Three Angry Men (Salama Ahmed Salama, Magdi Mehanna)

3 Angry Men
Three of the nation’s top columnists on how their pens and 400 words help them keep everyone from the government to the opposition accountable to the man on the street.

By Manal el-Jesri
Egypt Today Magazine
May 2007

NOTHING BEATS THE rustle of a newspaper in the morning. Whether you like yours with coffee or with OJ, reading the papers remains a preferred way to begin the day for most upper- and middle-class Egyptians. And it’s certainly not for the news — the headlines we read every day are sadly predictable, and Al Jazeera, Al-Arabiyya and other news channels do it better. Within seconds, a breaking story is carried around the globe many times over.




Yet people still buy newspapers, a great many of them in Egypt for what their favorite columnist has to say today.

Being an Egyptian columnist in a major newspaper has long been the pinnacle of a rich career in journalism. For a young journalist, it was something to look forward to —to follow in the footsteps of giants such as Mostafa Amin, who founded Akhbar El-Youm in 1944, Ahmed Bahaa Eddin (Al-Ahram) and Mohamed El-Tabei, some of the greatest names to have studded the Egyptian press in its days of glory, and columnists one and all. These men were stars: Society sought them out, people wanted to be seen with them.

Today, very few columnists retain that prestige, and writing a column is no longer such a great deal. Independent and opposition newspapers have seen to that, scraping the glamour off this once-coveted position by granting weekly and sometimes daily columns without a second thought. The only criterion often seems to be the applicant’s willingness to run a journalistic marathon, meeting deadlines day after day.

But just as a true gourmet can tell the difference between a fast food dish and a cordon bleu meal, a discerning reader recognizes the columnists who must be followed faithfully. Salama Ahmed Salama’s column Min Qarib (Close Up) in Al-Ahram is probably the most widely read column written by an Arab writer. Another Al-Ahram favorite is Makram Mohamed Ahmed’s Noqtet Nour (Bright Spot). Although it is only slightly over two years old, his column has quickly gained a faithful following. Then there is Magdy Mehanna’s Fil Mamnou’ (In the Forbidden Zone) published in the independent daily Al-Masry Al-Youm, which engenders fresh debate almost every day.

Despite the age gap between Salama and Ahmed on the one hand and Mehanna on the other, the three share important characteristics. They all like to write using pen and paper. To them the pen is a weapon, a tool they use to serve justice.





One would be hard-pressed to compartmentalize these three writers at a time when almost everyone in the media belongs to either the opposition or the government. They belong to neither. Their only loyalty is to their readers. One day they attack the government, the next they attack the opposition. Truth and justice is what they seek, and they are not afraid to speak out against anything they do not like.

In that, any one of them could be Mr. Davis —Juror Number 8, the man who changes fate with his demand for debate in the classic 1957 film Twelve Angry Men.

Salama Ahmed Salama Up Close

Salama Ahmed Salama’s bright and inviting smile is at odds with the columns he writes. It is his job to criticize, and he does it so bitingly, yet ever so politely. Expecting to meet a jaded and cynical veteran, the openness and the friendliness pervading the interview come as a pleasant surprise.

Writing a column? Well, it is a very limited space. I write around 350 or 360 words. You want to say everything, and still have an introduction, body and a conclusion, all the characteristics of a story. You want the idea to get through to the reader. It must be clear, not abrupt or distorted. The language must be concentrated and concise. An idea must be stated clearly — in one or two sentences — so you can move on to the next idea. You do not have the luxury of redundancy. You have to be concise, yet not ambiguous. To do this, you must have control over the language, and the idea must be clear in your head.



I must be the conscience of the people and not of power, the government or the state. I must be the conscience of society in all its groups, classes and leanings.­

A columnist must have an opinion, his independent opinion. It must be important enough for readers to want to follow it. With time, a columnist builds up a reputation,and credibility. A reader can tell if this is a hypocrite who plays to those in power. Well, not necessarily those in power. But to an interest group. Or to a club, if he is a sports writer.

