In 2001, there
was a break room for electrical workers in one of the branches of the company
Misr Helwan for Spinning and Weaving, at a distant edge of the factory complex,
containing three desks, two lockers, a small stove for tea, and two photographs:
one of the late President Nasser, hung above the desk, dominating the room, and
the second of the late President Sadat, hanging on one of the locker doors.
Photographs of
the two late presidents were not displayed in the offices of senior officials of
the company, nor were they displayed in those offices at other companies at the
time, where one could find only photographs of Mubarak. Photos of the late
presidents were displayed only in the offices of workers and low staff, and in
the simple reception rooms of Egyptian homes. In the conscience of the Egyptian
people, Nasser and Sadat were more than presidents. They were fathers to the
people, whom their children regarded as ideal. Egyptians hung their photos on
the walls of their homes, next to family photos, wedding photos and photos of their
children. When Nasser wore a short-sleeved suit, it became like a uniform for Egyptians;
when Sadat wore an ‘abayya in Mit
Abou el-Kom, Egyptians wore it, too. Years later, when the words ‘Papa Mubarak’
and ‘Mama Suzanne’ appeared, people changed the way that they posed in
photographs, clasping their hands below their waist, as Mubarak did.
Egyptians were
dealing with their presidents as parents of the people, those who know the way
and lead the big ship carrying the family to safety, up until the January 25th
revolution that tried ‘Papa Mubarak,’ put him in jail, and hung another picture
of a new president. This one was chosen by election, through ballot boxes and rallies,
and constrained to only two terms in office. The image reflected by the debate
between presidential candidates is the first of its kind in the Arab world, in
which candidates compete to gain the approval of voters, not sons, who sit in
their homes watching the game and deciding, on their own, who wins. Thus, the image
of the ‘Father President’ leaves the presidential palace, and the image of the ‘Presidential
Employee’ enters.
Tariq Ahmed, 53, a
street vendor from Hadayek el-Kobba, believes that the new president will not
be a father except to “his own kids,” and that people’s perception of the ruler
changed after the revolution, especially with the public trial of Mubarak. He
believes that the way Egyptians dealt with Nasser as a father was normal. “We
are an emotional people, and Abdel Nasser dealt with people through his emotions,”
Ahmed says. Egyptians saw Nasser with “a reverence and appreciation fitting to
his status and style of work, while Sadat, modest without the presidential
arrogance, looked like some one from the countryside, so people liked and imitated
him,” Ahmed adds.
Egyptians’ love of
Nasser did not stop at pictures and busts of him found in their homes, but
extended to include giving his name, and the name of his eldest son Khalid, to their
children. The Egyptian habit is to name first-born children after their grandfather
or their oldest uncle. Whole generations appeared with the names Gamal, Nasser,
and Khalid, who lived and imbibed the songs of the revolution, of which Nasser’s
name was a cornerstone.
Abdul Fattah
Mahmoud Ahmed, 58, originally from Aswan and working as a doorman in Cairo, explains
the people’s love of Nasser by saying that he worked hard as a father. “The guy
was from us and took care of us until he died. Even his wife did not have anything
to do with ruling the country,” Ahmed says.
This
rapprochement between Nasser and Egyptians who saw him as their father, is
explained by Hussein Mohamed Ibrahim, 30, a barber from Mariatia. “When my
father and his generation were young, Nasser opened industrial schools, gave
them certificates, and hired them in factories he built. So, for them, he was
like a father who educated his sons and gave them work. When Sadat became
president, he also did a few things like that, and he had some photos taken
while wearing ‘abayya on farms and
with people, so people saw him as a father. Especially because a lot of people
made a lot of money when he was President,” Ibrahim adds.
Nasser's funeral
was an exceptional event in which millions of Egyptians took to the streets
crying, screaming, and even taking their lives in grief for a father who left
them. Women tore open their clothing, despite the customary taboo.
Asser Mustafa
Ahmed, 21, a student of engineering at Ain Shams University, sees that many of
the older generation dealt with the president as a father. “My grandparents revered
Nasser more than their own parents, but my mother and father’s generation, born
in the fifties, doesn’t share that attitude as much, especially since they lived
in the era of Sadat which they call poor,” he says. Asser believes that the
idea of the ‘Father President’ “is a farce, whose aim is ignorance. Limiting
the duration of the presidency to two terms will diminish the idea of the
‘Father President’ because he won’t have enough time to construct that image.”
This article originally appeared in AlMasry AlYoum on 7 March 2013.