Answering The Call - Popular Islamic Activism in Sadat's Egypt PDF

ABDULLAH AL-ARIAN
ANSWERING
THE CALL
Popular Islamic Activism
in Sadat's Egypt
Answering the Call
RELIGION AND GLOBAL POLITICS
SERIES EDITOR
John L. Esposito
University Professor and Director
Prince Alwaleed Bin Talal Center for Muslim-Christian Understanding
Georgetown University
ISLAMIC LEVIATHAN
Islam and the Making of State Power
Seyyed Vali Reza Nasr
RACHID GHANNOUCHI
A Democrat Within Islamism
Azzam S. Tamimi
BALKAN IDOLS
Religion and Nationalism in Yugoslav States
Vjekoslav Perica
ISLAMIC POLITICAL IDENTITY IN TURKEY
M. Hakan Yavuz
RELIGION AND POLITICS IN POST-COMMUNIST ROMANIA
Lavinia Stan and Lucian Turcescu
PIETY AND POLITICS
Islamism in Contemporary Malaysia
Joseph Chinyong Liow
TERROR IN THE LAND OF THE HOLY SPIRIT
Guatemala under General Efrain Rios Montt, 1982–1983
Virginia Garrard-Burnett
IN THE HOUSE OF WAR
Dutch Islam Observed
Sam Cherribi
BEING YOUNG AND MUSLIM
New Cultural Politics in the Global South and North
Asef Bayat and Linda Herrera
CHURCH, STATE, AND DEMOCRACY IN EXPANDING EUROPE
Lavinia Stan and Lucian Turcescu
THE HEADSCARF CONTROVERSY
Secularism and Freedom of Religion
Hilal Elver
THE HOUSE OF SERVICE
The Gülen Movement and Islam’s Third Way
David Tittensor
Answering
the Call
Popular Islamic Activism
in Sadat’s Egypt
z
by
ABDULLAH AL-ARIAN
1
1
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Al-Arian, Abdullah
Answering the call : popular Islamic activism in Sadatʼs Egypt / By Abdullah Al-Arian.
p. cm. — (Religion and global politics)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978–0–19–993127–9 (hardcover : alk. paper) —
ISBN 978–0–19–993128–6 (ebook) — ISBN 978–0–19–937378–9 (online content)
1. Jamʼiyat al-Ikhwan al-Muslimin (Egypt)—History. 2. Islamic fundamentalism—
Egypt—History—20th century. 3. Islam and politics—Egypt. I. Title.
BP10.J383A427 2014
322.4ʼ2096209047—dc23
2013043924
1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2
Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper

In loving memory of Adel
Contents
Foreword—john o. voll ix
Preface xv
A Note on Sources xviii
A Note on Transliteration xx
Introduction 1
1. The Islamic Movement on the Eve of Sadat 18

2. The Youth of Islam 49
3. Return of the Brothers 75
4. Islam on Campus 105
5. The Young and the Old 146
6. Constructing the Call 176
Conclusion 215
Epilogue 221
Notes 241
Bibliography 267
Index 279
Foreword
the muslim brotherhood (al-Ikhwan al-Muslimun) began as a small

religious study group in the Suez Canal Zone in Egypt in 1928. By the
twenty-first century, the Brotherhood had become one of the most well-
known and influential Muslim organizations in the world. The candidate
of its political party won the first democratic presidential elections in
Egypt following the overthrow of Egypt’s military dictator in the Arab
Spring of 2011, and following the military coup of 2013, the Brotherhood
became the largest organized opposition force in the country.
This long and dramatic history of the Brotherhood has many periods
of crisis and change. The organization maintains a strong sense of conti-
nuity from the days of its founder, Hasan al-Banna, but each period in its
history has a distinctive character, reflecting the challenges of that par-
ticular time. Its development reflects the broader themes of modern
Egyptian history.
In the late 1960s, many observers argued that the Brotherhood was
basically no longer an important force in Egyptian society. It had lost its
charismatic founder-leader and was brutally suppressed by the authoritar-
ian military regime that had been established by Gamal Abdel Nasser
following the revolution of 1952. Many believed that its fundamentalist
message was out of step with the times. Writing in 1968, Richard Mitchell,
the author of an influential study of the history of the Brotherhood, con-
cluded that “the essentially secular reform nationalism now in vogue in
the Arab world will continue to operate to end the earlier appeal of this
organization.”1
By the early 1980s, however, the situation was very different. Analysts
and political activists spoke of an Islamic resurgence throughout the
Muslim world. An influential study of Egyptian militants of the late 1970s
argued that Nasserism “seemed to have run out of steam,” providing an
opening in which “Islamic militancy began its present surge.”2 Observers
x Foreword
spoke of “Egypt’s militant Islamic movement” as “more vocal, active, and

