleasure of meeting, and sharing a panel with Egyptian activist and scholar Atef Said in June of this year at the Socialism 2013 conference in Chicago, USA. Below, Atef offers a brilliant, if overly kind discussion of my "People's History of the Egyptian Revolution", and does so more eloquently than I wrote the piece. I hope his call for "mobilizing ideas" on the subject matter helps motivate a wider debate. It is also a powerful incentive for me to actually finish the damn thing.)
“Revolutions are messy affairs. If you want
them sparkling clean, sanitary and sanitized, with a love interest and happy
ending under a fluttering revolutionary flag—well, go to Hollywood.”
“Where many
have seen the turbulence of the past 30 months of Egyptian political history in
terms of ‘elite’ conflicts (civil and military, civil forces and ‘deep state’, secularists and Islamists,
liberals, Muslim Brothers, leftists and feloul*), I see first and foremost the
hand print of the revolutionary upsurge of an Egyptian people unchained,
battling on for emancipation.”
Hani Shukrallah (Egyptian Writer)
Recently
prominent leftist journalist and writer Hani Shukrallah wrote a series of
articles under the title of “The
People’s History of the Egyptian Revolution.”
Shukrallah was
the former editor-in-chief of Al-Ahram Weekly, the best English-language
paper in Egypt, between 1991 and 2005. He is also the founder of Al-Ahram
Online, and was its editor-in-chief from 2011 until early 2013 when the Muslim
Brotherhood government forced him to resign. He is the author of Egypt,
the Arabs and the World: Reflections at the Turn of the Twenty-First Century,
published in 2011 by the American University in Cairo Press. He is perhaps one
of the most elegant political writers in the English language in Egypt.
Against the
numerous narrow accounts that have been offered of events in Egypt—particularly
those that leapt to huge conclusions after short-term successes—Shukrallah’s
series offers a careful, nuanced analysis. He discusses how messy the
trajectory of events was, and also how unprepared the revolutionaries were. He
also warns us against one-dimensional analyses. We cannot, for example, focus
only on the celebrated 18 days of revolution in 2011, without examining what led
to those protests and their aftermath. Similarly, it is of little use to
debate, often in dichotomous and reductionist terms, whether the ousting of
Morsi in July 2013 constituted another phase of the revolution or a military
coup—particularly when underlying assumptions such as whether or not Morsi was
democratically elected in the first place remain hotly contested. And like the
events in 2011, the ousting of Morsi in 2013 needs to be understood in its
proper historical context. People have been protesting since 2011 to voice
their disappointment with the continuation of human rights abuses, the ongoing
corruption of political elites, and the continuation of unilateral decision
made by the country’s consecutive rulers. In other words, what happened in July
2013 should be seen as part of the longer trajectory of the January 2011
revolution. Moreover, complex and varied processes are at work, combining mass
uprisings and military interventions.
Shukrallah starts
his first installment of the series with a quote from Howard Zinn, from whom
Shukrallah took inspiration. The quote goes: “The memory of the oppressed
people is one thing that cannot be taken away, and for such people, with such
memories, revolt is an inch below the surface.” Shukrallah then adds: “No
popular revolution is ever fully prepared for the tasks, vision and aspirations
that set it into motion.” He highlights the importance of looking at the
ups and downs what has been happening in Egypt since 2011. He seems to have
taken up the late Charles Tilly’s call to understand revolutions as
trajectories, not merely in terms of a superficial dichotomy of success
or failure. Shukrallah’s account explores the rollercoaster of
emotions experienced by people during the revolution; he writes in the seventh
installment:
There is a
Sisyphean aspect to the Egyptian revolution. Incessantly pushing the boulder of
radical democratic transformation up a steep, jagged hill composed of the
resistance of the old authoritarian society, the very moment it seems to have
reached the summit is also the moment it appears to find itself back at the
bottom of the hill – yet again and again.
If we focus only
on questions of whether or not revolutionaries seize power as the ultimate
criteria defining revolutions, we will fail to see that problems emerge and
re-emerge at various points in time. Far from a discrete moment in time,
Shukrallah highlights how we might, for example, think of the Egyptian
Revolution as having three waves: one against Mubarak, then another against the
Supreme Council of Armed Forces, and the third against Mohamed Morsi,. Part of
a single broad trajectory, each wave or phase, nonetheless, requires separate
investigation to understand their similarities and their differences.
Shukrallah writes:
Each of the three
waves of the Egyptian revolution would carry with it its own distinct baggage
of illusions, weaknesses, distortions and unique challenges, yet each would
find the revolution had inched closer to its objectives, more able to impose
its will, leaving its antagonists weaker, their ranks considerably more
fractured and disorganized. And, no less significantly, at each phase, the
revolution finds it has ‘re-educated’ sections of its traditional opponents,
rendered them more willing to concede at least some aspects of the people’s
revolutionary will, even as many among them act to undermine and hijack it.
Why is such
writing important for scholars of revolutions in sociology? Let us go back a bit. Sociology is a
pioneering discipline when it comes to studying revolutions. Some classical
sociological studies of revolutions are masterpieces that have been assigned in
reading lists across the social sciences and humanities. Many of these early
canonical works focused on comparative, macro-causal understandings of
revolutions. But few, if any works provided in-depth ethnographic accounts of
revolutions. As a result, the discipline lacks the richer understanding that
comes only from people’s stories and narratives.
The irony is that
there seem to be a lack on interest in one of the most central concepts in
revolutions: “the people.” As sociologists and social scientists in
general, we tend to think of the “people” as a general, overly amorphous term
that cannot be studied as such. Instead, we break it down to classes,
organizations, civil society, elite, union, and other “concrete” entities more
friendly to social scientific study. The outcome, however, is that we have
sacrificed understanding how ideas such as the “power of the people,” for
example, have a special meaning during times of organizing and at very
exceptional moments such as revolutions.
Some scholars
have suggested that the Arab Spring saw the emergence of new subjectivities,
especially in the age of new media. Was it a coincidence that one of the key
slogans at the center of mobilization in these events was “the people want the
removal of the regime”? The people may be an invented category, like many
categories in political theory. But we ought to remember that this category and
the very idea of “we the people,” were originated in revolutionary contexts.
The term is revolutionary par excellence. It is the social movements of
ordinary people that both scholars and activists care about the most.
Shukrallah’s series is a refreshing invitation to think through the relevance
of the category of people in the Egyptian revolution and the Arab Spring, and
perhaps to studies of revolutions at large.
* feloul is a
term many Egyptian scholars and activists use to refer to the people belong to
the Mubrak regime.
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