Photography: Haidar Kandil · Design: Aya Saber · Video editing: Khaled Abdallah
Hamdeen Sabahy has been active in Egyptian politics since the 1970s. He was among the leading figures in Tahrir Square during the January 2011 uprising, before political differences divided its participants. He twice ran for president: in 2012 he emerged as a prominent candidate associated with the revolution; in 2014 he received fewer votes than the number of invalid ballots.
In this interview with Zawia3, Sabahy revisits the mistakes that, in his view, prevented January’s uprising from becoming a completed revolution. He sets out a path away from what he calls Egypt’s political desertification, warns of a dangerous social explosion and explains how his support for the Syrian uprising developed into a visit to Bashar Al-Assad.
There has been discussion of three parties—the Reform and Development Party, the Justice Party and the Egyptian Social Democratic Party—joining pro-government lists in the coming parliamentary elections. The latter’s leaders denied making statements about the elections. Could such lists give the opposition a place in the next parliament?
No. That is a solution for the authorities, not for the opposition. It removes one of the opposition’s essential conditions: independence from the authorities and the ability to represent the people. Joining lists led by pro-government parties such as Mostaqbal Watan, or lists managed by or under the supervision of state agencies, negates that independence.
A subordinate opposition is not an opposition. I have friends in those parties whom I respect personally, and I understand the positions with which I disagree. They know my view, publicly and privately. But I consider their position mistaken and damaging to them, although they are free to choose it.
They lose their character as opposition forces and become closer to a wing within the authorities, just as they become part of a Mostaqbal Watan list. In my view, this undermines the constitutional basis of party pluralism. Instead of genuine competition, one side dominates and a nominal opposition supplies a false legitimacy for exclusive control.
It will not solve the authorities’ crisis. It will weaken the opposition and deepen public distrust of the authorities’ intentions to improve the country. Continuing in this direction invites further crisis.
You say the authorities lack a political representative or political structure of their own. How does that fit with the number of parties supporting them?
The authorities have no official party, but most parties in the political arena are loyal to them. They line up behind the authorities and act as instructed. Through the security agencies, the authorities manage numerous parties, finance them, provide impressive headquarters and choose their parliamentary candidates. These parties are instruments in their hands.
They do not need a single official party when they can manage all these parties, and create new ones to strengthen their control. At the centre is one authority directing political life through a single view and administration.
Opposition parties, including those in the Civil Democratic Movement, are denied comparable support, confined to their offices and pursued for their positions. Parliamentary representation is withheld unless they enter the authorities’ house of obedience, with security agencies choosing who may enter parliament.
This is a continuation of the policy of draining political life, and it explains the desertification we see. It is dangerous for the whole country, including the authorities. We need a substantial opening of public life that lifts the security grip. I believe the authorities would gain, not lose, from that.
The National Dialogue began with the Egyptian Family Iftar. Why did you attend, and how do you assess the dialogue?
I attended because I thought there might be a chance to free prisoners of conscience who deserved their liberty, open up political life and secure a peaceful, democratic route to change. I had no guarantees. But from the moment I shook President Sisi’s hand at that iftar, requests for prisoners’ release began receiving a response and people were freed in succession. That positive outcome deserves recognition.
The president called for a National Dialogue on the principle that disagreement does not deprive anyone of their patriotism. We participated sincerely and with conviction, had representatives on all its committees and submitted our proposals, which were published in a book.
But the dialogue stalled after the presidential election. The Civil Democratic Movement declined to join its second round because the first round’s decisions and recommendations had not been implemented. We set three main conditions for returning: release prisoners of conscience; legislate to prevent pretrial detention being used as punishment; and introduce electoral laws guaranteeing fair competition and participation, including proportional representation.
Those conditions have not been met. The movement remains outside the dialogue, but if they are fulfilled, it will be ready to discuss returning.
Could a unified Civil Democratic Movement list compete against political money and large-scale mobilisation?
Of course. If the movement represents Egypt’s broader democratic civilian current, rather than only its own members, it can become a serious competitor and win public confidence.
Three conditions are essential. First, prisoners of conscience must be released: genuine democratic elections cannot coexist with the imprisonment of people merely for expressing an opinion. Second, election laws must allow real competition, with a substantial proportion of seats elected through proportional lists rather than winner-takes-all lists.
