The mob cannot dispense justice

Just a year ago, crowds demanding their rights in Cairo’s Tahrir Square were a source of inspiration to repressed people everywhere. The martyrs killed during the January 25th revolution didn’t die in vain. After more than 30 years of virtual dictatorship when Egyptians were fearful of speaking out, their sacrifice contributed to the new Egypt, ostensibly a free and democratic country. But with democracy comes individual responsibility. Democracy doesn’t equate to the absence of any rule of law. Democracy doesn’t permit citizens to bludgeon one another because they hold different opinions or, as was the case on Saturday evening, to violently protest the sentencing of their former president, once again bringing the capital to a standstill.

Unfortunately, one presidential candidate still in the running and two that have now been excluded stood shoulder to shoulder with demonstrators. The Muslim Brotherhood’s candidate Mohammad Mursi encouraged Egyptians to reignite the revolution, vowing that if he were elected he would ensure Hosni Mubarak, who earlier in the day had received a life sentence, and his sons Gamal and Ala’a who were both acquitted on charges of corruption, would be re-tried.

In other words, Mursi would institute a crowd-pleasing kangaroo court guaranteed to deliver the harshest judgments possible. Founder of the Nasserist Dignity Party Hamdeen Sabahi also made political capital out of the mob’s fury, as did the moderate Islamist Abdul Moneim Abu Al Fotouh. Their presence in the square only served to further incite passions and legitimise mass anger against the state as well as the judiciary, hardly the kind of role models Egypt requires at this sensitive juncture when the nation is desperate to attract investment, rebuild its dwindling foreign currency reserves and beef up security to bring back tourists.

Ahmad Shafiq, a former prime minister appointed by Mubarak who on June 16 and 17 will be facing-off against Mursi at the ballot box, was the only candidate to announce that he accepts the verdicts. In my opinion, Shafiq responded appropriately. But he hasn’t done himself any favours by going against the popular tide and siding with the establishment. Large numbers of Egyptian voters are still undecided. Many resent that one of the two candidates left standing is a conservative Islamist while the other is tainted as faloul (remnants of the old regime) due to his membership in Mubarak’s regime. In light of Shafiq’s—some might say, brave—stance, a percentage of those still mulling who to choose may reluctantly opt for Mursi as the best of a bad duo.

Revenge

The trial’s presiding judge Ahmad Rifaat is highly respected within his profession but he is being condemned for stating that there is no hard evidence against Mubarak and his long-serving interior minister, Habib Al Adly, to prove that they actually ordered security forces to turn their guns on protesters; they were given life sentences because they failed to stop the killing. Various senior Egyptian lawyers contend that the judge’s summing-up, in particular his admission that there is a lack of proof, opens the door to successful appeals. The suspicion is that Judge Rifaat took his marching orders from the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces which may still view Mubarak, a former air force hero, as one of their own. But the likelihood is that there is no way to verify with certainty that Mubarak gave the command to shoot to kill. Even if he did give those orders, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to put them on paper and if no credible witnesses were willing to come forward, the judge’s hands were tied.

However, not all Egyptians are baying for Mubarak’s blood. I’ve spoken to at least three who have displayed varying degrees of sympathy for the ailing, broken man who has now been flown to Cairo’s Tora Prison, where he may spend his last days in its medical facility’s intensive care unit. A security official was quoted by AFP as saying Mubarak “was crying and wouldn’t get out of the helicopter.” A policeman I know went on the offensive when I asked him what he thought of the verdict. “I don’t care what others think,” he said. “I feel sorry for Mubarak. That my opinion and I’m entitled to it.”

Personally, I’m relieved that Mubarak won’t be sent to the gallows like Saddam Hussain, which would not befit a fledgling democracy, although a life behind bars may be an even worse punishment for the man dubbed Egypt’s last Pharaoh. In many respects, he brought this terrible end upon himself. He should have gathered his family and left the country once he was forced to step down like Tunisia’s President Zine Al Abidine Bin Ali did. He wasn’t short of friends among heads of state.

Was it arrogance that propelled him to stay, an inherent belief that someone so mighty was in no danger of falling? Or perhaps he fell for his regime’s own propaganda, dismissing the Tahrir Square crowd as troublemakers while trusting that he still retained his people’s love and respect.

In the end, Mubarak was his own worst enemy—and I fear that the Egyptian people are following suit. They should put the past behind them and work together to build a consensus as to the kind of Egypt all can comfortably live with. The future beckons. But as long as Egyptians focus on getting revenge they will be locked in their unhappy past.

Linda S. Heard is a British specialist writer on Middle East affairs. She welcomes feedback and can be contacted by email at heardonthegrapevines@yahoo.co.uk.

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