Is Egypt Next?
The Arab Spring swept through the Middle East like a powerful storm, toppling long-standing dictators one after another: Hosni Mubarak of Egypt, Ben Ali of Tunisia, Ali Abdullah Saleh of Yemen, Muammar Gaddafi of Libya, and now, most recently, the Assad regime in Syria. Charismatic rebel commander Abu Mohammed al-Golani and his forces advanced swiftly through Damascus, forcing Assad to flee to Moscow. Historians will undoubtedly analyze the unique factors behind each regime’s fall, but one common thread stands out: dictatorship and the denial of people’s dignity and freedom inevitably breed extremism.
This leads to the pressing question: who might be next? Many point to Egypt and President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, who has held power for over a decade. El-Sisi warns Egyptians not to follow Syria’s path, emphasizing the need for stability—but at what cost?
I recently returned to Egypt after a long absence, during which I missed the funerals of three of my brothers. This trip was prompted by my nephew Hussein’s wedding. Hussein’s twin brother, Hassan, has been imprisoned since the Rabaa dispersal crackdown in 2013, when he was just 17 years old. Their father, Abdraafea, who passed away last year, had longed to see Hassan freed and reunited with his family. In honor of his memory and Hassan’s unjust imprisonment, I’ve spent years campaigning for his release—starting petitions, contacting politicians, and reaching out to human rights organizations. Sadly, all efforts have been in vain.
For Hussein’s wedding, I sought a brief furlough for Hassan to attend, but everyone warned me against it. “You’ll open a can of worms, Ahmed,” they said. Egypt is no place for humanitarian gestures. My wife’s advice to “avoid any political trouble” weighed heavily on me. So, I kept a low profile, steering clear of politics, which has largely vanished from public discourse in Egypt anyway. Under el-Sisi’s rule, the country has entered a post-politics era, with political life and institutions effectively erased.
El-Sisi has fortified a police state where every branch of government—executive, legislative, judicial—along with the media, universities, and even wealthy elites, works to serve him rather than the people. He has abandoned the public, and in turn, the public has abandoned him. His priorities lie in building more prisons than schools, malls than markets, and bridges than streets. Meanwhile, a costly $60 billion “new capital” rises in the desert, further straining the nation’s fragile economy.
The divide between Egypt’s wealthy and its poor has never been starker. Gated communities for the elite stand in stark contrast to the slums where the majority struggle to survive. Police presence is overwhelming, with armored vehicles stationed on nearly every corner. Yet even the sight of these vehicles, emblazoned with “EGYPTIAN POLICE” in English, feels oddly disconnected.
Staying near Tahrir Square during my visit brought back bittersweet memories. Once the epicenter of the 2011 revolution, a place filled with energy, hope, and chants of “Bread, Freedom, and Social Justice,” the square now lies desolate. Trash fills the potholes, stray dogs roam in packs, and the iconic Mogamma building—once a bustling hub of bureaucracy—stands abandoned, its shattered windows a haunting reminder of better days. The only sound breaking the silence is the barking of dogs and the occasional hum of police cars.
During a walk through the square, I instinctively took out my phone to capture the scene. A voice startled me. “What are you doing?” I turned to see a young man with a gun tucked under his shirt—an undercover police officer.
– What are you filming…, he asked
– I’m taking a few pics, It’s a public place!
_ Who are you.. he shouted in a nervous voice
_ I live here, who are you!.. I fired back
_ Let me see your phone, as he tried to grab my hands.
_ Don’t touch me, as I pulled my phone away
_ I need to see your video
_ No you don’t …
Not taken by his bullying,
_ I’m not going to touch your phone, just show me what you filmed, he pleaded.
_ It seems that we both have a lot of time on our hands; I’ll tell you what, you show me your videos, and I’ll show you mine…I sarcastically said
The man smiled, relaxed a bit, and asked me where I was going,
I told him I had been away for years and was coming back for a short visit,
_what are you guys afraid of here… I asked the man in a conversational tone.
He didn’t answer, then asked me if he could be of any help., and walked away to a nearby police car parked on the corner..
My Tahrir Square visit was ruined by then, I spotted a “Hantoor,” a horse Buggy I jumped in it,
_where are you going? The coachman with a Tarboosh (Fez) asked!!
_ I have no idea, just take me out of here, please! I hailed a horse-drawn carriage and told the driver to take me out of here.
Egypt today feels like a nation in mourning. The promise of the Arab Spring has withered, replaced by despair and silence. The people have been stripped of their voice, their spirit, and their hope. But history shows that such repression cannot last forever. The question remains: is Egypt next?
