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Egypt Shuts Door on Dissent As U.S. Officials Back Away
A supporter of Egypt's Muslim Brotherhood, foreground, challenges government supporters during a clash near Cairo in 2005. The country's democracy movement has withered under repression by a government that remains a key U.S. ally.
(Photos By Amr Nabil -- Associated Press)
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At almost every turn in the movement's evolution, U.S. policy was a story of unintended consequences. Rather than inspiring change, the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq prompted people to pour into the streets in paroxysms of anti-American resentment. Rice's statements, while welcomed in some quarters, suggested to many a teacher scolding a pupil, another humiliating image for a country seized by perceptions of its own weakness and what many view as Egypt's slavish obedience to U.S. policy. "Give Mubarak a visa and take him with you, Condoleezza!" protesters shouted.
"The Arab spring is happening because of Bush's policies," Alaa Seif, a young blogger, said at the time, a cup of coffee next to his computer. "But it's not the way they think about it. It's the other way around. They did mobilize people, and they still are."
A Show of Raw Power
In the fall of 2005, as the novelty of Kifaya's anti-Mubarak protests faded, Egypt entered a season of elections that Rice had called a barometer of official intentions. Mohammed Kamal was one of the government's point men.
A tall, affable political science professor at Cairo University, Kamal always seemed a little out of place in the drab, politburo-style politics of the ruling National Democratic Party. Some party leaders were known to quip: "Why reform? We're already in power." Kamal, 41, lived for five years near Dupont Circle in Washington, earned his doctorate at Johns Hopkins University and worked as a congressional fellow. And in a series of votes in Egypt -- for president in September, then for parliament -- he and younger officials grouped around Mubarak's son wanted to make their mark. They envisioned a face-lift for the party as it ran a modern campaign.
That aspiration was on display in November and December, as Egyptians began voting in three rounds for the new parliament. Under a white tent the size of a soccer field, 350 youths worked dozens of phones atop 30 tables, each with a computer. Orders over loudspeakers and clocks on the wall paced their efforts. Kamal and other senior staff, in sharp suits and ties, sat at tables in front, monitoring 11 television screens. They spoke in consultants' language, deploying polling, focus groups, television advertising and slogans of reform, change and the promise of jobs.
On a blue banner behind them was the campaign's motto: "Crossing to the future."
But as results came in around midnight, in a din of ringing phones, they crossed into a different future than the one they had in mind. Candidates affiliated with the Muslim Brotherhood were winning most of the races in which they had run. There was anger in the room, tinged with shock. Party officials didn't even recognize some of the names of Brotherhood candidates capturing their seats.
"I was just surprised," Kamal said, shaking his head in disbelief. "We were all surprised by these results."
In the second round, the government's security forces stepped in with a show of raw power so brazen that officials, speaking privately, don't even deny the tampering. Paramilitary men clad in black, with truncheons and helmets, blocked people from voting. Elsewhere, with method that suggested specific orders, hired thugs wielding machetes and knives chased voters away from polling stations as police idly watched.
When crowds grew angry, security forces responded with tear gas, rubber bullets and live ammunition. In video footage shot by election monitors, protesters clutched onions, hoping to fend off the searing fumes of the gas. "Give us our rights!" they are heard shouting.
"I haven't been to Gaza, but it looked like the intifada," said Ghada Shahbendar, 44, a mother of four who had founded one of the leading monitoring groups, Shayfeencom, or "We Are Watching You."
When the elections ended Dec. 7, the Brotherhood had won 88 seats, five times the 17 seats they won in the 2000 elections, but still just a fraction of the 454-member parliament. Independent monitors complained of "a systematic and planned campaign" to block opposition voters from casting ballots. Fourteen people were killed, and hundreds of Brotherhood supporters were arrested.





