It was the final phase of the Mubarak dictatorship. The last programme of repression and the final cabinet shuffle had failed. A broken Mubarak as he staggered back to his quarters was heard to mutter in the corridor to a general, ʻWe will have to play the Coptic card. Itʼs always worked before.ʼ A coptic persecution was guaranteed to raise the West against any threat of a Muslim takeover. In the final attempt to stop Ikhwani election to the presidency, the generals played the coptic card again.
Faced with the pragmatic realism of the American Secretary of State there now appeared the possibility of the generals losing their no longer secure billions in Aid from the U.S. This time the generals had to dig deep in the Dostoevskian darkness of underworld groups and fanatics. They came up with their man, one they would not even have to eliminate once his mission was accomplished, that would be done for them.
The coptic dwarf was funded and fired into space. It was messy. Itʼs author, more so. It worked. The fall-out in human lives was excessive but that effectively hid the source of the trouble. Everyone played his part. The Americans droned on about free speech. The generals pointed the finger, “We warned you! The Islamists are coming!” And they came. Iran and Hizbullah seized the moment. This was the cue to reclaim leadership of the Muslims against the wicked U.S. shaytan. The perfect distraction from the dawning realisation of the Muslims that shiʼism was its historical enemy and Syria its proof. Assad breathed a sigh of relief and re-iterated his, “I told you so.”
Egypt, in the name of Allah, the Exalted – ʻWAKE UP.ʼ
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