Into Egypt

THE World Economic Forum holds its Annual Meeting in Davos, high up in the Swiss Alps. That glamorous talkfest takes place in January. But every spring, the WEF comes to the Middle East, for a three-day conference focused exclusively on this crucial region. For the last three years, the conference has been held in Jordan, on the Dead Sea. But this year, the conference has come to Sharm El Sheikh, the famous Egyptian resort on the Red Sea. There is much discussion here about which site is preferable. I can’t help framing it this way: Better Dead than Red, or better Red than Dead? Egypt is proud to have snatched the conference away from the Jordanians (who, regardless, will get it again next year). And this is a critical period for Egypt. Almost every day, the country makes worldwide news, most of it bad: democrats jailed; judges threatened; protesters beaten up. And terror still strikes. In April, bombs went off in Dahab, just north of here. About 20 people were killed. And last summer, about 65 were killed in Sharm El Sheikh itself. In the last year and a half, some 120 people have lost their lives to terror in this Sinai region. But Klaus Schwab, founder and leader of the WEF, refused to cancel or move the conference. For him, he explained in a memo to participants, it was a matter of solidarity, defiance, and determination. If anyone was deterred from coming here, it doesn’t show: Attendance is robust and enthusiastic. And security is tight, not to say stifling. You can hardly turn around without being checked, whisked, or otherwise examined. Indeed, you can hardly turn around. We are in a mini-police state-but I imagine most people are reassured, even as they, as we, chafe. Egypt may be having problems on the political front, but they are making big strides on the economic front. And they’re happy to trumpet it. On the roads to Sharm El Sheikh’s Congress Center-specially built for this conference, in under eight months-are signs: “Egypt: Open for Business”; “Egypt: Open for Competition”; “Egypt: Open for Growth”; “Egypt: Open for Change.” These are not empty claims, for the facts back them up. Tariffs, taxes, and other barriers are falling; GDP is rising (by a projected 6 percent this year). Inflation has been subdued. Foreign investment is pouring in, and the Egyptians are asking for more. This burst of liberalization has been overseen by what the country’s publicists call a “dream team,” a “handful of reformist ministers.” They are led by the prime minister himself, Ahmed Nazif. He is the face of what you might call the New Egypt. Old Egypt, of course, is represented by Hosni Mubarak, president and boss of this country for 25 years now. He officially opens the conference, with a speech in Plenary Hall. Though nearing 80, he seems in blooming health, full of vigor. He looks like he could go on and on, through elections fair and foul. He also looks like a thug-unkind to say, but true. It’s not his fault if he looks like a thug; it’s his fault only if he acts like one. His speech to us is nothing much: full of platitudes, banalities, and little jabs at the United States. But he concludes with some nice poetry about the Sinai, and its importance to history: Moses and the Ten Commandments; Joseph and Mary’s flight with their baby; and so on.

Mubarak takes no questions; but Nazif certainly does, over breakfast with journalists. The prime minister is stubbornly optimistic about his country’s future. “There’s no turning back,” he says-no turning back from the reformist course that Egypt has set. “Some people are scared of change. But I’m not.” A full transformation will take time, to be sure. “But we have time. We’re not in a hurry.” For years, Egypt was “a closed environment,” but now it’s opening up. “We’re not used to it.” Habits of democracy will have to be developed. But they will be. Overall, Nazif’s message to this inky assemblage seems to be, Have a little patience, and a little perspective.

About the Author

Jay Nordlinger

Jay Nordlinger was a senior editor of National Review and a book fellow at National Review Institute.

Featured Tags

THE World Economic Forum holds its Annual Meeting in Davos, high up in the Swiss Alps. That glamorous talkfest takes place in January. But every spring, the WEF comes to the Middle East, for a three-day conference focused exclusively on this crucial region. For the last three years, the conference has been held in Jordan, on the Dead Sea. But this year, the conference has come to Sharm El Sheikh, the famous Egyptian resort on the Red Sea. There is much discussion here about which site is preferable. I can’t help framing it this way: Better Dead than Red, or better Red than Dead? Egypt is proud to have snatched the conference away from the Jordanians (who, regardless, will get it again next year). And this is a critical period for Egypt. Almost every day, the country makes worldwide news, most of it bad: democrats jailed; judges threatened; protesters beaten up. And terror still strikes. In April, bombs went off in Dahab, just north of here. About 20 people were killed. And last summer, about 65 were killed in Sharm El Sheikh itself. In the last year and a half, some 120 people have lost their lives to terror in this Sinai region. But Klaus Schwab, founder and leader of the WEF, refused to cancel or move the conference. For him, he explained in a memo to participants, it was a matter of solidarity, defiance, and determination. If anyone was deterred from coming here, it doesn’t show: Attendance is robust and enthusiastic. And security is tight, not to say stifling. You can hardly turn around without being checked, whisked, or otherwise examined. Indeed, you can hardly turn around. We are in a mini-police state-but I imagine most people are reassured, even as they, as we, chafe. Egypt may be having problems on the political front, but they are making big strides on the economic front. And they’re happy to trumpet it. On the roads to Sharm El Sheikh’s Congress Center-specially built for this conference, in under eight months-are signs: “Egypt: Open for Business”; “Egypt: Open for Competition”; “Egypt: Open for Growth”; “Egypt: Open for Change.” These are not empty claims, for the facts back them up. Tariffs, taxes, and other barriers are falling; GDP is rising (by a projected 6 percent this year). Inflation has been subdued. Foreign investment is pouring in, and the Egyptians are asking for more. This burst of liberalization has been overseen by what the country’s publicists call a “dream team,” a “handful of reformist ministers.” They are led by the prime minister himself, Ahmed Nazif. He is the face of what you might call the New Egypt. Old Egypt, of course, is represented by Hosni Mubarak, president and boss of this country for 25 years now. He officially opens the conference, with a speech in Plenary Hall. Though nearing 80, he seems in blooming health, full of vigor. He looks like he could go on and on, through elections fair and foul. He also looks like a thug-unkind to say, but true. It’s not his fault if he looks like a thug; it’s his fault only if he acts like one. His speech to us is nothing much: full of platitudes, banalities, and little jabs at the United States. But he concludes with some nice poetry about the Sinai, and its importance to history: Moses and the Ten Commandments; Joseph and Mary’s flight with their baby; and so on.

Mubarak takes no questions; but Nazif certainly does, over breakfast with journalists. The prime minister is stubbornly optimistic about his country’s future. “There’s no turning back,” he says-no turning back from the reformist course that Egypt has set. “Some people are scared of change. But I’m not.” A full transformation will take time, to be sure. “But we have time. We’re not in a hurry.” For years, Egypt was “a closed environment,” but now it’s opening up. “We’re not used to it.” Habits of democracy will have to be developed. But they will be. Overall, Nazif’s message to this inky assemblage seems to be, Have a little patience, and a little perspective.