The Muslim Brotherhood (8 page)

This basic contradiction within the Ikhwan was demonstrated again in 2007 when it put forward a draft platform that was widely interpreted as an attempt to demonstrate what a Brotherhood manifesto would look like should it ever decide to apply to become a political party. It was also in part a response to the growing calls by commentators – including those from abroad – for the Ikhwan to be more explicit in articulating its policies. But as ever, the Ikhwan failed to spell out some of the more difficult elements and the draft was notable for avoiding any discussion of the future relationship
between the political party they asserted that they hoped to build and the broader movement.
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More importantly, although the platform’s overall tone was in line with earlier reform initiatives that stressed a commitment to civic democracy and the rotation of power, in among this reformist language were two highly controversial and reactionary bombshells.

The first of these controversial elements was a call for the creation of a council of clerics that would be elected by religious scholars to advise the legislative and executive in matters of Sharia. The draft implied that the council’s decisions would be binding in matters where Sharia was at stake. Secondly, whilst the platform acknowledged the rights of women and Copts as full citizens within the Egyptian state, it specified that neither could take the post of President. These proposals effectively killed all the progress that the Ikhwan had made in convincing the world that it had really changed, was committed to democracy and deserved a turn in power. Whilst likely to have pleased much of the Ikhwan’s core support base, as far as the outside world was concerned these suggestions were a major step backwards and tantamount to the Brotherhood shooting itself in the foot.

Yet the platform was in part a means for the conservative old guard to reassert their control and take back some momentum from the reformist wing. According to some Ikhwani, those of a more reformist bent had agreed to a draft platform. However, those of a more traditional stance acted unilaterally and inserted these more controversial elements into the agreed document at the last moment, something that sparked fierce internal wrangling within the Ikhwan.
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Clearly, in spite of all the talk of
shura
, just as in the days of al-Banna the leadership still considered it to be within their rights to act as they saw fit, regardless of the views of other key players in the movement.

The draft also did further damage to the Ikhwan’s bid to present a united face to the world: the divisions over the platform came to be played out in the public domain. The conservative current accused the
liberal camp of ‘violating clear Sharia-based principles in the quest for momentary political advantage’.
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Indeed, former Deputy to Murshid Mohamed Habib, along with General Secretary Mahmoud Izzat, defended the controversial elements in the draft platform. Allegedly, Izzat claimed that those who had objected to these controversial elements did not have any support in Sharia law.
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The reformist camp, led by Aboul Fotouh, meanwhile told the press that the proposal about the court of clerics was simply ‘bad editing’, something that was completely at odds with Mohamed Habib’s take on the document.
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The divisions became so acute that they spilled over into the wider movement and a number of young Ikhwani activists complained on blogs and websites that the platform did not express their views and had been drafted in an undemocratic manner.
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As with many other key Brotherhood initiatives, this platform was by no means a truly consultative process that involved the movement’s own grass roots. Yet interestingly the Ikhwan decided to present the draft to leading Islamists around the world. It held a major meeting in London, to which some parts of the Arab media were invited. If it had been hoping for acclaim at having advanced in its thinking, it was very much mistaken. The draft drew intense and very public criticism from the London audience that included many influential figures from within the Islamist milieu. The two controversial elements in the platform were criticised heavily, leaving the Egyptians looking as though they were somehow still in the dark ages. Yet it was perhaps easier for Islamists in Europe to be critical of such reactionary stances and to present a more progressive outlook, as unlike the Egyptian Ikhwan they did not have any real constituencies to play to. Therefore this draft should not be considered as a retraction or regression on the part of the Egyptian Ikhwan. Rather it is another reflection of the fact that the Brotherhood has always comprised a diverse array of opinions and tendencies and whilst the reformist current may have had a high public profile in the last years of the Mubarak regime, its power within
the movement was always ring fenced by those of a higher standing within its leadership structures.

