The Economist’s latest headline on the Iran-Israel nuclear dance. This might help if you don’t get it.

Oh, and the article itself if you’re interested.

My big curtain-raiser on Egypt’s upcoming elections is finally up at Middle East Report. For the piece I followed the al-Adl party closely to get a sense of how a new party, struggling to organize in time for elections, was faring in Egypt’s chaotic transition period. My conclusions? Not terribly well.

But I have been impressed by al-Adl’s young activists. They are pushing forward in spite of obstacles from the country’s military rulers, domineering parties, and a lack of funding. They are just realistic enough to understand the limits of their potential, but they are still full of revolutionary verve. They are incredibly ambitious, but meticulously reformist. They’re greatest failure may be the faith they put in the Egyptian people to make sound choices on good information. That’s a difficult task in any democracy.

I wrote a piece that gives a quick look at the Al-Adl Party for Al Masry Al Youm. I’ve been looking into the party for a while now as part of a larger piece I am working on for Middle East Report Online, which ought to come out in mid-November just in time for elections scheduled at the end of the month.

The Al-Adl Party is a curious mix. They are one of the many parties that grew up out of partnerships formed by young activists in Tahrir Square during the revolutionary protests in January and February. Most of these parties are floundering in obscurity. Many failed to collect the 5,000 signatures needed to be formally licensed by the state. Those that have been licensed tend to be dominated by a single, well-known figure, and most barely even register in polling data.

But the Al-Adl Party’s polling numbers pop up alongside other new parties on the bloc, such as the Free Egyptians Party and the Egyptian Social Democratic Party, that were formed by older, more seasoned business and political leaders. The former is funded by major business leaders in the country. Their expertise in management got the party up and running quickly and they have been able to buy major advertising campaigns to raise awareness. The Egyptian Social Democratic Party has a number of well-known political figures and commentators, and this has kept their profile up.

Let’s not fool ourselves: the numbers aren’t great. Even in the most generous poll, Al-Adl was sitting at 4.7% of decided voters (still less than half), and many people I have spoken to have questioned the validity of the poll run by the Al-Ahram Centre. But Al-Adl’s favourables are on the rise (20% in August, 27% in September) and the party has earned at least some credibility for staying out of much of the divisive political in-fighting that has swallowed up the energy of Egypt’s political class in the last few months.

When all the parties were rushing into electoral blocs, Al-Adl made a point of criticizing the polarization between what was seen as an “Islamist” bloc and a “Secular” bloc. When major parties formed along broad ideological lines, Al-Adl remained fiercely technocratic (party activists have stressed this point above all others in every conversation I have had with them). When other parties scrambled to pad their electoral lists with powerful figures in districts around the country, Al-Adl trimmed down, running only those candidates they had closely vetted. Time and again, Al-Adl has made moves to separate itself from the pack. The trouble is getting people to notice.

The party is not running any paid advertisments — no funds they say — and community events have been persistent but small. Party members are convinced their platform will resonate with voters, but in Egypt’s current climate many voters are likely to vote according to their identity. Most party platforms hug the political center and with a fragmented parliament expected after elections, it’s not clear that any party will have the sway to implement their proposals. The major problem most new parties face is standing out from the crowd, and Al-Adl’s technocratic, anti-ideology message is completely untested in Egypt. It may not be understood.

But party activists have their own vision of success. They don’t expect to hold the kind of broad electoral sweep of the Muslim Brotherhood or other major coalitions (Egyptian Bloc, Democratic Alliance, a Salafist bloc and The Revolution Continues). They are looking for a foot in the door, just enough seats to have a voice. They may get it. In the last few weeks the major electoral blocs shed parties at an astounding rate and the result is an electoral landscape that looks very different. The Democratic Alliance is still a front-runner with its Muslim Brotherhood patron, but the country’s other major opposition party, Al-Wafd, is on its own. The Egyptian Bloc, which was set to be the liberal opposition, has been trimmed to only three parties, losing several members to The Revolution Continues, a loose assortment of parties that have taken direct aim at the country’s military rulers.

This, combined with an election system that tends to favor mid-size parties, means Al-Adl could get a decent showing. They won’t be running the country, but they could emerge as a mid-level broker in the first parliament. If they do, will they learn to play along with other parties or continue to keep to themselves?

Now here’s a bizarre story. An Egyptian man who apparently looks a lot like Saddam Hussein says he was asked to star in a sex tape. After he refused, he says he was shoved into a car by men in suits with guns who then apparently changed their minds and chucked him back out onto the street. Sounds incredible, as in, un-credible.

At least Al-Ahram was able to attribute it to a “foreign gang.”

Two weeks late, but just saw this at Al Ahram Weekly Online.

