A general strike in Egypt on 6th April brought much of the country to a standstill. Two days of rioting left three people dead and hundreds injured in the worst social unrest since 1977, and brought to a head the biggest wave of industrial action since the 1952 coup d'état that brought Gamal Abdel Nasser to power. What was especially surprising to many observers was that the strike succeeded without the help of the Muslim Brotherhood—although, after its inaction was criticised in the opposition press, the group did belatedly endorse a second general strike call for 4th May.
The Muslim Brotherhood has a long and tumultuous history in Egypt. It was founded in 1928 with the dual aims of ridding the country of its British colonial masters and returning the Egyptian masses to what it saw as the fundamentals of Islam. The group was banned in 1954, then almost annihilated, by Nasser, who claimed they had tried to assassinate him. Accommodated once again by Anwar Sadat in the 1970s—who courted them to help marginalise leftists—the Brothers were once again sidelined after Sadat was assassinated in 1981 by a more radical Islamist splinter group. The Brothers have long since renounced violence. Members of the banned group now stand in elections as nominal independents, although because they campaign under their famous slogan "Islam is the solution," everybody knows who they are.
The Brotherhood's 4th May call for industrial action was significant because it marked the first time they had openly taken on President Mubarak. Yet it fell on deaf ears. On the day of the supposed general strike, traffic in Cairo was as gridlocked as ever, and shops opened as usual. The proposed strike was a flop.
At first glance, this seems as baffling as the success of the first strike without the Brotherhood's endorsement. Western observers routinely claim that the Brotherhood is a formidable opposition force in Egypt—one that must either be kept in check while Washington continues to support Mubarak, or cultivated as the only viable alternative to his autocratic rule. The group's sympathisers inside Egypt, who tout its superficial embrace of western-style democracy, have estimated its membership to be as high as 2.5m, with millions more privately supporting its goal of creating an Islamist state. If that is the case, however, it is difficult to understand how the Brotherhood's call for industrial action had no impact—and, if anything, seemed to kill off the strike's mass appeal.
In Egypt's 2005 elections, the strong showing by the Brotherhood—they won 88 of the 454 seats—triggered a flood of papers by middle east analysts calling for more western engagement with the group. But this apparent triumph was a mirage. The Brotherhood won 20 per cent of the seats, but at most 25 per cent of Egyptians voted. Even accepting the official turnout figures, the Brotherhood could only muster the support of a small minority of the voting-age population, despite polls indicating that the overwhelming majority was deeply dissatisfied with the regime's performance.
In addition, there is plenty of anecdotal evidence suggesting that many—perhaps most—of those who vote for the Islamists do so not out of any great love for them, but in protest at a corrupt and brutal military regime that has crushed all secular alternatives. The story of the Brotherhood, this alternative narrative suggests, is not so much one of triumph in the face of adversity as a failure to achieve mass popular support despite a social, political, and economic malaise that has in other parts of the middle east proved a hugely fertile environment for the spread of Islamism.
There are obvious reasons why the fundamentalist interpretation of Islam offered by the Brotherhood does not resonate among ordinary Egyptians. One is that the kind of Islam practiced by the country's Muslims is an intriguing mishmash of Sunni, Shia and Sufi traditions. For instance, at least 6m men in Egypt—about a third of the adult male Muslim population—are members of a Sufi order, and at least twice that number of men—and countless millions of women and children—participate in the festivals the Sufi orders organise called moulids. The Brotherhood condemns moulids as un-Islamic. Praying to holy men and women, even celebrating Muhammad's birthday, is akin to idolatry for these Sunni fundamentalists. The fatwa-issuing, hardline Sunni sheikhs of Al-Azhar University agree with them.
Add to this the roughly 10 per cent of the population that is Christian, and other large groups like Bedouins and Nubians for whom Islamism is anathema, along with secular Egyptians, moderate Sunnis and fiercely independent tribal upper Egyptians, and it is not difficult to understand why the Brotherhood has failed to achieve mass support. Most Egyptians live in horror at being ruled by hardline Sunnis.
In the pre-Nasser era, Egyptians were less overtly religious than they are today, but more ethical and respectful of the true, underlying message of Islam that finds its expression in good deeds rather than in the mere observance of strict religious rituals. A wave of nostalgia has emerged for the liberal interlude in Egyptian politics from the 1920s through to the revolution of 1952, when Egypt was ruled by a parliamentary democracy and constitutional monarchy. This is further evidence of a thirst at the popular level for plurality and diversity. Even King Farouk has been rehabilitated.
Of course, this diversity is not represented in the political mainstream, as the regime has succeeded in crushing all secular rivals. And that is one reason most Egyptians do not bother to vote: in local elections earlier this year, less than 2 per cent cast their ballot. But real political reform would give voice to the pluralistic mix that is Egyptian society. Washington has a crucial role to play in helping to bring this about, not least because it sends around $2bn Cairo's way in military aid annually. First, however, it is only by shaking off the misconception (cultivated by Mubarak) that serious pressure for an opening up of the country's political system will result in an instant takeover by the Muslim Brotherhood, that such leverage may ever be brought to bear.