Third, the electoral environment must provide a reasonable, even if incomplete, degree of freedom from security agencies and government control. In those circumstances, political money can be challenged by the public, not just the movement. Egyptians are too intelligent to be bought. They may accept money or assistance, but ultimately vote for people they trust to represent and defend them.
If those conditions are reasonably available, the Civil Democratic Movement can become the most significant force in the elections. But the authorities appear inclined to retain absolute lists or individual-seat contests rather than fulfil promises of proportional representation.
If that happens, the movement may seriously consider a boycott. It could also discuss freezing its parties’ activities in protest at the refusal to open a safe, peaceful electoral route to change. Alternatively, it might contest a limited number of individual seats or support particular candidates.
The point is not merely to win seats. The elections are an opportunity to restore hope in peaceful change and a better future. Losing that opportunity would deepen Egypt’s crisis; using it properly could begin to give people a genuine choice of parliamentary representatives.
You have acknowledged mistakes over the 2013 mandate and the dispersal of the Rabaa sit-in. What prevented you from expressing your position at the time?
I did state a position on Rabaa’s dispersal, but I was wrong not to express sufficiently my pain at the Egyptian blood shed in that way. Rabaa was, and will remain, a burden on Egypt’s conscience: it was an exceptionally painful event with an immense impact.
I did not express myself then as I do now because I believed Egypt faced a still wider explosion. What we deplored in Rabaa’s dispersal could, I feared, have become even more painful. I therefore considered stability important at that critical moment.
I decided that a minimum expression of my position would spare me the crime of silence, while avoiding its strongest expression might prevent me from contributing to further fires already burning in the country. That was my judgement then.
As for the mandate, I neither participated in it nor called for it. It may have been the only major public gathering in Egypt I did not join since my student years in the 1970s. But I criticise myself for not taking a clear stand against it.
The problem with the mandate was that it marked the beginning of a reversal of 30 June. In essence, 30 June continued 25 January, but the mandate deprived the crowds of both revolutions of their ability to shape the future.
Under pressure from fear, violence and bloodshed, leadership shifted from the civilian forces present in January and June to a military leadership. Refusing the mandate might not have changed the course of events, given the scale of that moment, but its eventual consequence was to exclude the civilian component after 3 July and allow the military component to monopolise authority and decision-making.
There is recurring talk of reconciliation with the Muslim Brotherhood. Is it possible?
I do not see it as possible at the present moment. But the discussion must be much broader than reconciliation with one group. Egypt needs reconciliation with all its people, beginning with political prisoners, many of whom are not Brotherhood members and are imprisoned simply for expressing opinions.
It also needs reconciliation with its poor, who form the majority and struggle with continually rising prices, and with social groups denied a fair share of wealth or participation through genuine elections.
That is the context in which the Brotherhood question belongs. I oppose reconciliation with no one, including the Brotherhood. Good judgement requires serious consideration of the widest possible reconciliation, including the Brotherhood and other opponents abroad.
There is no need to preserve this degree of mutual hostility, which is costly for Egypt. Reconciliation is the right choice, but it needs a comprehensive framework and clear priorities. Reconciliation with the Brotherhood should not take precedence over other, more pressing reconciliations. I fully support the general direction.
You ran for president twice and have said revolutionary forces should have united behind one candidate. Was an agreement possible?
Yes. The efforts to agree on one candidate for the revolution were serious, but failed. Knowing what I know today, I would have brought the candidates together and said I was willing to stand aside for anyone they agreed on. That would have been better for Egypt.
We lost a rare historical moment, one that comes perhaps once in several decades, if at all. The ballot results show that candidates of the revolution together received more than half the votes. Had we agreed on one candidate, I believe that person could have won 60% and changed the way we speak about the revolution today.
It would not have stopped at an uprising; it would have reached power and changed Egypt’s fate. We made a grave mistake, and it pains me that I shared in it.
I did not see that choice as the right one then. It was difficult, especially when assessments suggested I had the strongest chances, which the results confirmed. But recognising that strength should have led me to take the other path: any revolutionary candidate could have ensured continuity and a dignified life for Egyptians.
Why do you now consider your decision to run in 2014 a mistake?
