By
Mortada Mansour, a pugnacious Egyptian politician, likes to boast that he beats his rivals with his shoe — so much, in fact, that he has lost count of the number of disputes he has settled in that manner. “I ran out of shoes,” said Mr. Mansour, who once spent time in jail for insulting a judge.
That provocative style has made Mr. Mansour a darling of Egypt’s gossipy television talk shows. But it led to an uproar in the new Parliament on Jan. 10 when Mr. Mansour refused to take the prescribed constitutional oath, saying he disliked the wording, drawing shouted rebukes from other lawmakers that plunged the session into chaos.
The turmoil abated when Mr. Mansour reluctantly mumbled the correct words. But to many Egyptians who watched with a mix of fascination and dismay on television, it only confirmed their low expectations of the new Parliament, which is fragmented, weak and heavily tilted in favor of President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi.
Newspapers lampooned the proceedings, in which lawmakers were seen taking selfies and waving to the cameras, and which one normally pro-Sisi television host derided as a “circus.” One veteran lawmaker tendered his resignation in protest; others voted to cut the live transmission of proceedings.
In contrast, outside Parliament’s gates, Egyptian security forces were rounding up opposition activists in advance of an anniversary on Jan. 25 that, to some at least, represents the bitter failings of Egypt’s turbulent political trajectory.
That date marks the start of the 2011 revolution that led to the ouster of President Hosni Mubarak and, two years later, the arrival of Mr. Sisi after a military takeover that ousted President Mohamed Morsi of the Muslim Brotherhood from power. This year, however, Mr. Sisi has repeatedly warned that no public protest will be tolerated.
Among those detained in recent days were three activists who were taken from an apartment in downtown Cairo and later accused of printing material calling for the overthrow of the government, the newspaper Mada Masr reported on Friday. A poet and a website editor were also detained but later released. Weeks earlier, the authorities shuttered an arts center in Cairo, apparently as part of the same crackdown.
On the ground, though, there is little sign of major demonstrations in the works. The news media is largely supportive of Mr. Sisi, and since 2013 tens of thousands of people have been imprisoned — supporters of the outlawed Muslim Brotherhood but also civil society activists and journalists.
Instead the political space is dominated by the new Parliament, whose first task is to review 340 laws passed since January 2014, and which is filled with staunch pro-Sisi figures like Mr. Mansour.
A jurist by training, Mr. Mansour has long relished his role in the public eye. Over the decades, he has clashed with public figures as diverse as judges, soccer fans and belly dancers. His favored platform is in the courts, where he has filed and been the subject of numerous lawsuits, and television, where he makes forceful if often lurid pronouncements against his rivals.
Some are accused of being C.I.A. agents, others are subject to insults based on their appearance. (In an interview, he described former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice as having “the legs of a goat.”) Last year another lawyer successfully prosecuted him for libel.
His public reputation soared two years ago when he was elected chairman of the Zamalek Sports Club, a cherished century-old institution in Cairo that hosts one of the country’s most popular soccer teams. Mr. Mansour oversaw a major renovation of the club’s facilities but became embroiled in a bitter confrontation with the soccer team’s hard-core fan base, known as ultras, who at one point threw urine in his face. (He claimed it was acid.)
Critics have painted Mr. Mansour as a booster for Mr. Mubarak, and accused him of organizing an infamous camel charge against anti-Mubarak protesters massed in Tahrir Square. (The case against him collapsed in court.)
In an interview at Zamalek Sports Club, seated before a giant portrait of himself, Mr. Mansour insisted that he was no Mubarak supporter, yet also made it clear that he detested the events that led to his ouster five years ago — a commonly held position among Mr. Sisi’s supporters.
He refused the constitutional oath this past week, he said, because it described the 2011 protests as a “revolution.”
“A revolution has to have a leader,” he said. “This was simply the biggest chaos in history.” Egypt’s real revolution, he added, was the military takeover that brought Mr. Sisi to power in 2013.
He is also a vocal proponent of unlikely if common theories in Egypt that President Obama and the United States, despite $1.3 billion in annual aid to Mr. Sisi’s government, are secretly conspiring to bring the Muslim Brotherhood into power.
“We hate Obama because he’s a liar and hypocrite,” he said. “He’s the one who sponsored Al Qaeda until it turned against him. Now the United States wants the Muslim Brotherhood to rule Egypt.”
He spoke in an office overlooking a complex of newly built swimming pools and cafes filled with families. Around him sat supporters, some clad in track suits, who cheered or laughed at his more provocative opinions.
Mr. Mansour’s brash manner and absurdist statements have paid rich electoral dividends: Both he and his son, Ahmed, have been elected to Parliament. Last week he became head of a committee responsible for reviewing human rights laws introduced under Mr. Sisi. The committee approved all eight laws in just one session, Mr. Mansour said.
Analysts say they do not expect Parliament to oppose any of the tough laws on terrorism, political protest or freedom of expression. But laws on Civil Service reform and investment, which touch on the political or financial interests of leading lawmakers, may receive sharper scrutiny, and even risk being rejected.
If Mr. Mansour continues on the human rights committee, he is likely to play a prominent role in shaping a proposed law to regulate, and likely curtail, the activities of foreign aid organizations in Egypt. But his immediate concern is countering the young Egyptians, many openly disillusioned with politics, who mock him on Facebook, a medium he describes as a “gutter of filth.”