committed on political issues than any other in Egypt today [1980].”3 The
old “secular reform nationalism” was no longer important in the thinking
of the Islamic resurgence (or even among the more secularist educated
elite). “In terms of the religious dimension of ideology, their reading of
history and their overall vision for the future, the militants expressed no
differences with the Muslim Brotherhood.”4
This transformation—from being the core of a movement with fading
popular appeal into being central to an Islamic resurgence in Egypt—was
dramatic. Between the 1967 Arab-Israeli war and the assassination of
Egyptian President Anwar al-Sadat in 1981, the Brotherhood reorganized
its structures and rearticulated its message in ways that established the
organization as a major force in politics and society. In the early 1980s,
many people even suggested the possibility of an Islamic revolution in
Egypt, led by the Brotherhood, similar to the revolution that established
the Islamic Republic in Iran in 1979.
The visibility of small extremist Muslim groups in Egypt during the
1970s led many to fear that the larger Brotherhood would be in the van-
guard of violent militancy during the 1980s. Instead, the Brotherhood
emerged as a mainstream Islamist organization, minimizing the influ-
ence of hard-line extremists in the movement who criticized the Brother-
hood for “its commitment to gradualism and its willingness to participate
in a political system not based on the laws of Islam.”5 It was as a gradualist
advocate of social transformation, not a militant inciter of violence, that the
Brotherhood emerged from the period when Anwar al-Sadat ruled Egypt.
Abdullah Al-Arian presents a comprehensive, in-depth account of the
main Brotherhood organization during this time of dramatic growth and
development in the 1970s. Other studies of Muslim groups at that time
have concentrated on the more militant and violent groups, which gained
more headlines but represented small extremist minorities in the devel-
oping Islamic resurgence. Al-Arian provides a broader picture of the
emerging Islamist movement that recognizes the diversity of organiza-
tions and tendencies within the movement during the 1970s and 1980s.
This diversity received less attention in the earlier and still influential
studies of the period. In those studies, the Islamist movement is defined
primarily in terms of the ideology of Sayyid Qutb, the Egyptian radical
who was executed in 1966. Qutb provided the rationale for the militant
jihadism that developed in the 1970s and even in the twenty-first century
has some continuing influence among Muslim militant extremists. He
Foreword xi
argued that Muslim societies had fallen so far from the true message of
Islam that they should be regarded as unbelieving and in the state of bel-
ligerent ignorance, or jahiliyya. Qutb argued that jihad against this jahili-
yya was the obligation of those who continued to be actual believers.
The jihadist ideology provided the foundations for the small militant
groups of the 1970s, but it was not the foundation for the thinking and
programs of the Muslim Brotherhood. Recent studies by scholars like
Barbara Zollner have shown that Hasan al-Hudaybi, who led the Brother-
hood from the time of al-Banna’s death until 1973, presented “the first
substantial refutation of Sayyid Qutb’s ideas.”6 Al-Arian shows how the
mainstream Brotherhood leadership developed this non-jihadist perspec-
tive in the era of its transformation. Qutb remained a revered martyr, but
his ideology was not central to Brotherhood perspectives.
Al-Arian argues that the central message of the mainstream Brother-
hood was not Qutb’s jihad but rather, it was daʻwa, the “mission” or “call,”
urging Muslims to live their lives more in accord with Islamic teachings.
This distinction was emphasized in the title of the book by Hudaybi that
argued against Qutb’s views: Preachers, Not Judges (Duʻat la qudat). Al-
Arian shows how the concept of daʻwa was developed by the Brotherhood
during the 1970s, distinguishing it from other groups within the Muslim
movement who called for militant and revolutionary jihad. Scholars who
emphasized the Qutb tradition argued at the time that “by deliberately
opting for moderation, the neo-Muslim Brethren failed to capture the
spirit of the Society of Muslim Brethren of Hasan al-Banna’s time. . . . In
the ramshackle dwellings of the suburbs ringing the large Egyptian cities,
people bypassed by progress and development turned toward other, more
radical tendencies of the Islamicist movement.”7 This prediction was in-
correct, as the jihadists lost influence even among the poorer Egyptians,
who turned to the welfare services of the Brotherhood for support in their
misery. In the long run, the daʻwa approach gained more support than the
jihadist. Al-Arian’s study examines how opting for moderation was, in
fact, in the tradition of al-Banna, and how the jihadist approach became
marginal within the Islamist movement in Egypt in the final decades of
the twentieth century.
The reorganized Brotherhood that developed during the 1970s was,
according to Al-Arian, the product of the cooperation of older Muslim
Brothers with new and dynamic Islamist student groups. In the early
1970s, the Islamic student movement created a new culture of activism
that replaced the old, previously dominant leftist student groupings. As
xii Foreword
Al-Arian shows, the leadership of the major group, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya,

