February 12, 2006
The World - NY Times Week in Review Feb 12, 2006
Beneath the Rage in the Mideast
By MICHAEL SLACKMAN

CAIRO

EGYPTIANS were hardly astonished when a ferry packed with more than 1,400 passengers sank in the Red Sea. Anyone who has struggled to navigate daily life here knows safety standards are virtually nonexistent, and the value of human life is often overlooked by a government widely considered to be driven by corruption and favoritism.

But the loss of the ferry, Al Salam, on Feb. 3, and the government's delayed and limited response to the emergency, have implications that extend beyond the scope of the disaster, and beyond the borders of Egypt.

The calamity speaks directly to the slow burn that consumes many Egyptians — and many other Arabs — who live under governments that rule with virtual impunity no matter how bumbling, incompetent or abusive they are. Similar frustrations, if over other issues, play out around the region, in places like Syria, Jordan, Yemen, and among the Palestinians.

It is difficult to draw an absolute link between the ferry disaster and the violence that exploded across much of the Muslim world last week in response to Danish cartoons that had lampooned the Prophet Muhammad. Many Muslims feel it was blasphemous to draw the Prophet at all, let alone in a mocking manner.

But in the coincidence of the two events, there is a clue to a dynamic that has played out in this region for many years: Leaders often call attention to external enemies — most often the Israelis — as a device to allow their own subjects to blow off steam. The anger itself is almost always home grown.

The crisis over the cartoons has often been portrayed as a clash in values between the Muslim and Western worlds, focusing on issues of free expression and respect for other cultures.

But that crisis and the ferry sinking also reflect another difference in perspective. While the West speaks of democracy and freedom, Muslims here tend to speak of justice. There is widespread feeling that the region's governments deny their people justice, and this feeling has been instrumental in the increased support for Islamists throughout the Middle East, whether the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt, or Hamas among the Palestinians.

"It has reached to the point where Egyptians do not feel entitled to anything, and all they want is justice," said Ibrahim Aslan, a leading Egyptian writer. "Across history, in literature, Egyptian peasants asked for justice, not for freedom or democracy. Just justice. Social justice."

Islamists promise not just piety, but an end to corruption and misrule. That challenge helps explain the eagerness of established governments to pursue the conflict over the Danish cartoons — to increase their own credibility on religious issues and resist the Islamists' rising popularity.

The sinking of the ferry is a case study of this dynamic. More than 1,000 people drowned. By Friday, more than 600 bodies had not been recovered. At least 1,000 people continued to stand vigil on the streets outside a hospital along the Red Sea.

It had taken more than seven hours to launch a rescue operation. Worried relatives had been greeted at the banks of the Red Sea by riot police who beat them back. For days, people sat on the street, under the sun, waiting for any information. And the state-run media tried to turn the whole matter into a public relations victory for President Hosni Mubarak.

"When Mubarak visited the survivors in Hurghada and decided to grant them 30,000 Egyptian pounds, every one in Egypt felt safe and appreciative of the patriarch of the Egyptian family who does not hesitate to present his condolences and help in such hard time," Samir Ragab, a friend of the president, wrote on Monday in El Gumhuria, an Egyptian newspaper.

If the scope of what happened was unusual, it may be the only thing that was. Pick a day. Pick a tragedy. Match the government's response.

A train loaded with poor Egyptians burned in 2002 on its way to Luxor, and an official said the driver unhitched the flaming cars and continued on his way, leaving behind hundreds to die. No high-ranking officials were ever charged.

A fire tore through a small theater last year, killing at least 30 people. The only emergency door had been bolted shut. The minister of culture offered his resignation, but the president did not accept it.

"These disasters continue to happen because this is a decaying state," said Hesham Kassem, a member of the board of the Egyptian Organization for Human Rights and deputy managing editor of the leading independent newspaper, El Masri El Youm. "The corrupt government officials control all sectors and are responsible for all disasters we face. But the government would not hold itself accountable."

So far, the general public has been largely quiet over the ferry disaster. Many Egyptians accept the inevitability of it as evidence that all events — good and bad — reflect God's will; many others are resigned based on experiences that taught them the government does not care.

"All this together," said Mr. Aslan, the writer, "creates this bewildered citizen who is addicted to sorrow and suffering."

But that does not preclude suppressed rage. Islamists, in effect, already preach an alternative to resignation, saying Islam should become the government. And anger among those directly affected can explode — as it did among relatives of the missing. After days of frustration, they burned down the shipping company's offices.

"The entire government is dysfunctional," complained Ahmed Abdel Rahim, whose brother was lost. "There is no government and there is no rescue. They are treating us like animals. And this is not the first time. There was the train, and another ship, and a plane. The rescue is a lie. We are sitting here — no tents, no water. They are giving the people the dirtiest treatment. What did we do wrong? And no money will compensate us. We don't want money. We want our relatives and we want a system!"

This overt expression of anger is what Middle East governments fear most, if it were ever to spread to the general public. To many analysts, it explains the effort to focus on objects of hatred abroad — usually Jews and Israel, most recently countries in Europe.

The ship sinking clearly involved neither of those adversaries, and Egypt's newspapers reported on it extensively, even if much of the coverage sought to keep blame away from the president. So a narrative emerged.

The ferry was overloaded when it left Saudi Arabia, full of mostly poor Egyptians who work there because no jobs exist at home. When smoke filled the ship, witnesses said they begged the captain to turn around. Reports said the captain in turn begged the ship's owners to let him. But the owner, reports said, told him to proceed.

A day after the accident, President Mubarak went to Hurghada, where the families were waiting. He spent a short time in the hospital. He pledged an investigation, and $5,000 each for families of the victims.

The promise of an investigation was met with cynicism — a product of past promises and of the appointment, by Mr. Mubarak himself, of the shipping company's owner to the upper house of parliament.

All week, newspapers covered the disaster. They reported the rioting in other countries about the Danish newspaper's cartoons, too. Egyptian diplomats, it has been widely reported, were heavily involved in bringing the controvery from Denmark to the Middle East.

In the end, though, another event competed for Egyptians' attention.

On Friday night, the president, his wife and Prime Minister Ahmed Nazif attended the Africa Cub soccer match, where Egypt's team defeated Ivory Coast in the finals — a gift to a nation that has been whipsawed, and a president looking for distraction.

Though the soccer match was peaceful, in a way it was perfectly cast as a diversion: an emotion-charged conflict with a foreign adversary.

Mona el-Naggar and Abeer Allam contributed reporting from Cairo for this article.