“This is the youth that are wearing tight pants and taking money from their fathers and taking 15 years to graduate from college,” he said. “They smoke pot. They insult their girlfriends on Facebook. They have no value in this country.”
That provocative style has made Mr. Mansour a darling of Egypt’s gossipy television talk shows. But it led to an uproar in the new Parliament on Jan. 10 when Mr. Mansour refused to take the prescribed constitutional oath, saying he disliked the wording, drawing shouted rebukes from other lawmakers that plunged the session into chaos.
The turmoil abated when Mr. Mansour reluctantly mumbled the correct words. But to many Egyptians who watched with a mix of fascination and dismay on television, it only confirmed their low expectations of the new Parliament, which is fragmented, weak and heavily tilted in favor of President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi.
Newspapers lampooned the proceedings, in which lawmakers were seen taking selfies and waving to the cameras, and which one normally pro-Sisi television host derided as a “circus.” One veteran lawmaker tendered his resignation in protest; others voted to cut the live transmission of proceedings.
In contrast, outside Parliament’s gates, Egyptian security forces were rounding up opposition activists in advance of an anniversary on Jan. 25 that, to some at least, represents the bitter failings of Egypt’s turbulent political trajectory.
That date marks the start of the 2011 revolution that led to the ouster of President Hosni Mubarak and, two years later, the arrival of Mr. Sisi after a military takeover that ousted President Mohamed Morsi of the Muslim Brotherhood from power. This year, however, Mr. Sisi has repeatedly warned that no public protest will be tolerated.
Among those detained in recent days were three activists who were taken from an apartment in downtown Cairo and later accused of printing material calling for the overthrow of the government, the newspaper Mada Masr reported on Friday. A poet and a website editor were also detained but later released. Weeks earlier, the authorities shuttered an arts center in Cairo, apparently as part of the same crackdown.
On the ground, though, there is little sign of major demonstrations in the works. The news media is largely supportive of Mr. Sisi, and since 2013 tens of thousands of people have been imprisoned — supporters of the outlawed Muslim Brotherhood but also civil society activists and journalists.
Instead the political space is dominated by the new Parliament, whose first task is to review 340 laws passed since January 2014, and which is filled with staunch pro-Sisi figures like Mr. Mansour.
A jurist by training, Mr. Mansour has long relished his role in the public eye. Over the decades, he has clashed with public figures as diverse as judges, soccer fans and belly dancers. His favored platform is in the courts, where he has filed and been the subject of numerous lawsuits, and television, where he makes forceful if often lurid pronouncements against his rivals.
Some are accused of being C.I.A. agents, others are subject to insults based on their appearance. (In an interview, he described former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice as having “the legs of a goat.”) Last year another lawyer successfully prosecuted him for libel.
His public reputation soared two years ago when he was elected chairman of the Zamalek Sports Club, a cherished century-old institution in Cairo that hosts one of the country’s most popular soccer teams. Mr. Mansour oversaw a major renovation of the club’s facilities but became embroiled in a bitter confrontation with the soccer team’s hard-core fan base, known as ultras, who at one point threw urine in his face. (He claimed it was acid.)
Critics have painted Mr. Mansour as a booster for Mr. Mubarak, and accused him of organizing an infamous camel charge against anti-Mubarak protesters massed in Tahrir Square. (The case against him collapsed in court.)
In an interview at Zamalek Sports Club, seated before a giant portrait of himself, Mr. Mansour insisted that he was no Mubarak supporter, yet also made it clear that he detested the events that led to his ouster five years ago — a commonly held position among Mr. Sisi’s supporters.
He refused the constitutional oath this past week, he said, because it described the 2011 protests as a “revolution.”
“A revolution has to have a leader,” he said. “This was simply the biggest chaos in history.” Egypt’s real revolution, he added, was the military takeover that brought Mr. Sisi to power in 2013.
He is also a vocal proponent of unlikely if common theories in Egypt that President Obama and the United States, despite $1.3 billion in annual aid to Mr. Sisi’s government, are secretly conspiring to bring the Muslim Brotherhood into power.
“We hate Obama because he’s a liar and hypocrite,” he said. “He’s the one who sponsored Al Qaeda until it turned against him. Now the United States wants the Muslim Brotherhood to rule Egypt.”
He spoke in an office overlooking a complex of newly built swimming pools and cafes filled with families. Around him sat supporters, some clad in track suits, who cheered or laughed at his more provocative opinions.
Mr. Mansour’s brash manner and absurdist statements have paid rich electoral dividends: Both he and his son, Ahmed, have been elected to Parliament. Last week he became head of a committee responsible for reviewing human rights laws introduced under Mr. Sisi. The committee approved all eight laws in just one session, Mr. Mansour said.
Analysts say they do not expect Parliament to oppose any of the tough laws on terrorism, political protest or freedom of expression. But laws on Civil Service reform and investment, which touch on the political or financial interests of leading lawmakers, may receive sharper scrutiny, and even risk being rejected.
If Mr. Mansour continues on the human rights committee, he is likely to play a prominent role in shaping a proposed law to regulate, and likely curtail, the activities of foreign aid organizations in Egypt. But his immediate concern is countering the young Egyptians, many openly disillusioned with politics, who mock him on Facebook, a medium he describes as a “gutter of filth.”
“This is the youth that are wearing tight pants and taking money from their fathers and taking 15 years to graduate from college,” he said. “They smoke pot. They insult their girlfriends on Facebook. They have no value in this country.”
0 Comments:
Post a Comment