Regimented

The fury and violence of the Libyan uprising has been making me reflect on the Egyptian revolution, and the (still not ancien) regime’s modus operandi.

Extricating that mad bastard in the toctoc will inevitably be bloody. Reported deaths have already outstripped deaths during Egypt’s revolution, in less than a week. Gaddafi has bombed his people from the skies, used mercenaries, and subjected them to hallucinogenic broadcasts of defiance involving hunting caps and umbrellas. One of his sons, the insipid and stupid Seif, has also been enlisted to the media war effort.

I keep thinking back to Mubarak’s last speeches, imagining what the response would have been if, adorned in swathes of linen and a hunting cap, he’d stepped out of a toctoc and mumbled “I’m still in Cairo, you dogs!” But then our Hosny would never do that, obviously. He is a reasonable man who wears suits.

I often lament that if Egypt had to be burdened with a man with dictator tendencies he could have at least displayed a few colourful peccadilloes, like the rest of the world’s crackpots. A collection of high heel shoes, for example, or a penchant for making parliamentary speeches in spandex.

No such luck. Mubarak’s repression was low key in every way except for its cruelty. It was also insidious and self-maintaining, through an extensive network or nepotism, hand greasing and intimidation. For thirty years in Mubarak’s Egypt having the right connections and keeping to the approved script ensured better treatment from cradle to the grave. Read the rest of this entry »