Readers are faithful; they search for their favorite writer. Many people tell me that they look for my column online when they are abroad. When I met [Nobel Prize Laureate] Dr. Ahmed Zuweil, he told me he feels upset when he cannot find my column.

I no longer write every day. I used to write six days a week, but when I went through a health crisis, I started working only three days per week.

Before I began writing my column in the 1980s, I used to write a weekly editorial. It was called Behind the Events, and was a political analysis of either local or international politics. A daily column is consuming. It drains the energy. You must come up with a new idea every day. A columnist can write about politics, art, society, which makes it imperative for him to see everything taking place on the arena.

When he writes, a columnist has to say something new. He must add something, not just parrot previous opinions. If he must mention other people’s opinions, then he should do it so he can state his own. A columnist must have his own position and vision.



I must be the conscience of the people and not of power, the government or the state. I must be the conscience of society in all its groups, classes and leanings.­

It does take a lot of work. I have to read a great number of Egyptian, Arab and international newspapers. With time, one is able to focus on certain areas in the papers. The time you set aside for the newspapers and the media must be limited. It can rob you of your whole day.

Everything one reads goes into the inner consciousness and takes on a different form according to a person’s own vision. How to project all of this is one challenge; to be able to express oneself in accordance with the platform from which one writes is another issue. I write for Al-Ahram, which is the power’s — or the state’s — main newspaper. Or rather, let’s say it is very close to the state or the government. It is an old newspaper which has been around for 130 years; it has its own traditions. To write at Al-Ahram, you have to be conscious of this context.

With experience, one is able to make or forge a style that allows one to say everything without colliding with anyone. People sometimes wonder how I write what I write in Al-Ahram, yet nobody tells me maa’ al-salama the next day.

[With the pun on his own name, Salama bursts into a roaring laugh.]

Some writers’ editorials are banned entirely. It’s a difficult balance to keep. I don’t know whether an exception is made for me. I do not think so. I do not feel special, and they can tell me to leave anytime they want. I do not want to exercise self-censorship, but at the same time I do not want to be arrogant. I do not want to abuse anybody. When I write or criticize, I make sure there is no abuse, slander or personal attacks.



Writing in a quiet tone, you can question the government, hold it accountable. You can be angry, but all of this must be written in an acceptable context. The reader does not like it when the writer starts to throw around insults.

That is not to say the columnist has to be objective. A columnist can have his own will. He is not a judge, but he is responsible. It is this responsibility that makes it imperative for him to base even his most out-of-the-ordinary ideas on solid ground. A columnist cannot just write anything that comes to mind, he must have his argument ready. This way, even the reader who disagrees with him will be able to appreciate the opposite point of view.

He may not agree with you, but you must make certain he respects you.

I constantly feel someone is keeping account of what I write. I get emails, letters or calls from readers both inside and outside Egypt. I greatly appreciate the feedback of Egyptians and Arabs abroad. They have more time and are more able to react and form an opinion. I benefit from them greatly, because I like to find out how they see matters. I feel responsible toward these people, because they expect to find out the right opinion from me. A writer must be sincere with himself and his readers.

I must be the conscience of the people and not of power, the government or the state. I must be the conscience of society in all its groups, classes and leanings. I often write against the [governing National Democratic Party], or I criticize it, and then I meet some of its members. They still continue to respect me. They do not view me as an opponent or an enemy. They realize, or at least the wise ones realize, that I write seeking the greater good, which transcends any particular group, party or current.

It is exactly this objectivity in perception that keeps Salama close to the people. He knows what they think because they choose to tell him, and he chooses to listen.



Writing in a quiet tone, you can question the government, hold it accountable. You can be angry, but all of this must be written in an acceptable context. The reader does not like it when the writer starts to throw around insults.

I believe that in the past 10 or 20 years, we have been proceeding in a sort of zigzag, going one step forward and two backward. There is no system to anything, and no promising or pleasing outcome is to be expected. There is a problem with education, with health, with securing our daily bread. Traffic is a matter of daily battle. This means any member of the middle class faces so many problems that make his life miserable. A person is on a constant quest for solutions, which do not happen easily. To solve each one of these problems, you either need to know someone or you need lots of money. Nothing happens smoothly or systematically.