joined with the Brotherhood and provided an important support base for
the reestablished Brotherhood. The student jihadists, in contrast, became
a marginalized minority and tended to create or work within groups out-
side the Brotherhood. Al-Arian’s analysis of this process is a major addi-
tion to the scholarship dealing with the evolution of Islamism in the era
of the “Islamic resurgence.”
Al-Arian’s study provides an important corrective to the common view
that all Islamists are militant and extremist advocates of violent jihad. The
Islamist mainstream in Egypt, as it developed in the 1970s, was gradual-
ist and reformist, and it is this majority mode that set the tone for what
came to be called Political Islam in the 1980s. Despite the repressive poli-
cies of Sadat’s successor, Hosni Mubarak, the Brotherhood remained
committed to the daʻwa approach rather than calling for revolutionary
jihad. As Al-Arian shows, the foundations for this commitment were set
by the ideas and actions of the Islamist students and the Brotherhood
leadership during the 1970s.
In many ways, the Brotherhood of the 1970s set important patterns for
the Political Islam of the 1980s and later in many parts of the Muslim
world. The Islamic youth movement in Malaysia (Angkatan Belia Islam
Malaysia, ABIM) was established in the early 1970s and became a major
force in Malaysian politics and society. In many ways, it explicitly modeled
itself on the Muslim Brotherhood, especially as a daʻwa organization. The
translation of Hudaybi’s Preachers Not Judges provided an important guide
for ABIM members.8 A similar student movement emerged in Tunisia
(Mouvement de la Tendance Islamique; MTI) by the early 1980s under
the leadership of Rachid Ghannoushi. Although he was “strongly influ-
enced by the thought of the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood and particu-
larly Sayyid Qutb in his early development and Islamic activism, Ghan-
noushi came to realize that though Qutb was a great man, he is ‘not the
spokesman for Islam.’”9 The MTI and al-Nahdah, the political party that
it established in the late 1980s, were not jihadist but rather followed the
daʻwa approach, even under the repressive military regime of Ben Ali.
Other major manifestations of Political Islam in the 1970s and 1980s
show these same tendencies.
The marginalization of radical jihadism in favor of policies of daʻwa
is an important feature of the development of Islamism from being the
approach of fringe extremists to an important expression of the vision
and hopes of mainstream Muslims. Al-Arian shows how the Muslim
Foreword xiii
Brotherhood was able to make the transition from marginal to main-

