U.S. President Barack Obama, Giza Plateau, Cairo, June 4, 2010. Pete Souza/White House/Getty Image
July 15, 2012
When Egyptian President Mohammed Morsi declared it his “duty” to
free Omar Abdel Rahman—the man behind the 1993 bombing of the World Trade
Center that killed six and injured one thousand—it was not a very auspicious
beginning for relations between the United States and the ‘new’ Egypt. The U.S.
Congress, particularly the delegation from the New York City area, expressed
outrage.
Egypt watchers and Middle East analysts sought to put the new
president’s words in context. Morsi is weak. He needs to secure his base and
play to public sentiment while he consolidates his power. He does not really intend
to pursue Abdel Rahman’s release from U.S. federal prison. Washington would be
better served to disregard what was clearly a calculated political move. There
are more pressing issues in the U.S.-Egypt relationship than a sick and aging
militant.
This sober analysis is entirely accurate, but it sidesteps the
central change that has occurred in Egypt since the revolution. Hosni Mubarak
could largely ignore public opinion because Egyptian citizens did not have a
mechanism for holding their leaders accountable. Now they do. Current and
future leaders who disregard public sentiment will do so at their own risk.
The consequence for the United States is likely to be a greatly
changed relationship with Egypt. The strategic alignment and the partnership in
pursuing Arab-Israeli peace are at best going to get more difficult to manage.
At worst, this cooperation will come to an end altogether. Although some
analysts are quick to claim that the coming transformation of the U.S.-Egypt
relationship is a function of the Muslim Brotherhood’s longstanding
anti-American posture, it is more accurately a result of politics and a
reflection of Egyptian public opinion. Cairo-Washington ties and the
relationship between Mubarak’s Egypt and Israel were profoundly unpopular among
Egyptians. In a more open era of Egyptian politics, Washington will discover
that over time Cairo will be considerably less willing to support American
goals and interests in the Middle East.
Since Mubarak’s fall, Egyptians have turned inward, focusing
their energies on an ongoing national debate about the country’s proper form of
government and the best way to achieve social justice, economic prosperity, and
dignity. Analysts have argued that as a result, Egyptians have less time and
attention for foreign policy, in particular the issues that most concern the
American foreign policy establishment—the strategic relationship between
Washington and Cairo and the status of the Egypt-Israel peace treaty.
Yet, the United States (and by extension Israel) have long been
important and generally negative factors in Egyptian politics. The January 25
uprising was not about the United States, although it was about national
empowerment. For Egyptian revolutionaries, leftists, Islamists, and many
liberals, the strategic ties between Washington and Cairo made no sense on both
nationalist and strategic grounds. Indeed, the regime that Mubarak led, which
had been handed down to him from Anwar Sadat and Gamal Abdel Nasser, was
founded in part on opposition to foreign domination.
In addition, as time went by, the Egyptian-American relationship
had, in the words of the Muslim Brotherhood’s 2010 electoral platform,
“rendered Egypt a secondary power” in a region that it had previously led.
Shrewdly, Egypt’s opposition, especially the Brotherhood, used the
Cairo-Washington connection to undermine Mubarak’s regime. The burden on
Morsi—if he would like to be re-elected—is to demonstrate that he represents a
clean break. The fact that the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF)
gutted the president’s powers through a constitutional decree means that
Morsi’s only source of authority is his ability to appeal to the street and
subsequently harvest votes. That partly explains his rhetoric on Sheikh Omar
Abdul Rahman. The issue will not lead to a breach in relations with the U.S.,
but it does add a certain amount of tension.
More broadly, Mubarak’s Egypt was a linchpin in a regional
political order—that also included Jordan, Morocco, Saudi Arabia, and the small
Gulf states—that helped the United States realize its regional and even global
interests. It’s unlikely that President Morsi, unlike Mubarak, will order
Egypt’s security services to stop and literally take apart a North Korean
vessel transiting through the Suez Canal based on an American suspicion that
the ship was carrying missiles destined for Syria. Whereas Mubarak seemed
willing—albeit with a measure of reluctance and public protestation—to do
America’s bidding, Morsi simply cannot. He has to be a better nationalist, a
better steward of Egypt’s interests, and more mindful of Egypt’s place in the
Middle East. If he does not, Morsi will become a short-lived local experiment
in Islamist power and be replaced by someone who can approximate the deeply
held ideals and aspirations of the newly empowered Egyptian electorate.
President Barack Obama and his administration handled the
Egyptian uprising about as well as could be expected. What was happening on the
streets of Egypt during those eighteen days in early 2011 was
unprecedented. To be sure, Egypt has seen mass protests before but, with the
exception of a brief moment during the 1977 bread riots, the regime’s
durability never seemed in doubt. From the very start, the January 25 protests
seemed different, which is why the accusation that Obama “lost Egypt” is so
misplaced. The United States had no way of altering the trajectory of events
once the uprising began. It was impossible to “save Mubarak”—as valuable an
ally as he may have been over the previous thirty years—without encouraging
massive bloodshed. This was not something that Obama was prepared to do. So,
the United States threw its support behind those who want to live in a more
democratic society.
Until Morsi’s election in June, U.S. policy was more an
aspiration—the development of a democratic Egypt—than an actual policy. To the
extent that Washington has a policy toward a more democratic Egypt, it is to
engage, adjust, and hope that its interests—over-flight rights, expedited
transit through the Suez Canal and other security-related logistical support,
and peace along the Egyptian-Israeli frontier—will remain intact.
It is unclear how the United States will go about securing these
interests. U.S. policy has been predicated on a deal with President Mubarak and
the Egyptian military that conflicted with Washington’s stated desire to see
democracy take root on the banks of the Nile. If Washington pursues a similar
approach where it relies on the military to help achieve its goals, this contradiction
will once again make the United States an important, but essentially negative
factor, in Egyptian politics. In the short run, SCAF is intent on maintaining
its autonomy and seems willing to continue to accept U.S. aid, but that does
not mean that Washington has leverage over the generals. Washington needs them
as much as the Egyptian Ministry of Defense needs the Pentagon.
Indeed, assistance—both military and economic—cuts both ways for
the United States. Washington’s annual $1.3 billion aid package does appear to
have some influence over important players at critical moments, but it is
largely a negative factor, and will likely have diminishing returns in a more
democratic Egypt. In addition, the U.S. Congress is wary of both the Muslim
Brotherhood and SCAF. This will almost certainly result in a bruising battle on
Capitol Hill about the future of the aid—something most Egyptians seem to be
ambivalent about, anyway.
As much as official Washington hopes it can muddle through
Egypt’s prolonged transition with its interests intact, the American position
in Egypt will change and it will wane. And any side deal–which would have the
elected civilian government tending to domestic issues while Egypt’s generals
ensure U.S. strategic interests—will prove unsustainable. Washington must fully
come to terms with a new and perhaps democratic Egypt.
Steven A. Cook is the Hasib J. Sabbagh Senior Fellow for Middle East
Studies at the Council on Foreign Relations, where he publishes the blog “From
the Potomac to the Euphrates.” He has written for Foreign Affairs, Foreign
Policy, the New York Times, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, and Financial
Times. His most recent book is The Struggle for Egypt: From Nasser to Tahrir
Square. He can be followed on Twitter at @stevenacook.