On the political level, forming parties is prohibited. You cannot talk about this or that. In schools, in universities, there are prohibitions. The elite, the thinkers or journalists, who are supposed to lead people and public opinion, are retreating instead of going forward. Everything they do, they want to take the Mufti’s opinion on. I was surprised to read the other day that the faculty of Al-Azhar University, 1,300 professors, wanted the Mufti to issue a fatwa against the formation of student unions after the events that happened. University professors, who are supposed to be the role model, want a fatwa so they can put their minds at ease. They do not even want the burden of directing their students or allowing them to be responsible. Everyone wants a higher authority to tell them what to do. Where will this lead? It will lead to a flawed society incapable of production or accomplishment, a society lacking imagination or thought. And you ask why people are miserable? Of course they must feel depressed.

This problem is becoming more complicated. In the long run we want a society rich with varying currents and leanings but who can still co-exist and interact. This is the case all over the world. But presently, the state is intolerant of debate. Prisons come in many different shapes and kinds. There are the normal prisons and detention facilities, and then there are the prisons we live in. Prisons of the minds and of the chains and boundaries placed on young and old, especially the youths. As a young man in college, I saw different political groups and parties. We participated in political work, we went out in demonstrations. There were Muslim Brothers, communists, Wafdists and many others. None of the restrictions existed. Today, a student is unable to think for himself, he does not know how to think. Then they ask them to vote. Vote for whom? They have no idea about anything. This makes political life a sterile and unproductive one.

True, there was pressure toward reform. America tried to spread democracy in the world, and every now and then there was talk about the importance of freedoms, free elections and so on. But when the US became busy with the problem in Iraq, it stopped. Now, they do not want to get into trouble with any of the Middle Eastern countries because they are drowning in Iraq. They have dropped the issues of democracy and political reform completely. Both the US and Europe have lifted the pressure off the government. Everyone has forgotten that agenda, so it was simply closed. Today, all the attempts at reform are merely cosmetic. They talk about constitutional changes, but admit that these changes are made to suit the current realities. They are not changes for the future.

With the constitutional amendments, we are left with a Constitution that is full of little patches, glued together with certain changes written for specific aims. Reform that corresponds to a true future need is not the aim, neither is development that takes into consideration everything that is going on in the societies around us. Everywhere you look there is democracy, transfer of power, parties, free elections. In Mauritania, they had free elections. In Palestine, they had free elections — elections for which they are paying for today. Even Iran had free elections despite the restrictions.



My writings are clear of slander and libel. Everybody knows that I have no vested interest in what I write. This in itself lends the writer protection.

Now, does the low turnout in the constitutional referendum mean people are not interested in democracy?

No. It means they want democracy they can respect. They hear talk about equality, but there is no equality. Freedom of expression is talked about, but it is not complete, there still are restrictions. Party life is not as it should be.

The Egyptian people have a long history of submission. They are very patient. I hope it does not get to this point. I believe Egyptians only rise if something outstanding happens; a big catastrophe, for example. In the meantime, the press is encouraged to focus on rumors and things like the Saffah El-Maadi [Maadi Stabber] or the Hala Sarhan story. Every day there is a new story to make people talk and forget about the fundamentals.

The media is starved of access to the truth, facts and figures. When news like this happens, everyone runs to cover it, and give it space. For real journalism, we go to the international press, such as the New Yorker, where we find information about ourselves. It is strange, but if you want facts and figures on a problem like poverty in the Arab world or Egypt, you will only get it from foreign sources.

I believe the problem with the press in Egypt lies in ownership and in the persisting hold of the government over the five major national newspapers. These papers, which were once the most important in the country, are completely subject to the government. This contradicts the fact that the makeup of society has changed. We are no longer a socialist country, they have taken that out of the amended Constitution. We have become a society based on a free economy, and the press must follow suit. This will make it more responsible to the reader. It will also allow for competitiveness.