The public mood told me Egyptians were not with me at that moment. I understood that clearly and told everyone. I have long experience of elections, beginning at school. Rarely have I stood simply because I wanted to: usually people around me believed I was ready, gave me their confidence and encouraged me. That was not the case then.
You understand people through silence, a look or the pressure of a handshake, not only through words. I knew people loved me in 2014, but did not want me to run.
They felt the political struggle required someone from the army, with its capabilities, to stabilise a threatened country. When a country is frightened, people in many societies turn towards those carrying weapons rather than ideas. Egyptians were not an exception.
People rallied around Sisi, believing he could protect the country from a dangerous path that an intense campaign had taught them to fear. I therefore thought the timing wrong, and that remains my assessment.
After the result, I recognised the mistake and take responsibility for it. Many young people whom I love and respect insisted I should run and had a coherent, persuasive argument. We debated it, and the Popular Current’s board of trustees voted clearly in favour of my candidacy. I respected that decision, but the outcome demonstrated the error.
My own community in Baltim, in Kafr El-Sheikh, was a clear indication. I know them well, and they did not want me to stand. They represented a sample of the wider public, and I should have listened even where their wishes were unspoken.
I lost the public mood by running, then lost young people’s support over my position on extending voting to a third day. I regard 2014 as a compound loss. Yet I deeply value those who fought that campaign: they were exceptionally steadfast, principled and aware.
The decisive consideration when making such a choice is the public mood, not the opinion of the elite.
Would you run for president again?
I do not think so. Egypt should have a candidate representing bread, freedom and social justice, and the spirit of 25 January and 30 June. If minimum conditions for competition become available, the demand for change in people’s interests must have a representative.
But that candidate will not be Hamdeen Sabahy. We need someone who carries the idea, has perhaps made fewer mistakes than I have and can learn more effectively. Above all, the candidate should be young enough to bear the burden.
How do you assess the Egyptian authorities’ response to the war in Gaza?
The conduct of the Egyptian authorities and the official Arab order generally was humiliating for themselves and their nation throughout those 15 months, which represented one of the most remarkable rounds in the Arab struggle against the Zionist enemy.
Through incapacity or complicity, the official Arab order let people down. It was the weak point, while the public from the Atlantic to the Gulf and the Palestinian resistance were sources of strength.
Egypt remains the largest and historically most important part of that order, although its role has declined since Camp David and over the following four decades. Growing debt has constrained it. Even so, its historical, geographical and demographic weight remains unmatched in the Arab world.
Despite that overall failure, Egypt deserves credit for firmly rejecting displacement from the outset. That position has become especially important with the Gaza ceasefire and President Donald Trump’s calls to empty Gaza of its people.
We should build on Egypt’s rejection. This could be an opportunity for the official Arab order to make amends, provided it maintains an uncompromising position against displacement and the liquidation of the Palestinian cause in the face of Trump’s support for Israel.
What do you think of calls for national alignment?
I fully support a serious, inclusive Egyptian national position. It should involve everyone, particularly the opposition, strengthening the authorities’ stated rejection of forced or voluntary displacement and the liquidation of the Palestinian cause.
But I prefer “national unity” or an “inclusive national position” to “alignment”. The latter sounds as if the authorities are summoning the people. I believe the people took the position first and the authorities joined them, not the reverse.
We need a common position against threats to Egypt’s security and the designs against Palestine, which is and will remain part of us. We also need a united Arab position, with governments standing together against the American-Israeli plan and giving their peoples room to express the solidarity they have already demonstrated.
This is a defining moment in Arab history and a crucial one for Egypt. Protecting its interests and restoring its role require genuine unity, which opponents should uphold no less than supporters of the authorities.
In “My Share of the Mistakes”, why did you choose this moment to revisit the revolution’s errors?
Discussing them is legitimate at any time. I wrote that text years ago and published it when a suitable opportunity arose. But an event as great as 25 January needs a collective review, particularly by people who participated, rather than individual reflection alone.
January was our people’s finest collective achievement. It opened the door to a great dream that was stolen. The same happened to the 30 June wave, a harsh lesson that left those who had lived through the squares profoundly frustrated and, for many, psychologically wounded.
I am certain the revolution was broken, but not defeated. It remained incomplete because it stopped at an uprising and did not reach power. The frustration that followed such extraordinary hope and mass participation deserves serious reflection, and criticism is part of that.