stream in Egyptian politics and society. The jihadist approach would not
have been able to mobilize populist support for participation in move-
ments of democratization. In many ways, it was the transformation of the
Brotherhood in the 1970s that made the electoral victories of the Brother-
hood in 2012 possible.
John O. Voll
Preface
on the morning of January 25, 2014, Cairo’s Tahrir Square was eerily
quiet. The epicenter of a popular uprising that brought down the authori-
tarian rule of Hosni Mubarak only three years earlier now stood devoid of
life, with only a hastily built monument serving as a haunting reminder
of the fleeting nature of the country’s revolutionary moment. As though
to cement the emerging order even further, later in the day crowds rallied
in the square in support of yet another military man’s bid to become
Egypt’s uncontested ruler. Elsewhere around the country that day, clashes
continued between the security forces of General ‘Abd al-Fattah al-Sisi
and supporters of the ousted Mohamed Morsi, a Muslim Brotherhood
leader and the nation’s first democratically elected president until his re-
moval by the military exactly one year into his term.
In the span of just three years, Egypt’s oldest social movement organi-
zation experienced the most dramatic oscillation in fortunes, with both
highs and lows unprecedented in its storied history. Seemingly overnight,
the Muslim Brotherhood was transformed from officially outlawed—but
tolerated—opposition to ruling party in the post-revolutionary transition.
But its moment in the sun was to be short-lived, as the Muslim Brother-
hood’s domination of the political transition and its failure to fulfill the
demands of the revolution, coupled with the resurgence of deeply en-
trenched state institutions combined to overturn its narrow short-term
gains and thwart the possibility of real systemic changes to Egypt’s au-
thoritarian political order. By the time of the third anniversary of the
launch of the January 25 movement, the promise embodied in the remark-
able uprising had become all but a distant memory. The renewed repres-
sion of the Muslim Brotherhood (and indeed, all of Egypt’s independent
political forces) and the subsequent struggle against the military’s attempts
to reassert its will has ensured that the final chapter in the confrontation
between the regime and the society it seeks to control is far from written.
xvi Preface
When I set out to conduct the research for this book, I did not antici-
pate that the experiences of Egypt’s activists during the 1970s would take
center stage in an impending revolutionary moment. As I attempted to
chart the displacement of Nasser era political activism by a young and vi-
brant Islamic student movement that eventually linked with veterans of
the society founded by Hassan al-Banna, the stakes did not appear to be
particularly high. The legacy of this era was rarely discussed in the open,
even as the apparent contemporary divisions within the Muslim Brother-
hood, following its reconstitution in the mid-1970s, were a direct conse-
quence of major experiences and critical decisions that can be dated back
to this period. A new generation of youth took to the streets to challenge
Mubarak’s rule in 2011, just as past leaders of the Egyptian student move-
ment, such as ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh, ‘Esam al-‘Erian, and Helmi
al-Gazzar, had taken on the excesses of the regime of Anwar al-Sadat sev-
eral decades earlier.
In the aftermath of Mubarak’s overthrow, however, it would be those
veteran activists, having been fully enmeshed within the rigid hierarchi-
cal structure of the Muslim Brotherhood, who would attempt to exert their
influence over the emerging political order. Along with outsiders from the
same generation who eventually became insiders, including Morsi and
Khairat al-Shater, Egypt’s future would be shaped in large part by contend-
ing visions of Islamic activism that have been playing out since the Sadat
era. In the pages that follow, I attempt to recreate a historical moment that
has been neglected for far too long. Years before the legacy of this era
became a contentious topic in the political campaigns of the post-Mubarak
transition, the 1970s were one of the most dynamic and captivating eras of
the last half-century of Egyptian history. In retelling the story of this
period, it is my hope that the free-spirited and uninhibited nature of these
experiences comes across with minimal attempts to provide a guiding
structure where one was rarely exhibited at the time. To that end, I rely on
the voices of that period as much as possible, for it is their story to share.
I am deeply appreciative for all those who agreed to speak with me re-
garding experiences that in some instances spanned over half a century.
This book could not have been possible without the wealth of informa-
tion, written and recollected, that was provided by all of the subjects who
appear here. I would also like to thank my relatives in Cairo for their
warmth and hospitality throughout the course of my field research.
Indeed, the comfort and support they provided ensured that this project
would remain a labor of love, even on the most trying of research days.
Preface xvii
I am incredibly grateful for the many teachers and mentors I have had
the privilege of encountering throughout my intellectual formation. I
would like to thank Robert Keohane, David Paletz, miriam cooke, and
Sarah Shields for the unbelievable patience they demonstrated while shar-
ing their wisdom and guidance with a mystified undergraduate and for
their mentorship in the years since. I am also incredibly indebted to Judith
Tucker and Emad Shahin, both of whom helped plant the seeds that were
eventually to become this research project through their transformative
courses and their diligent supervision of my work from its earliest stages.
Nathan Brown was kind enough to have suffered through an earlier ver-
sion of my manuscript and has served as an invaluable resource through-
out the formative years of my academic career. To John Voll and John Es-
posito, I owe my deepest debt of gratitude. It is the passion and precision
they have demonstrated in their scholarship for decades that inspired me
to pursue this path. Their generosity of spirit and unwavering commit-
ment to illuminate the path before their students has made this work
possible. I could not have asked for better mentorship. Any insight offered
by this study is due to the commitment, patience, and wisdom of all of my
mentors. Whatever shortcomings it contains are purely my own.
I am also grateful to the many friends, classmates, and colleagues I
have had over the years, for the long talks about subjects ranging from the
trivial to the hyperintellectual, the sharing of our mutual frustrations,
and the opportunity for critical engagement of each other’s work. Adel
Ait-Ghezala was a constant source of inspiration to all those he encoun-
tered, and with his untimely passing, I have lost a kindred spirit.
Finally, I would like to recognize what we have always said is the most
important thing: family. Without their unconditional love, guidance, and
support I could not have faced any of life’s challenges, or endeavored on
the path of scholarly pursuits. My parents, Sami and Nahla, instilled in
me a thirst for knowledge and a desire to share it with others. My siblings,
Laila, Leena, Ali, and Lama have shown me the importance of listening to
and appreciating the individual experiences of others. Together, they have
all taught me more than I can ever hope to repay.
Abdullah Al-Arian
Washington D.C.
February 2014
A Note on Sources
social movement history, by its very nature as a phenomenon arising