In fact, by 2010, the reformists found themselves more sidelined than ever after a crisis erupted among the upper echelons of the movement. The calamity was prompted when Mehdi Akef decided to bring Issam al-Ariyan into the Guidance Office to replace Mohamed Helal who died in September 2009. However, the Murshid met with stiff resistance from the Guidance Office, which rejected his attempt to bring new blood into the leadership body on the grounds that according to the movement’s bylaws, it was necessary to hold an election before a new member could be admitted. Akef was so furious at the refusal to comply with his request that he stormed out of the Guidance Office meeting and announced his resignation, telling the press, ‘I insisted on this issue [promotion of al-Ariyan] for two reasons. First, the interpretation and point of view of the general guide should be respected. Secondly, it is within my prerogative. However, they rejected it, and it is over.’
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Although Akef subsequently withdrew his resignation, he insisted on keeping to an earlier pledge to leave office when his term expired in January 2010.

Akef’s decision not to stay on sent the movement into somewhat of a disarray. It was the first time in the Brotherhood’s history that a Murshid had voluntarily stepped down rather than hung on until death. Furthermore, there was no obvious successor to Akef, who, for all that he may have faced criticism for his leadership style, had some degree of charisma and presence and was able somehow to act as a bridge between the competing factions within the movement. Akef was also almost the last of the historical generation, one of the Brotherhood ‘originals’, who had joined the movement when it was under the leadership of al-Banna.

Yet as the movement deliberated over who should take over, Mohamed Habib, seemed to believe that being the Deputy to the Supreme Guide meant that he would naturally step in to fill the top
post, especially after he took over many of Akef’s duties following the Murshid’s resignation announcement. However, Habib queered his pitch early on, as other members took umbrage at his rush to behave as if he were the next Supreme Guide before the succession had actually been agreed upon.
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Habib also made himself hugely unpopular by speaking candidly to the media about the movement’s internal wranglings, airing its dirty washing in public in an unprecedented way. Despite being warned not to talk to the press, Habib was particularly up front in some of his interviews about Akef’s failure to bring al-Ariyan into the Guidance Office, disclosing, for example, that not one member of the office had voted in favour of al-Ariyan’s being made a member. Habib also revealed that friction between the Murshid and the Guidance Office was a common occurrence.

In this way, Habib set himself on a collision course not only with Akef – who was already angry at his deputy’s voting against his wishes over al-Ariyan – but also with other senior members of the Brotherhood. One such member was the powerful Mahmoud Izzat, a conservative hardliner who as General Secretary of the Brotherhood’s Secretariat had been steadily increasing his grip on the movement and who disagreed with Habib’s slightly more open and pragmatic approach.
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Faced with such hostility there was no way that Habib was going to stand a chance of being the next Murshid. In any case, he was widely considered not to have the necessary gravitas or charisma to be able to lead not only the Egyptian Ikhwan, but to serve as spiritual reference to the entire Muslim Brotherhood movement.

Partly as a result of his rash actions, Habib not only lost out on the post of Murshid in January 2010, he also found himself excluded from the Brotherhood’s senior body when he failed to uphold his position in the Guidance Office in the elections held at the end of December 2009. Yet it wasn’t just Habib who lost out in the Guidance Office elections. Abdul Moneim Aboul Fotouh, the most prominent of all the movement’s reformist figures, also failed to be re-elected for another
term. Given Aboul Fotouh’s high public profile, his removal came as a major shock. Yet for all that Aboul Fotouh’s pronouncements about democracy and transformation might have been welcomed by parts of the international community, as well as some of the younger cadres of the Brotherhood, they were not going down so well with the more traditional elements of the movement. They certainly weren’t appreciated by Mahmoud Izzat and other senior traditionalists, who believed that Aboul Fotouh was promoting ideas that were contrary to the ideology and values of the movement.
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Perhaps more importantly, Aboul Fotouh was becoming too much of a personality in his own right and arguably the movement was finding it increasingly difficult to contain him within its tight organisational structures. In fact, according to some sources, Aboul Fotouh’s departure had been planned up to a year before the Guidance Office election.
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Yet Aboul Fotouh’s exit was a significant and symbolic blow for those Ikhwani with reformist aspirations. So too was the fact that the Guidance Office elections brought in a host of conservative figures, including Mahmoud Izzat, but also Mahmoud Ghozlan, Saad al-Husseini and Mohammed Badie, who dominated the leadership body. These traditionalists were of the opinion that the movement was best served by retracting somewhat from engagement in politics and focusing instead on its traditional activities such as proselyting and carrying out educational and social work. As such, these Guidance Office elections marked a watershed moment for the Brotherhood in so far as they consolidated the control of the conservative trend within the movement. Although somewhat ironically Issam al-Ariyan was elected to the leadership body, those of a reformist bent were largely wiped out of the picture.