I hope my writing encourages others to contribute. It can equip younger generations, because Egypt cannot continue in its present impasse. If an uprising happens again, will we allow it to be stolen once more? Our sacrifices must not be in vain. Recognising our mistakes is part of avoiding another costly repetition and enabling people to protect their revolution.
Why was leaving Tahrir Square on 11 February a mistake?
There were several possible paths. The people had imposed their will and forced Mubarak to leave, so they should have chosen a real representative leadership from the square. The natural step was a temporary presidential council to govern until the first presidential election.
Dispersing without making that choice was a grave mistake. People had every right to go home after difficult days, but they left without appointing anyone they could hold accountable. That left the Military Council, to which Mubarak had handed authority, as the sole actor. A president removed by the people had no legitimate authority to choose his successor.
The army was then genuinely in harmony with the people’s will. It was the best moment for a civilian presidential council to work with it during the transition. This is not only hindsight: many discussions in Tahrir had recognised the need, but we failed to act. Our revolutionary awareness, as political currents and elites, was insufficient.
I blame myself and the elite, not the people. Those who should have had greater awareness and experience had a responsibility to offer that alternative. Had we put it before the square, the public would have accepted the principle.
I called it the “original sin”: leaving Tahrir without a civilian leadership that we could appoint, hold accountable and task with completing what we had begun.
Some blame January for Egypt’s economic situation. How do you respond, and could Egypt endure another such wave?
Blaming the January revolution for today’s economic conditions deliberately falsifies the facts and is a counter-revolutionary tactic. It aims to turn public opinion against the idea of revolution itself.
Egypt’s economic problems have several causes, foremost among them mismanagement and the policies followed after the uprising. The real damage came from the revolution’s reversal, not the revolution.
Had the square produced a leadership accountable to the people, pursuing economic policies centred on their interests and their demands for bread, freedom and dignity, Egypt would not have reached its present suffocating crisis.
What remains of January’s slogan: bread, freedom and social justice?
It remains an authentic Egyptian dream. Those aspirations existed before the revolution, which renewed and expressed them more clearly. A great people cannot advance without a national renewal project providing a dignified life, social justice, human dignity and independence.
January expressed what Egyptians had carried in their hearts and struggled for over decades. It continued the national movement’s long history while also emerging from its particular local, regional and international moment.
The slogan endures because the need is real. Any Egyptian thinking about the country’s future will find those demands—bread, freedom, social justice and human dignity—still express what they want.
The problem is that the slogan has not found policies to realise it or an authority sincerely committed to doing so. We should reject the practices that blocked its implementation, rather than abandon it because it remains unfulfilled.
Does one political faction bear most responsibility for January’s reversal?
Responsibility is collective. The revolution was a collective undertaking and every current was present. Each has a share of the mistakes, even if those shares differ. Approaching January as “I am innocent and everyone else is guilty” would take us backwards.
Does Egypt need reform or revolution?
Both express society’s need for change. But I believe Egypt and the Arab world need a safe route that enables people to impose their will without sacrificing stability or state institutions.
I can support President Sisi and Jordan’s King Abdullah in rejecting the displacement of Palestinians from Gaza, despite their support for the Camp David and Wadi Araba agreements. Equally, I see reform and revolution as expressions of the need for a path to change, and that path must protect the people and their institutions.
We call for peaceful change through fair elections that allow people to express their will. If those doors are closed, popular uprising remains. No one can predict whether it will become a revolution. I do not want to reproduce successful uprisings followed by failed revolutions.
This is a critical moment for forces seeking change. Finding the difficult route through fair elections would be the safe choice. Poverty and despair are creating social pressure that could produce an explosion, not merely a peaceful uprising but an angry reaction from poor people who feel humiliated.
That is a real danger to Egypt, its people, state and institutions. Every responsible person should work to open the door to peaceful change through free and fair elections and avoid social collapse.
You supported the Syrian uprising in 2012, met Bashar Al-Assad in 2023 and opposed Ahmed Al-Sharaa in 2024. What changed?
The Syrian uprising began like Egypt’s and Tunisia’s, as a people-made part of the Arab Spring carrying beautiful hopes. But once armed, it lost its meaning and became a bloodbath. The promise of peaceful democratic change became a conflict that exhausted both people and authorities.