My writings are clear of slander and libel. Everybody knows that I have no vested interest in what I write. This in itself lends the writer protection.

Another important problem is the absence of a law allowing the free flow of information. To get any information is one of the most difficult things. If you do get information, you could be sued for it. There is also a lack of a clear code of ethics that holds the journalist accountable. If all these problems were remedied, and we allowed the formation of newspapers according to clear rules, the press would become subject to the edicts of the market.

Your success as a newspaper will keep you going; your failure will make you close down. The reader is the best judge.

Makram Mohamed Ahmed, A Bright Spot

For many years, Makram Mohamed Ahmed was the chairman of Dar El-Hilal and the editor-in-chief of Al-Musawwar newspaper. When he retired two years ago, he chose to go back to his old home, Al-Ahram, where he started out as a young crime reporter back in 1958.

Today, his column Noqtet Nour (A Bright Spot) has earned him a reputation as one of Egypt’s most astute political analysts. Last December, Ahmed received the Press Syndicate Prize in recognition of his long and distinguished career.





A columnist has the privilege of variety, so long as what is written is the result of a lifetime of experience. I have only been writing a column for two years, but I have been writing op-eds for 50 years. I have been writing in politics for 30 years. This has to come out in the column. I must not just retell events. I tell a story to send a message. The writing, although serious, must not be dry.

If we are to speak about subjects, for a columnist, there are some areas that cannot be ignored. You cannot, for example, ignore the situation in Iraq. You cannot ignore what is happening in Palestine or Iran. These are all international issues that touch our lives. You cannot ignore the American administration and its involvement in the Middle East. You cannot ignore the crises that are cropping up one after the other ever since the Bush administration decided to get involved in the region, in the absence of a conciliatory vision [amongst Arab nations].

A column must also talk about local issues. This makes it more readable. The local issue is important because it directly touches people’s interests, and consequently their lives. I make sure I strike a balance between the local and the international issues I write about. I also do not like to write about a subject if another columnist has already written about it. I do not like to follow. If I find it imperative to write on the same subject, then I must have a new point of view to share.

The idea that a column must add something new is very crucial. The columnist has the experience to analyze problems and form an opinion. A column is much more than just some short points strung together. It is a bias to an opinion, to a vision.

Objectivity remains key. A writer must maintain a high level of objectivity in recounting facts and events. He can be subjective when it comes to the point of view. There is a difference between the point of view based on facts, and that which is based on internal meditation. I am not a poet or a novelist.

Throughout his long career, Ahmed has not suffered abrupt changes in loyalty or position. He worked at the head of a government publication, yet unlike many who have held similar positions, he has managed to maintain his integrity and consequently the loyalty of his readers.

The government has certain leanings, but I cannot be biased in favor of the government. If something requires opposition, I have to delve into it. The important thing is not to write in the tone employed by the opposition. I say what I want quietly. I do not like to scream; I also dislike pretensions of courage. Courage is cheap. You can insult the president and the prime minister, but in the end this is not the right way.

Writing in a quiet tone, you can question the government, hold it accountable. You can be angry, but all of this must be written in an acceptable context. The reader does not like it when the writer starts to throw around insults such as “traitor” or “agent.” If I know facts, then I just go ahead and state them honestly, logically and sanely. Of course, different writers have different styles, but I believe this style brings me closer to the people.

The reader of a column is dedicated to it. He likes to be educated in a certain subject and to be pointed toward a certain distinct opinion. The more modest the writer is, the more the readers trust him. They do not like it when you say ‘I’ at the beginning and ‘I’ at the end. You must allow your vision to sneak gently into the reader’s mind. This is success. Being offensive and pushing your idea on your reader leaves a bad aftertaste. A reader is made up of a heart and a mind. If you can talk to both equally, I believe this makes the column a success.

