The Book Of Revolution

28/01/11

“The Book Of Revolution is not written, it is sung.”

Alexis Madrigal at The Atlantic has a translation of what appears to be the manual of the Egyptian protestors – except that, if they’re following this text, they’re not engaging in civil disobedience, they’re attempting – or believe they are attempting – the full monty.

Briefly – because that manual is too fascinating to mess around talking about it and analysing it too much right now – that is a professional document. It is written by someone with some form in civil disobedience. It is cautious of communications media – the new dictat of technologically asymmetrical rebellion is that you abandon more advanced comms for more secure ones. A lot of thought has gone into it. There’s always one, wherever you are; announce you’re having a demo, and it turns out the mild little bloke who makes the tea is a union rep.

The document makes no mention of religion, but it does strike the basic chords I mentioned in my earlier post – it talks about freedom, justice, and peace, and it mentions the exploitation of Egypt’s resources in the context of those things. In other words, it may not be directly taken from 1917, but it wouldn’t look out of place there, either.

The question is what will happen to this action plan out in the world. At the Poll Tax riots here in the UK in the 80s, I saw three disparate strands of rhetoric become one at the lowest common denominator. The South Africa House Picket was about the ‘fascist South African Embassy’; the Anarchists were screaming that the police were the ‘Guardians of the fascist ruling class’; and the Socialist Worker people were talking about the ‘fascist Poll Tax disenfranchising the working man’ and the representatives of the government were – again – the police. That wasn’t half so loaded nor so lethal a situation as what’s happening in Egypt, but you know the outcome: South Africa House was set on fire, and the police were suddenly in a fight they weren’t really prepared for.

The five hundred devils of revolution – personal greed, personal fear, political expediency, cock-up, itchy trigger fingers, old scores and vengeance, opportunism, fundamentalism both religious and secular, overcaution, overextension, betrayal from without, and misunderstanding, to name just a few – will be out in force if this really does become the moment Egypt enters a new era.

I realise I sound like a doom-monger. I’m not. I believe this can be a moment of positive change. But only if those inside hold the line, and the governments of the world around behave with an eye to the long haul and the world we want, not the world we fear. Since 1989, we have missed any number of moments where a little hope and a little courage from our governments might have achieved amazing things. We missed, for example, the moment when Russia could have become truly democratic.

Let’s not miss this one. Please.

3 Comments to “The Book Of Revolution”

Matt Keefe said on January 28th, 2011:

I’m crossing posts here – the difference in our definitions of revolution is just semantics, and possibly my poor wording – I’m not defining revolution any differently than you are. What I’m saying is that I don’t think the circumstances are present in Egypt to make it the kind of revolution that occurred in France or Russia. Political and social affairs in Egypt are well advanced of the stages they were at in France and Russia respectively. The population is substantially better educated. Anger is directed towards a ruling cadre, but not a class in the European aristocratic sense – it isn’t as large as that (in Saudi Arabia, of course, it is). The gap between the middle and working classes in Egypt is much less, and the potential for the five hundred devils you speak of is much lesser than it was in either France or Russia. The astonishing lack of desire for revenge is one very notable part of the overthrow in Tunisia; while Egypt has somewhat more bad blood between groups within its society, my belief is that the more destructive desires often found amongst the oppressed and released at opportunity are considerably less than in the cases to which you compare.

1989 is highly relevant. I should have mentioned it in my prior comment. We can see a distinction there between the countries that figuratively went West at the collapse of communism – the 10 or 12 states now part of the European Union – and those that that went East (or South, depending how you look at it) – the countries of Central Asia and the Caucasus, Belarus, Moldova, and so on. That’s nuanced, of course, both by the existence of those who professed having gone West – Kazakhstan, for one – but in doing so really became tolerated dictatorships strategically useful to the US, and of countries which became stuck somewhat in the middle – Ukraine, and arguably Georgia. If we were to draw a vague comparison because the Middle East now and Eastern Europe in 1989, then of course we can expect to see instances of all such outcomes. What I’m saying is that I think factors pertinent to such events point to a much greater likelihood of Egypt (and Tunisia) being the Polands/Hungarys/Czech Republics of the equation, not the Belaruses, Moldovas or Turkmenistans.

All such outcomes are possible, but what I’m saying is that countries like Tunisia are at a point much comparable to 1989 than 1917. In many ways, they’re substantially in advance of that, and Egypt has already been through its ‘Kazakhstan phase’ – that’s what we’re seeing the likely end of tonight. I agree about the impossibility of conscious collective action in the midst of these kinds of situations, but nevertheless the pressures are not the same. Certainly they could re-enter such a phase, and that’s where the influence of outside nations has a role to play, but I simply don’t see the circumstances as at all likely to produce anything really comparable to the Russian or French revolutions. A failed democratic transition is quite different to the conscious abandonment of democracy, which occured in the creation of the USSR.

Of primary importance is that the United States changes – indeed, virtually reverses – its security priorities. They have provided much of the justification for repression in Arab nations in the name of their own security. It’s a horrible, sticky chicken-and-egg question they’ve never had the courage or the will to resolve. They will need to do so now. In that regard, I suppose we are relatively lucky that it is Obama in the White House.

But those are specifics. What I’m really trying to say is that your generalisations about revolution are true enough (and they do indeed sound rather studied; I may be out of my depth) but that I do not see the analogy and comparisons made as half as strong as the general points regarding potential for failure. Perhaps I’m talking in terms of likelihoods and you’re describing particularly the perils. I see those perils, and if this becomes the Arab Spring, then I’m quite sure we’ll see the kind of catastrophic failures and disappointments you describe, but Egypt and Tunisia are not the likely candidates. Nor in my estimation are Jordan or Syria, should something like this happen there. Algeria, Yemen and Oman are. Perhaps Libya too. Saudi Arabia similarly but differently. These two now, where we’ve seen it begun, should be the countries giving us cause for the most hope, in my opinion.
Matt Keefe said on January 28th, 2011:

As an aside, I began learning Arabic about 18 months ago. Shortly afterwards, I placed an ad on a language exchange website looking for Arabic penpals. A goodly number were hopeful young Egyptians – often graduates, usually unemployed – hoping to learn English. Exchanges were basic, and the topics discussed necessarily sensitive, but they would add me on Facebook and I’d become privvy to little bits and pieces of dialogue flying back and forth between Arab youth. I recall thinking perhaps 6 or 7 months that of all the people I had ever met or spoken to, these young Egyptians seemed the most likely to start a revolution – and not because I thought it was imminent, but simply because of the passion and erudition with which my Egyptian friends spoke of their own circumstances – and the most likely to be capable of carrying it off. Egypt had a capable generation presented with similar opportunities before, and they failed. Many Arab intellectuals pin this on apathy (and this is where I recommend Mahfouz for context) and a sense that people accepted good enough when they should have pushed for more. That’s a large part of the reason why I really don’t see them repeating any great number of the mistakes of revolutions past, their own or otherwise.
holden said on February 9th, 2011:

hi

and thank for your book
from france

http://www.unwalkers.com/gonzo-lubitsch-ou-lincroyable-odyssee-de-harkaway-nick/