in opposition to the state, does not lend itself to the production of system-
atized and organized materials to be discovered years later in a central
state archive. In the case of the Muslim Brotherhood of Egypt, the sensitiv-
ity surrounding the persistence of an organization that has been officially
outlawed since 1954 ensured that the process of collecting primary source
documents of an official nature would be even more daunting, if not out-
right impossible. Whatever official records exist about the Islamic move-
ment reside strictly in the domain of Egypt’s state security agency and are
unavailable to the public.
Nonetheless, the story of the 1970s Islamic movement, especially the
segments of it that have pursued their mission in public and have en-
gaged with the larger society, provides for a number of ripe sources for the
investigation of popular religious activism. Newspaper archives, even as
they frequently reflect the cynicism of an authoritarian regime, provide
meticulous daily accounts of events as they were experienced by many
Egyptians. This includes those responsible for creating headlines, whether
as student activists marching through the gates of Cairo University or
movement elders who recently won their release from prison. Other pub-
lications, including those of the Islamic movement itself, from monthly
magazines like al-Da‘wa to occasional booklets, pamphlets, student wall
magazines, and even conference programs, offer particular insight into
the vision and functions of groups like Shabab al-Islam and al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya.
The period also generated a considerable number of personal accounts,
recorded in the form of memoirs, from central leaders making crucial
decisions to peripheral figures observing events from the margins of the
Islamic movement. Other figures have either published shorter pieces re-
counting their experiences from the era, or have been interviewed for
A Note on Sources xix
various publications in the past. Additionally, for the purposes of this

study, interviews were conducted with a number of individuals who
played an important role in shaping events surrounding the Islamic
movement of the 1970s. These oral histories enhance the understanding
of events for which published accounts provide little context or explana-
tion, while also granting insight into the internal dynamics and relation-
ships at work in any social movement.
Another body of literature that delves into the experiences of Islamic
activism in the 1970s emerged out of internal studies conducted by mem-
bers of the group, who often meld their own personal experiences with
those of comrades and even opponents, and incorporate public docu-
ments, such as university records, whenever possible. Taken together,
these sources provide a narrative rich in detail, weaving together the
events and experiences that precipitated the rise of popular Islamic activ-
ism in Egypt during this era.
A Note on Transliteration
this study employs a simplified form of transliteration of Arabic words.

Diacritical marks are not included for the sake of readability. The ‘ symbol
represents the letter ‘ayn and the ’ symbol represents the hamza. A number
of words are transliterated into the colloquial Egyptian dialect, which fea-
tures a hard “g” sound (as in gama‘a) in place of the “j” of modern standard
Arabic (as in jama‘a). Popularized English spellings of prominent names,
such as Gamal Abdel Nasser, are utilized in this text. The ta marbuta word
ending is translated only as “a” and not “ah,” as in the aforementioned
gama‘a.
Answering the Call
Introduction
Cairo’s oppressive summer weather had yet to subside as the third