I graduated in 1958, and worked in all the jobs of Al-Ahram. I started out as a crime reporter in Rod El-Farag, looking for the man who bit his dog [he laughs at the old-fashioned reporter’s joke]. I searched for sensational news back then. I was a philosophy graduate, and was very upset when Al-Ahram told me the crime job was the only one available. In the end, I realized that it was the best way to start. Crime teaches you how to write a story and how to recount the news in a story form. More importantly, if you look at any crime, you can see all the flaws and problems of society. Besides, working in the field helps a young journalist make lots of friends. You have to make a connection with people directly and quickly.

Afterward, I worked in the features section, and then I became the editor of the features department. Then I became a war correspondent, covering many wars like the Yemen, Eritrea and 1967 wars. During the 1973 War, I became the main war story writer for Al-Ahram.

I visited all of Egypt and have tried to stay away from ideological casts. At the age of 12, I joined the Muslim Brotherhood, but soon, when I started to think, I left them. HDTO, a communist group, tried to recruit me, but in the end I joined no groups. I sympathized with the idea of social justice. I used to warn my friends and colleagues against putting themselves in rigid casts, and advised them to get to know their country very well before forming an opinion. A journalist is not a philosopher who tries to fit the world to a theory. A journalist is a spectator whose job is to criticize. His senses must be constantly awake. Learn, think and doubt until you reach the truth about yourself. When you find out who you are, you can start to state your own clear opinion.

No matter how educated a person is, you cannot just sit them at a desk and ask them to write an opinion piece. He can write, but I believe a journalist who has worked inside the kitchen of this profession will be much more capable of drawing the reader in.

Asked who his favorite columnists are, Ahmed first points out he does not want to offend anyone by naming names.

I read the writings of all the columnists who represent modern and objective visions. The number of columns in newspapers has increased. Of course I read Salama, Magdy Mehanna. I like Abdel Aal El-Baqoury very much sometimes. I read Azan wa Oyoun by Jihad El-Khazen (Al-Hayat), I read Ghassan Twainy regularly (Annahar). I also read Talal Salman (Assafir) daily. Despite these two being from different schools, I need to read both to understand what is going on in Lebanon. I also read the op-eds of many international newspapers, including the Washington Post, New York Times and the Guardian. I also look for important stories concerning the Middle East, the Arab world and the Arab-Israeli conflict.

Why is Egypt’s profile in international media not what it once was? Unfortunately, Cairo is no longer the news-making hub it used to be before. We are too consumed by our local issues; our press has become largely local. I know a journalist who writes about nothing except el-tawrith [‘inheritance’ or ‘ascension’ — in other words, will Gamal Mubarak run for the presidency?] each week. The elections, the economic situation, privatization: These are the topics our press focuses on.

In the past, Al-Ahram used to come up with international scoops. Even our journalists were better, more resourceful. Today, Egyptian journalists are too busy. Have you heard of the taxi-journalist? They want to write an article here, a feature there and a column I don’t know where, just to make ends meet. The idea of pride in and belonging to your publication is no longer an issue. The prospect of affecting public opinion or appreciating one’s own self-worth as a journalist is no longer tempting.

Although television comes up with most of the scoops in the West, you find that a newspaper like the New York Times runs important stories and leaks that are considered monumental. Despite that, in this age the important publication is the one that relies on comment, on features and the stories behind the news. That is not to say that news itself is not important. A newspaper without news misses a basic element.

Ahmed could easily be described as an inveterate journalist — one of that dying breed that eats, drinks and breathes news. Does it ever get to him? Despite his disappointment, Ahmed maintains that one should never lose hope. Indeed, it’s a theme that seems to constantly crop up in his columns. There is a hopeful tone to his writing —an underlying belief that tomorrow may bring something better.

Everything around us is depressing. If a writer is sensitive to his country’s problems, of course it gets to him, and consequently affects his writing. These are things I live with every day. I cannot just stand and watch. I cannot distance myself from the events. Can anyone simply be a spectator regarding the clashes between Fatah and Hamas?

