Where are the Egyptian people amid what’s happening in Gaza?

Before the events of 7 October, many wondered how a people like the Egyptians could remain silent in the face of humiliation and the squandering of their nation’s wealth. But since the launch of Operation Al-Aqsa Flood, the question has shifted — now people are asking: where are the Egyptians as Gaza burns under fire?

Observers of the Gaza crisis were left astounded, anticipating a strong Egyptian response to the unfolding tragedy. Instead, they were met with a series of disappointing reactions from the regime: an apparent inability to deliver aid into the Strip; silence over Israel’s violation of the Camp David Accords through its occupation of the Philadelphi Corridor and bombardment of the Rafah crossing; increased trade with Israel; the obstruction of aid and solidarity convoys; the signing of a long-term gas import deal; and the suppression of any public or individual expression of solidarity with Palestine.

Supporters of the resistance were stunned. They had expected exceptional action from a regime that had overthrown its elected president, ceded parts of its land and wealth, killed its own people, sought help from their enemies, fractured its society, and flooded the tunnels that once linked it to its brothers in Gaza. What left them even more bewildered was the regime’s attempt to portray itself as a tireless mediator pushing for a ceasefire and sending aid to the afflicted. How could that be?

Egypt’s response to recent developments appears deeply contradictory, shaped by its subservience to powerful Western capitalist interests. Back in 2013, the Egyptian regime aligned itself with the Anglo-American capitalist bloc that had helped engineer the coup. In return, it was expected to repay that support by backing the occupying power, regardless of Netanyahu’s reckless impulses.

The Egyptian military regime has handed the country over to capitalist interests on a silver platter, particularly in the security sphere. The Communications Interoperability and Security Memorandum of Agreement (CISMOA), which the Mubarak government rejected until the revolution but which El-Sisi signed in 2018, effectively redefined the doctrine of the Egyptian army and laid the foundations for a US capitalist base encompassing the entire nation.

The agreement stipulates that military communication systems between the signatory state and U.S. forces be made interoperable, granting American troops extensive access to military bases, airports, and ports, as well as the right to inspect military equipment. In return, the signatory state receives limited access to select advanced US technologies.

CISMOA effectively turns Egypt’s army into a subordinate division of the US military, aligning it with allied states seeking to redefine modern warfare — shifting from conflicts between conventional armies to cross-border operations executed through interconnected networks of global allied forces. For this reason, the Egyptian regime cannot take any stance against Israel without prior approval from the agreement’s signatories.

Following CISMOA, American capital sought to dismantle the Camp David Accords and phase out the accompanying military aid by orchestrating limited provocations through Netanyahu’s actions — calculated to make the Egyptian army appear responsible for breaching the treaty’s terms. This would allow Washington to rid itself of the burden of that aid entirely.

At the same time, the Anglo-American capitalist bloc requires the Egyptian regime to safeguard its interests from the boundless ambitions of Zionist capital. It achieves this by allowing French-aligned Egyptian capitalists to oppose the displacement of Palestinians — ensuring that the core of the conflict remains contained and the battlefield does not expand — while turning a blind eye to the Egyptian military’s activities in Sinai.

But where are the Egyptian people? Why don’t the country’s hundred million citizens rise up?

First: the ruling military regime was chosen precisely for its belief that the religious outlook of Egypt’s Muslim population must be reshaped — so that what was once forbidden becomes open to debate and reinterpretation, and every act of religious devotion can be branded as extremism. Because religion remains the ultimate point of reference for most Egyptians, any public mobilisation in support of an Islamic cause such as Palestine is destined to fail.

Second: over the years of its rule, the regime has built a shadow state operating parallel to the official one. For every government institution, a military-controlled counterpart has been established — and where none exists, ultimate authority still rests with the armed forces until the parallel structure is fully consolidated.

Third: alongside the military and police apparatus — and the legitimisation of a private security company used for intimidation — the regime has also enlisted Bedouin tribes, arming and empowering loyal groups to tighten its grip on society and instil fear among the population. A vast nation, after all, requires a vast army to control it.

Fourth: the regime has established checkpoints at the entrances to every governorate and carved new roads through the hearts of old neighbourhoods, enabling rapid troop deployment and restricting citizens’ movement from one area to another in the event of unrest.

Fifth: ordinary citizens cannot enter Sinai without passing through a multitude of armed checkpoints — perhaps more than even a tourist arriving from the enemy state would face.

Sixth: the regime carries out systematic enforced disappearances — around a hundred people across the country vanish every day. Their families hear nothing for forty days, after which the victims reappear at State Security headquarters, charged with fabricated political crimes. Then come interrogations and, if released or acquitted, they are often detained again under new charges.

Egyptians today live in a vast, open prison under the shadow of arms. They know their army’s doctrine has shifted from protection to repression; that its weapons are aimed at their own heads rather than the enemy; that the leaders they once trusted are behind bars; that what remains of the political opposition outside prison are paper heroes; and that any ill-judged mobilisation could lead to the partition of Egypt — an outcome neighbouring states could never absorb.

Egyptians know their regime is driving the train toward the abyss. They have only two options: overturn the train, or wait for its inevitable crash. The result, either way, is the same.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.