general guide of Gama‘at al-Ikhwan al-Muslimin (the Society of the
Muslim Brotherhood) languished in the damp heat of an Egyptian prison.
It was the fall of 1981, and he had not expected to be back inside so soon.
By now an old man, ‘Umar al-Tilmisani was a lawyer by training but had
spent nearly twenty years of his life as a political prisoner. In the decade
since his release, however, he had attained the top leadership position in
the Muslim Brotherhood and helped restore it to its former status as the
chief opposition movement in the country, largely through the successful
recruitment of a vibrant student movement. Along with several colleagues
from his inner circle, Tilmisani had traveled across the nation speaking at
conferences, attending summer youth camps, and meeting with students
on their campuses, preaching the da‘wa, or call, of the Muslim Brother-
hood to tens of thousands of young Egyptians in the process.
In contrast to the relative openness that had characterized much of
his time in office, on September 5 President Anwar al-Sadat ordered
state security agents to conduct a massive sweep of the country, arrest-
ing hundreds of members of the political opposition in all of its ideo-
logical stripes, from Nasserists and Marxists to the Islamic movement,
represented chiefly by the Muslim Brotherhood. Feeling threatened by
the rising tide of fervent political opposition, Sadat abandoned his rhetoric
on democracy, opting for a return to the repression that had characterized
the era of his predecessor, Gamal Abdel Nasser, by quashing all political
dissent. A month later he would be assassinated.
From the confinement of his cell, Tilmisani could do no more than pen
his prison memoir, recounting his experiences under the Sadat regime,
and commenting on the daily news items that trickled into the prison
2 a ns w er ing t he c a l l
through smuggled newspapers. In one entry, he lamented a news story

about Sadat’s meeting with the Higher Council of the Press. According
to the article, on his way out of the meeting, Sadat stopped to greet one
of the council’s members, ’Ihsan ‘Abd al-Quddus, a notable newspaper
editor, literary writer, and liberal commentator. Sadat smiled at his old
friend, shook his hand warmly, and spent a moment catching up with
him. Though he tried to muster a smile in return, ‘Abd al-Quddus could
not help but be reminded of the loss of his son Muhammad, who at that
very moment was in an undisclosed location, along with the hundreds of
other activists arrested by Sadat.1
Muhammad ‘Abd al-Quddus was a leader in al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya
(the Islamic Society), the powerful organization that represented religious
student activists in universities throughout the country. He had also re-
cently joined the Muslim Brotherhood and, carrying on the family tradi-
tion, had taken up journalism as a career and a personal passion. But
Muhammad did not report for one of the liberal, secular newspapers. He
was a writer for al-Da‘wa, the Muslim Brotherhood’s monthly magazine.
When security agents raided the offices of al-Da‘wa and arrested the edi-
tors and staff members, Muhammad ‘Abd al-Quddus was the youngest
person apprehended.2
In commenting on this chance encounter between Egypt’s authoritar-
ian ruler and a grieving father, Tilmisani wavered between unrestrained
condemnation of Sadat’s behavior and sadness at the pain that ’Ihsan ‘Abd
al-Quddus must have felt by coming face to face with the person respon-
sible for his son’s dismal fate. Sadat “was flexing his muscles, demonstrat-
ing his power . . . and reproaching [‘Abd al-Quddus] for allowing his son to
go along the path of the call to God.” Or, he pondered, was it possible that
Sadat was genuinely attempting to flatter his old friend? “His tenderness
did not end with a smile to the father he had deprived of his son . . . no,
not only did he smile at him, but he went out of his way to greet him. Have
you ever seen humility more charming than this?” Tilmisani concluded
sarcastically.3
This story serves as a symbolic representation of a number of trans-
formative developments of the Sadat era in modern Egyptian history. The
anguished father unable to confront the president in defense of his son is
a testament to the decline of liberalism in Egypt’s political culture, which
witnessed the replacement of the traditional political forces, the “centers
of power” as Sadat termed them, with a new political base made up of
ideologies antagonistic toward the liberal, nationalist, and radical socialist
Introduction 3
forces of old. The assumption of leadership by Tilmisani, who expressed