I think some things drive you to adopt a position that even goes beyond a simple opinion. A writer has the right to react, feel angry, even feel enraged and to express this rage in his column. This is not unique to journalists. Many intellectuals feel the same way. These people are the true salt of the earth; their own being depends on the collective being. The collective being goes much deeper than what the public opinion is at one point. For some, it means that your conscience drives you to act. You constantly feel that you must comment and that you have a role to play.

I believe the future will necessarily be better. I believe the relationship between the power and the people is tipping in favor of the people, in spite of everything. Look at how cautious the government is taking decisions that directly affect people’s everyday lives. Look at their fear of increasing the price of bread, or the fear they display when a problem like polluted drinking water comes up. Although we do not have the tools to measure public opinion, officials are afraid to do anything that goes against it.

I believe it all started in 1967, when the masses went out to tell Nasser, “Wake up, see what’s going on around you.” I think the curve of power is dipping, while the curve of the people is rising. President Mubarak now clearly says, “I can’t just take certain decisions —I have to think about public opinion.” Just watch what is going on in the labor circles.

When all the workers stood together, the government had to agree to all of their demands. Again, when the journalists stood together against a new law increasing the penalties of publishing offenses, the government had to withdraw it.

The Egyptian man on the street remains busy with work and daily life, trying to provide for his children, until he becomes a member in a group. It is then that the influence of the individual is felt. Look at the judges and at the way the masses rose to their assistance.

The answer to going forward isn’t constitutional change, but free elections.

Magdy Mehanna’s Forbidden Zone

When Magdy Mehanna stopped writing his daily column for the independent daily Al-Masry Al-Youm a few months last summer, readers accustomed to their regular doses of his cutting analyses and commentary wondered what could be so important as to keep their writer away from them.

When they found out he had been undergoing a major health crisis, their questions turned to prayers for his speedy recovery. At 50, Mehanna has been writing his column for 22 years, taking it with him to different newspapers. Which means he was a relatively young 28 when he started writing a daily column. Mehanna believes age is not an issue and is today a thing of the past.

I did not foresee people’s reactions to my absence. I knew there was a strong bond between me and the people, whether they are colleagues or readers, but I did not anticipate even one of over 1,000 of their reactions. Years ago, I used to write a daily column for Al-Wafd newspaper, and when I was fired, I felt people’s reactions, empathy and concern.

But the past crisis was different: Even government officials were concerned and asked after me.

Journalists as young as 20 or 25 are writing highly professional editorials. A column is like a shooting bullet. For the reader, it is like a small cup of coffee in the morning. It must be read this way. The idea has to be concrete and concise. Sentences must be short and fast. The idea must be clear, which keeps the reader following the column every day. If the idea is ambiguous or written in a manner that makes it difficult to understand, a reader would read this column once, but would not go back to it.

I do not think I was influenced by one particular writer that I tried to follow. I was certainly influenced by the style and objectivity of Ahmed Bahaa Eddin, because he handled issues with a very high degree of objectivity and without any bias. I liked the writing style of Mostafa Amin. For him, a column was like a bullet. I was also influenced by the writing of Galal Eddin El-Hamamsy, and I enjoyed reading Mohamed El-Tabei — again, the short and fast sentences, the clear ideas, the way he went directly into the topic. I cannot say that my writing is a cocktail of all these writers’ styles. When I write, I do not really know how I write. I do not know how I am going to write. I begin the first sentence by going straight into the topic, and then I write the second sentence without knowing what the third is going to be. Much like an artist who is just doodling on a canvas, but it turns into a painting in the end.

I follow Salama Ahmed Salama’s writing, and to a lesser degree Makram Mohamed Ahmed. I also read Salah Montasser, Anis Mansour, and all the rest, but not daily. It really depends on my time. On the Arab level, I do not have a writer whose work I follow entirely. I like to read Jihad El-Khazen, of course, but other than that my reading is sporadic.

Writing a column is a big responsibility. The idea is to continue speaking for the people, writing for them and not for anyone else. It is a great burden, because I have to find an idea every day. The idea has to be satisfying or at least quite good. You need to follow the news, be open to new opinions, but you also need to have contacts to have access to information. A column is often built upon a certain fact or a figure.

