Several issues which recently surfaced on the public arena and preoccupied the media had one factor in common, that was the dual dealing and double standards. It worries me that we appear to be either severely lacking in vision or experts at fooling ourselves. Our responses and reactions to similar—sometimes identical—situations vary according to our whims. We appear to find it perfectly right to adopt stances dictated by our sentiments without pausing for a moment to consider the matter were the roles to be reversed.
A prime example is the allocation of a quota for women in Parliament. Granted, Egypt—on the communal and political levels—suffers considerable unbalance where women’s rights are concerned. Our society perfectly accommodates girls and women in schools, universities, and the workforce. But there the equality with males ends. Once the matter concerns political or leadership roles, opportunities open to males largely dwarf those of females. This flagrant inequality bred a general consensus on the dire need for some surgical corrective action. Surgical correction is, by definition, temporary action that is taken to treat an ailment. It goes without saying that, once the ailment is cured, the action is discontinued. It is ethically unacceptable to refrain from treating the ailment or to administer the treatment selectively to a sector of patients to the exclusion of another.
I am unequivocally for the constitutional amendment that allocates 64 parliamentary seats to women for two consecutive rounds. In fact, I would have liked the allocation to extend for more rounds, since we are not merely attempting to correct the proportion of women representation, but are correcting the cultural perspective of the masculine-oriented Egyptian society. Since this is a long-term process, I believe that a short-term approach is futile; more like a temporary measure which, once removed, loses all effectiveness.
It was an auspicious achievement to enact a distinct policy geared towards the empowerment of women. It is also rational, self-evident, and natural that the issue of empowerment should call to mind another sector of Egyptians desperately in need of empowerment, and that is the Copts. Copts have for some four decades now—since the first return of political pluralism following the 1952 Revolution—suffered marginalistion and exclusion from being fielded by parties in elections on the pretext that they stood minimal chance of winning. Political analysts have in fact always put women and Copts in the same basket, claiming they shared a common destiny; throughout history Egypt was, statistically, at its best when both Copts and women flourished, and declined when both did.
Huge controversy arose when it was suggested that Copts were entitled to a quota in Parliament similar to that of women. Suddenly, it transpired that the quota granted to empowerment-needy sectors was subject to exactly which sector one was talking about. In case of women the ‘quota’ was perfectly welcome and was immediately entered into the relevant political diction. In case of Copts, however, ‘quota’ became synonymous with national disgrace; it became an unspeakable indignity and an insult to citizenship rights and equality, and a discomfort to those patriotic Copts who rejected it in 1923 at the peak of the liberal movement.
The patriotic preaching that has inundated the media advocating a quota for women and denying one for Copts has discounted our intelligence and exposed a flagrant, rampant condition of dual dealing and double standards. The word ‘Copts’ has just to substitute ‘women’ for one to realise the level of double standards applied to the same issue. Obviously, while there was a political will to empower women there was none to empower Copts. The quota, which was a virtue in case of women, was a sin in case of Copts.
If numbers are any guide, it would help to recall that, in the 10 Egyptian parliaments before 1950, Coptic representation amounted to some 27 out of a total of 264 seats. In 2005 only one Copt made it to Parliament through the ballot box and three others were appointed by the President, out of a total 454 seats. What more proof of the severe decline in Coptic representation? Yet there are those who insist on recalling that Copts rejected a parliamentary quota in 1923, conveniently forgetting that Copts never needed a quota then, in the prime liberal era.
Sadly, this is not the only case of dual dealing on the Egyptian arena.