Protesters returned to Tahrir square today for the first time since the army took control of Cairo’s revolutionary hub last month. By chance, I crossed the bridge from Zamelek leading into Tahrir behind the Al Ahly ultras, football fans whose famous chants have become increasingly politicized during the revolution. On Tuesday night they lit cars on fire during clashes with police and have since turned up outside the police academy where Mubarak is being tried.

They were unlike the protesters I have seen in Egypt. They crossed the bridge in a slow procession, led by a young man on the shoulders of another in a series of detailed, choreographed chants. At the end of the bridge they passed between the two lion statues in a flurry of energy, as smoke rose from a red flare carried in the procession. A small group of men in orange vests cleared the road in front of them and every few minutes they would stop and collect those who had strayed from the group, ensuring a tight, forceful mass of people.

Before entering Tahrir they stopped in front of the Arab League headquarters and I used the opportunity to get out ahead of the crowd. The ultras raised their hands in the air in a cultish display of ritual and then the streets shook with a sudden outburst as their chants transformed the atmosphere. Jumping up and down and charging forward, they threw firecrackers and lit flares in a powerful announcement of their arrival at Tahrir.

In the heat of the moment I scrawled in my notepad the words: “What a fucking presence!” The energy was extraordinary and young men from Tahrir came running out to join them. Within minutes their numbers doubled. I took it as a demonstration of the power of competence. Who wouldn’t want to be part of this group that knew so well how to make a spectacle of itself? It was a jarring contrast to the tired ritual of Tahrir’s central stage, always in front of the Hardees, always with someone screeching slogans over the loudspeaker, always a tired audience doing their best to chant along. All this energy from football fans. Egyptians truly aren’t that different from Westerners.

Three veiled woman, each with a purple or red umbrella, chuckled at the sight of the crowd as the ultras pushed their way into the square. They marched back and forth across Tahrir with little respect for anyone else. At one point they left up Talat al-Harb street only to return with another sudden, powerful display. They marched back into the square and strode through the crowd massed in front of the loudspeakers as the person on the microphone made a futile attempt to win back their audience.

They did this all afternoon, from 1pm until at least 4pm, when I gave up on the hot sun and retreated to a friend’s place nearby. I don’t know where they got the energy.

I spent Tuesday walking around the Agouza neighbourhood in Cairo to see how people felt about Mubarak’s impending trial. Agouza is a neighbourhood where even a little English is hard to find, but I wanted to give it a shot in order to access a socio-economic class that is not often represented in western reports.

Many people were hesitant to speak angrily about Mubarak on the second day of Ramadan, when muslims are meant to be more forgiving. One heavily bearded man in a galabya waved me down from across the street. He turned out to have the best English of anyone I met that day, but refused to speak of any desire for revenge.

“Yes, I am angry,” Ali Fawzy said. “But Islam teaches us not to wish bad things, even on bad people.”

Ali was all for the revolution — the spiritual revolution. He wasn’t much impressed with the one that happened in January and February. “The right kind of revolution will change the people, not just the leaders,” he said. Wise words, of course. But his was not the political revolution millions of Egyptians went to the streets for six months ago. Judging by his dress (not the best measure in Cairo, where conservative clothing is worn for many reasons), he wanted a particularly wahhabist revolution, a type of conservative Islamism that has grown considerably in Egypt.

Hamam Mohamed was not happy about Mubarak going on trial. “Mubarak was like my father for 30 years. I love Mubarak,” he said. “His sons are dirty and Habib al-Adly is dirty,” he said, but Mubarak was untouchable.

His sister, Samah, disagreed. “Mubarak is dirty,” she said from the counter of her small electrical supply store. Her brother gave her a quick talking to in Arabic and she changed her mind. “I don’t know,” she said. When her brother left I asked if she was sure she wasn’t happy about the trial. “He killed a lot of people on January 25,” she said. “I think he killed them.”

The outing was a reminder that there is still a small but insistent minority that is not happy with the revolution. For Ali it was merely a distraction from the spiritual revolution he sought. For Hamam, Mubarak remained the heart of a personality cult spun over his three decade rule that left the country dotted with police academies, schools, metro stations and hospitals bearing his name. The same police academy he was flown into for his trial yesterday was called the Mubarak Police Acadmy only six months ago.

The metro stations in Cairo have scrubbed Mubarak’s name from the signs, but the vast system of patriarchy that he stood atop lingers on. If Egyptians get reasonably free and fair elections, they will have to work hard to hold on to a vigorous and representative parliamentary process.

Check out the wonderful Trump-esque hair sweep on Yemeni opposition leader Abdul  Rahman Bafadel. Taken from an appearance on Al Jazeera last week.

For my inaugural blog post, here is one of the problems you might face when living on a houseboat along the Nile. I have heard these river residences are highly coveted and this one appears to be occupied, at least the second floor.