his deep outrage at Sadat in no uncertain terms, signaled the arrival of
the Muslim Brotherhood as the chief opposition movement leading the
popular contention against the state. In fact, Tilmisani’s role extended to
that of paternal caretaker to Muhammad ‘Abd al-Quddus, who along with
thousands of young Egyptians, joined in this movement at the expense
of the ideology of their parents. Finally, Sadat replicated the dualism for
which his regime had become known, warmly greeting his friend while
knowing that his policies had caused ‘Abd al-Quddus and his family so
much harm.
As a leader who in the span of a decade pursued war and peace, popu-
lism and free enterprise, democracy and despotism, Sadat was said to
have met his untimely demise at the hands of a movement he helped
create. Following a turbulent history of social activism, political conten-
tion, and militant resistance, the Muslim Brotherhood had experienced
such a crushing blow early in the Nasser era that few in Egypt would have
expected it to reappear. Yet after two decades of absence from society,
the Muslim Brotherhood re-emerged as a social movement organization
spreading a religious and political message and expressing its opposition
to the state. This study explores the underlying social developments, po-
litical conditions, and historical events that permitted the return of the
Muslim Brotherhood to the fore of Egyptian society and politics in the
1970s. Additionally, it investigates the internal factors within the orga-
nization’s disparate parts: its leaders, members, ideological mission, and
social program—to explain its stunning resilience in the face of severe
repression and its ability to reclaim its position at the head of an increas-
ingly diversified Islamic movement.
Beginning after Egypt’s defeat in the June War of 1967 and gathering
momentum with Sadat’s assumption of the presidency following Nasser’s
death in September 1970, religiously inspired social movements took
on a renewed urgency in their activist missions. By the middle of the
1970s, the trajectory of Islamic activism reached its height, as a vibrant
and dynamic student movement became dominated by religious youth
who put forward a multifaceted program of social advocacy and anti-state
contention, built on an intellectual project that incorporated a wide array
of sources and influences. Finding strength in its youth and diversity,
the religious student movement, led by al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, swept the
Student Union elections at nearly every Egyptian university, adding legiti-
macy to its cause and raising its ambitions. Meanwhile, following their
gradual release from prison, the Muslim Brotherhood’s former leaders

cemented their determination to continue their mission by reorganizing
their movement into something akin to the former organization.
By the end of the decade, the Muslim Brotherhood had been success-
fully reconstituted, due in large part to the ability of the senior leadership
to assimilate the Islamic student movement into the ranks of a new hier-
archical structure. Although the end of the Sadat period in 1981 occurred
at a time of renewed political repression and the mass imprisonment of
the leadership of the Islamic movement, young and old alike, the era itself
would be remembered for ushering in the return of Islamic activism in
the public sphere, a phenomenon that many have termed the “Islamic
resurgence.”4 Even Sadat’s assassination at the hands of a group of Islamic
militants was not enough to subdue a movement that established a per-
manent presence in Egyptian society beginning in the critical decade of
the 1970s.
Islamic Movements: Toward an Approach

This study engages and critiques the traditional method for the study
of Islamic movements, adopting a methodological approach designed to
most effectively capture the phenomenon under examination. In attempt-
ing to explain the rise of Islamic movements in the twentieth century,
traditional Orientalist studies often fell prey to an essentialist paradigm,
problematizing Islamic activism due to the fact that it purportedly stood
in opposition to long-standing modernization theory, which viewed the
path to progress in traditional societies as one of increased secularization,
coinciding with economic, political, and social development. For much
of the 1950s, as most Muslim-majority countries were run by conserva-
tive secular rulers or radical socialist and nationalist leaders, this view
remained dominant.5 The fact that most early expressions of Islamic ac-
tivism had largely retreated to the margins of society by the mid-1960s
appeared to give more weight to this perspective.
By the mid-1980s, however, following a number of events—the revolu-
tion in Iran, the Sadat assassination, and the launch of religious resistance
movements in Afghanistan, Lebanon, and the Palestinian territories—
analysts and scholars were at a loss to explain the rise of religious activism
in large parts of the Muslim world. They termed the new phenomenon
the “Islamic resurgence” and set out to depict it as a temporary expression
of frustration and disillusionment with nationalist projects, a product of
Introduction 5
the stagnation and underdevelopment afflicting many Muslim societies

