Shifting Sands

Amira Nowaira writes:

Almost six decades after the 1952 revolution, which ousted King Farouk from power and sent him into exile in Italy, Egypt finds itself in the absurd position of having no clear successor to its president, Hosni Mubarak. As speculations proliferate concerning who will succeed the ailing president, the royal family is back on the scene, with the blessings and support of the state. It may not be far-fetched to suggest then that the recent popularity of the House of Mohammed Ali is being used to lend credibility to the idea that the hereditary system, despite its acknowledged defects, can't be too bad after all.

In the 1950s and 1960s, the newly established regime spared no effort to control Egypt's memory of its pre-revolutionary past. Fearing, perhaps, that the old regime might rise from the ashes to wreak vengeance on them, the new rulers embarked on a systematic erasure or distortion of that period's history with an enviable steadiness of purpose. School textbooks discredited the ancien regime and represented it as corrupt and morally degraded. The media competed in exposing and deploring the ex-king's gambling and womanising habits. It was politically incorrect to praise Farouk or any aspect of his regime.

But the past decade has witnessed a sea change in the state's attitude towards the old monarchy, allowing a revision and reevaluation of Egypt's monarchic history and the cultural legacy of that era. Numerous projects with this objective in mind have been encouraged or sponsored by the state. One such project that aims to preserve and document royal palaces, including among many Abdeen and Al Tahra, is now being undertaken by CultNat, the Centre for the Documentation of the Cultural and Natural Heritage.

Drama has not lagged behind, either. Capitalising on the resurgent interest in the royal family, a television drama series entitled King Farouk was produced and shown in 2007 to great acclaim. The series contributed significantly in transforming the image of Farouk and his regime. It presented the ineffectual, fun-loving monarch as a figure to sympathise with rather than condemn.

Totally unprepared at the age of 17 for the responsibilities of reigning monarch, he faced enormous difficulties. More significant, however, was the portrayal of Egypt's parliamentary system and democratic institutions during Farouk's reign as vibrant and powerful, though admittedly far from perfect. Had this democratic experiment not been nipped in the bud by the revolutionary overturn, the series suggested, it might have served as the foundation of a nascent but credible democratic system.

Members of the royal family have also become increasingly visible in the Egyptian media. The visit by Farouk's son, Prince Ahmed Fouad, to Egypt in April 2010 was a high-profile affair. Interviews with him were aired and widely publicised, as were earlier interviews with other royal figures. Books by and about the royal family have become hugely popular. In May 2010 the Bibliotheca Alexandrina held a book launch of Princess Nevine Abbas Halim's memoir, Diaries of an Egyptian Princess, with the princess herself reading extracts from it.

The book, like the drama series, goes a long way in countering the image of the royal family as frivolous and corrupt. It presents the princess's father, Abbas Halim, the great-grandson of Mohamed Ali Pasha, as a man who championed the cause of the poor and organised a Labour movement. The princess mentions the open letter addressed to King Fouad that her father wrote and published in newspapers in 1934. In it he warned the king that if he were not careful, "blood would run in the streets". After the success of the labour strike he helped organise, he was stripped of his title and sent to jail on the orders of the king who could not tolerate opposition, least of all from his own family.

The growing popular interest in the royal family is understandable in view of the prevalent sense of discontent in the country at the moment. The 1952 revolution promised a more equitable society based on a fair distribution of wealth, but has not delivered on its promises. The frightening chasm between the obscenely rich and the abjectly poor is not showing any signs of narrowing. Moreover, unashamed displays of wealth have become the defining feature of the newly rich. In contrast, the royal family seems to exude a sense of decency and refinement that is now lost forever.

But the state's tacit encouragement of royal nostalgia raises questions and invites speculations. It is a fact that the royal family isn't, and can't be, a political player on Egypt's current political scene. Most surviving royal personalities are too old to play any political role. Many of them, including Prince Ahmed Fouad, who was brought up in exile in Europe, also speak very little Arabic. The state may have decided that their presence on the scene can't pose any real threat to its existence. Other figures including high-profile figures such as ElBaradei, who are calling for political reform and the institution of a more viable democratic system, certainly represent a far greater challenge because they can simply command popular support.

At this sensitive juncture in Egypt's political life when the vexed question of political succession hangs ominously in the air, the royal family – once demonised and denigrated – has now been given a new lease of public life. It is possible that their presence is used to promote the hereditary model and make it seem attractive and viable. If such a system once gave Egypt stability and the foundations of a democratic life, as well as a great deal of charm to boot, it could do it once again. It's ironic that Egypt, which overthrew the king in favour of a republican system, should find itself again considering the pluses of hereditary systems while casting nostalgic glances at the bright faces of the royal family. For Egyptians, it seems, the end of all their exploring was in fact to arrive where they started and "know the place for the first time".

Like the Libyan monarchy overthrown by the ageing and ailing Gaddafi, the Egyptian monarchy overthrown by Nasser was not merely a British ally, although it was certainly a staunch one, but a British creation; the Libyan one even backed us over Suez. Mubarak and Gaddafi are both on the way out, feet first. We need to exert some influence, in order to regain a great deal more, not least in the cause of the Copts and other Christians.

And if we had an historic responsibility to take in the East African Asians, then we have an historic responsibility to take in the Palestinian Christians. Distinct and easily identifiable for judicial and other purposes, would we ever actually need to take them in, if they had all been issued with British passports? Not that it would be any bad thing for our own society and culture if we did.