Projects emerged to divide and subjugate Syria and break its position in the resistance, particularly as it was among the few states that refused a peace agreement with the Zionist enemy. This transformation, in my view, took place with American sponsorship and Gulf funding, including the arrival of extremist groups, turning the conflict into an international project to fragment Syria.
My answer to change through violence and warfare was, and remains, no. I do not believe change can be achieved through weapons and bloodshed: the winner is then whoever has external financing and arms, not whoever is most committed to democracy and freedom. We saw that in the ascendancy of extremist forces with foreign connections.
In 2023, I led an Arab National Congress secretariat delegation to Damascus as its elected secretary-general. We met Assad to convey our support for Syria’s resistance, territorial and popular unity, Arab identity and role in supporting resistance movements.
Without Syria’s role, Palestinian and Lebanese resistance would not, I believe, have had the level of preparedness seen in Al-Aqsa Flood. But our message also called for democratic internal reconciliation, prisoners’ release and political solutions.
We met Syrian opponents of Assad who rejected armed violence, submitted detainees’ names and requested their release, including members of the Arab National Congress.
The supposed choice between democracy and resistance to Zionism or foreign domination is false and dangerous. Supporting resistance does not require opposing democracy, nor does demanding democracy require abandoning resistance.
The Arab National Congress advocates an Arab renewal project centred on independence and the liberation of Palestine, with democracy, human rights and popular government among its six main pillars. We are independent: neither the Syrian regime nor any other government controls our decisions.
Neither the congress nor I have acted as a prop for Arab authoritarianism. I believe I was right to support Syria’s unity and opposition to Israel, and right to call for prisoners’ release and a political solution without bloodshed.
I do not boycott Arab rulers; I boycott Israel. Meeting a president does not mean approving every policy. I have always been an opponent in Egypt but have never refused a meeting with an Egyptian president. The visit must be judged by the message it carried, which I still consider right. In similar circumstances, I would make the same visit.
What would you say to Laila Soueif?
She is an outstanding Egyptian who serves her country sincerely through her humanitarian and political work, as well as her distinguished academic career. Her hunger strike for her son Alaa Abd El-Fattah’s freedom has raised her standing in the hearts of everyone with a living conscience.
I fully support her and Alaa’s right to his immediate release, just as I support every prisoner of conscience’s right to freedom. Egypt needs to empty its prisons of them, restore its standing before the world and ease its conscience.
You began your political life at university. How do you see universities today?
They are besieged and impoverished politically, with no effective student movement. That reflects the wider desertification. A society that denies universities an active role and prevents young people from contributing at a formative stage is condemned to political atrophy. That is Egypt’s present condition.
What about press freedom, with independent websites blocked, most recently Zawia3?
We have clearly demanded an end to website blocking and genuine press freedom. The press’s condition is deeply regrettable. Egypt’s soft power was central to its regional and international role, and the present situation deprives it of one of its most important instruments.
We cannot recover that role without genuine press freedom, which is inseparable from wider public freedoms. Journalists’ conditions and media institutions need serious improvement. The press has been removed from its proper role, another sign of political desertification and the destruction of public life.
As a Nasserist, how do you assess the current—in its parties, among intellectuals and in the wider public?
Gamal Abdel Nasser is a great symbol for the Arab nation. Younger generations may not feel his importance as those who lived through his era did. Yet in every major Egyptian crisis, his approach returns as a possible answer.
That is why attacks on him have continued for more than half a century. They target not only the man but the idea he embodies. This is a struggle over the future, not merely the past. Those seeking to strip Egyptians and Arabs of food, freedom, independence and dignity remain hostile to him.
Nasser symbolises the right to a dignified life, good education and healthcare, and the ability to confront Israel and the United States without hesitation. He embodied refusing to submit to threats to cut aid or tolerate insults to Egypt.
He represents Palestinian liberation, Arab unity, national independence and renewal. Democracy is a component Nasserists developed after his death as part of that project.
I see Nasserism as a possible answer to the Arab world’s decline. Nasserists themselves, however, share other political forces’ organisational weakness, fragile parties and external constraints. Nasserism remains alive in popular consciousness, but its party and organisational expression is in crisis and needs renewal.