It was only through his contacts inside the governing National Democratic Party that Mehanna was able to answer a question he had asked in some of his columns: Whether Gamal Mubarak was involved in the upcoming constitutional amendments. The constitutional amendments, the transfer of power, the elections, the government’s position regarding the Brotherhood —these are all topics that keep cropping up in Mehanna’s columns.

The media is another recurring topic in Mehanna’s column. He was a major player in the battle against the passing of law No. 93 for the year 1995. In the early 1990s, Mehanna worked to mobilize journalists against laws limiting their freedom and subjecting them to being imprisoned for publishing offenses. The major sit-in at the Press Syndicate, in which Mehanna participated and which lasted several weeks, marked a turning point in modern media history and even found its way into popular culture with films depicting the crisis.

On the surface, he [Gamal Mubarak] is not there and has no role in the discourse going on. But I believe this is intentional, so people do not link him to the amendments and start wondering about his ambitions or what comes up regarding the ascension. The fact that he is involved cannot be denied. He is a key player in the kitchen of the NDP.

I cannot say I have had problems, such as threats, for example, stemming from what I have written. No, this has never happened to me. Some people tell me such and such a person or official is upset or something. But no threats. Maybe because my writings are clear of slander and libel. Maybe also because everybody, including the government, knows that I have no vested interest in what I write. This in itself lends a writer protection. I write against the government sometimes, but other times I write against the opposition. The important thing is to speak what is on people’s minds, to stand up for them.

The people are caught up in the constant struggle to survive and secure their daily bread. Until today, and despite all that is being said about political reform and constitutional reform, people have no trust in the government. I do not think this is going to change much.

At first, the government talked about reform, driven by external agendas. There were American pressures and European pressure on the governments of Egypt and the Arab world to speed up democratic reform. It is obvious now that the US has greatly lifted this pressure because it needs the support of the Arab regimes, largely because of what is going on in Iraq. Egypt, Saudi Arabia and Jordan are linked to the US policies and are driven behind what the US politics wants from the region. The fear to oppose or collide with the US proves that these regimes have much to fear. They feel that if they do not play this role, their power or hold will be at stake.

The position against Iran, for example, is strange to say the least. It is not in Egypt’s interest, or in that of the Arab states, to seek a head-on collision with Iran. If Iran has an agenda for the region, then this is not something to be held against it. It is to be held against the Arabs that they do not have an agenda for their own region. The US agenda is very clear, and if Iran feels it must employ a strategy or an agenda to counteract it, then it is Iran’s right to do so.

Egypt is trying to play a certain role in Iraq, Palestine or Lebanon, but in the end this role is limited.

The people, on the other hand, are still more concerned with securing the essentials. Democracy remains the demand of the elites. But when an issue like the Brotherhood comes up, people feel sympathy because the Brotherhood has ingrained itself in the very fiber of Egyptian society. The severe strikes against this group are winning it the compassion and empathy of groups that may disagree with the Brotherhood’s thought but are against the use of violence against them or any other group. The government has to realize that the Brotherhood’s is a political problem in need of a political solution.

As a consequence of the way things are handled now, both benefit, yet both are paying a price. They are arrested, yes, but you give them public attention. At the same time, you scare the people seeking change inside the country, and you scare external powers by showing them what the alternative is. The Brotherhood and the government are benefiting from this game, the only loser being democracy and the greater percentage of Egyptian people.

I believe the press is passing through a transitory period. In the far future, I believe the government will have to lift its hold on the press. It cannot continue to fund what are called the “national papers.” They continue to hold on to them, but this will be the case for the next five to 10 years only. The future belongs to the private and independent press.

The main problem with the press lies in the absence of a free flow of information. There is no news and no information because everything takes place behind closed doors, and then decisions are sprung on us suddenly. Take the Constitution, for example. We did not know for the longest time what it would be like because everything was going on in secret. We discuss it and talk about it, but it is all camouflage. The party will do what it wants