The election of the new Murshid in January 2010 represented another triumph for the conservative trend. Three names from the Guidance Office were put into the hat for the poll: Mohammed Badie, Rashad al-Bayoumi and Giuma Amin. All three were conservatives
and as one analyst has aptly remarked, they were carbon copies of each other.
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However, Badie emerged triumphant, winning 66 out of 100 votes from the Shura Council, and took over as Murshid. Badie, who trained as a veterinary doctor and who, after working his way up the Brotherhood’s ranks was appointed to the Guidance Office in 1993, had been imprisoned in the 1960s alongside Sayyid Qutb. He is described by some as a Qutbist.
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Whether Badie would describe himself as such is doubtful. However, there is little doubting the new incumbent’s uncompromising views. In November 2009, for example, during an interview with
Al-Youm Al-Sabi’e
, Badie allegedly commented, ‘If the people choose something against the Sharia, it is not proper to implement it. If there is a conflict with the Sharia, it must not be put into force.’
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Thus, by the start of 2010 the conservatives within the Brotherhood had moved to reassert their dominance, clipping the reformists’ wings and shifting the focus of the movement back more to its traditional core values and principles. This did not prevent the Brotherhood from competing (as independents) in the first round of the 2010 parliamentary elections, despite calls from within its ranks to boycott the polls. In fact, in a bid to avoid such boycotts and to ensure its members turned out to support it, the Ikhwan issued a fatwa proclaiming that participation in the elections was a religious duty and that boycotting them was sinful. This fatwa was an unusual move on the part of the Brotherhood and reflected its growing unease at its own support base given the fact that it had been significantly damaged by the large numbers of arrests and increased repression it had suffered since its achievements in the 2005 elections.

The Brotherhood needn’t have bothered. As it turned out, the Mubarak regime was in no mood to compromise and was determined to send a clear message to the movement: its time in mainstream political life was at an end. The Brotherhood had an inkling that this was the case and had braced itself for a worse showing in the elections
than it had achieved in 2005 (when it won 88 seats).
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However, its members were stunned when all of its seats were completely wiped out in the first round. As a result, the Brotherhood, along with the other opposition force, the al-Wafd party, boycotted the second round of elections. If there was ever a reason for the conservative trend within the movement to stress that the Brotherhood should shift its attentions away from the political arena, this was surely it.

Yet the Brotherhood was soon to be overtaken by events. As popular protests broke out across the Arab world, the Brotherhood, much like the region as a whole, was shaken out of its inertia and forced to look beyond its internal crises and to decide upon what role it would play in the Arab Spring and in the new Egypt.

Of all the Brotherhood’s branches, the Syrian Ikhwan has perhaps the most controversial of histories. It is a history of extremes that has been characterised by violence and brutal oppression at the hands of the Syrian state and that has seen the movement go from being the most important Ikhwani branch after the Egyptians to little more than the shell of a leadership in exile. Plagued by internal division and bitter recriminations that have split the movement in two, the history of the Syrian Ikhwan is often written as the story of two competing wings – the Damascus wing known for its moderate outlook and the more militant action-oriented Aleppo wing. Whilst in reality the distinction between these two wings was never as clear-cut as is often made out, the factionalism and rivalry engendered by this division were enough to bring the movement almost to its knees. With so many challenges it is remarkable that the Syrian Ikhwan has been able to survive at all.