and an outgrowth of the uneasy tension between tradition and modernity.
Ultimately, it was decided, there was some essential quality about Islam
that prevented its societies from breaking free from the past and embrac-
ing the present.6 Considerable ink was spilled in attempting to uncover
the aspects of Islamic history, culture, and thought that would contribute
to the rise of an Islamic response to modernity. In any case, this phenom-
enon was still largely viewed as an aberration, a detour from the unrelent-
ing march of modernization and progress.
But then something strange happened. By the early 1990s, a new trend
had emerged that saw Islamic movements transformed from voices of op-
position on the margins to permanent fixtures of society. They became
mainstream political trends, competing for elections and gaining power
in legitimate fashion. They utilized modern political institutions and tac-
tics. This could be seen in places like Algeria, Pakistan, Malaysia, Turkey,
Lebanon, Jordan, Sudan and Egypt. No longer were scholars talking about
an “Islamic resurgence,” but rather “political Islam,” a phrase that became
the buzzword of this period. Writers attempted to temper their earlier as-
sessments by exploring whether this unlikely union of Islam and democ-
racy was simply a temporary marriage of convenience, or whether there
could be a future in the Muslim world that embraced both modernity,
with all that accompanies it, and traditional Islamic values and political
principles.7
By the beginning of the century, it appeared that many of these ex-
periments had failed. As Islamist gains were turned back in a number of
Muslim countries, scholars began to speak of an age of “post-Islamism.”8
Additionally, Islamic activism had increasingly taken on a shape com-
pletely on the fringes of society, and through a hybrid with advanced tech-
nological means and an outlook that transcended the state, had begun to
express itself on a global scale, and with increasing militancy. To some,
it seemed that events had come full circle. With slight adjustments to the
earlier thesis and a few methodological advancements, such as the study
of “human development” as a quantitative analytical category, the original
assessment of Islamic movements as a rejection of modernity and the es-
tablished state system seemed appropriate in the wake of Al-Qaeda’s rise
to prominence.9
This paradigm was problematic for a number of reasons. First, it failed
to assess these movements on their own terms, and to utilize the his-
torical and political contexts to explain their origins, their aspirations,
and their methods. It could not separate particular political grievances

from this notion of a larger rejection of modernity. Furthermore, it did
not take into account the world as seen through the eyes of those involved
in these movements. Rather than looking at these phenomena as isolated
aberrations, or interruptions within the broad march of modernity, it is
more useful to observe them within the context of a larger process at
work in much of the Muslim world since the late nineteenth century. This
intellectual current sought to explain the decline of Islamic civilization,
to reconcile Islam and modernity, to respond to European imperialism
and Western hegemony, and ultimately, to tend to the crisis of leader-
ship in the Muslim world resulting from the collapse of the caliphate,
the symbol of political and religious authority for thirteen centuries of
Islamic history.
Thinkers, scholars, and intellectuals, like Jamal al-Din al-Afghani,
Muhammad Abduh, and Rashid Rida, contemplated these questions at
the turn of the century and through the early period of independence.
Activists like Hasan al-Banna and Mawlana Mawdudi founded popular
organizations to promote a social and political agenda within their respec-
tive contexts. In Banna’s case, the Muslim Brotherhood was an expression
of the loss of the Islamic state, the advent of foreign encroachment, and
the desire for an Islamic character for the developing Egyptian state.
In response to these problematic approaches, in the early 2000s, a
number of scholars began to apply social movement theory (SMT), a theo-
retical subfield employed in the study of Western movements, to the study
of Islamic movements for the first time.10 Three subsets of SMT guide
the analysis that follows, allowing the study to consider the major factors
involved in the development of the 1970s Islamic social movement.
The examination of political opportunity structures seeks to explain
“the emergence of a particular social movement on the basis of changes
in the institutional structure or informal power relations of a given na-
tional political system.”11 By focusing on external factors, as opposed
to isolating grievances, this approach helps to explain why in some in-
stances movements formed around a given issue, while in others they
did not.12
Defined as “those collective vehicles, informal as well as formal,
through which people mobilize and engage in collective action,” the study
of mobilizing structures draws heavily from two theoretical schools, re-
source mobilization theory and the political process model.13 It is observed
through what Charles Tilly and Sidney Tarrow referred to as repertoires of
Introduction 7
contention, “existing performances from an array chosen by the actors” in

an attempt to explain and perhaps even predict collective behavior.14 The
means by which mobilization is acted upon is dependent upon a “toolkit”
that contains familiar modes of collective action.
Resource mobilization frequently occurs through formal structures,
such as religious institutions, nongovernmental organizations, profes-
sional or student associations, and political parties.15 But it can also occur
through the course of informal networks and social relationships. In
fact, Quintan Wiktorowicz made the case that Islamic movements are
best studied as informal networks, since they are rarely constituted as
formal organizations recognized by their governments.16 This presents a
challenge for researchers of Islamic movements, since the official record
rarely offers a complete picture of the group in question. Even the Muslim
Brotherhood, which maintains a formal organizational structure, relies
heavily on informal networks to mobilize its followers.
The third subset of SMT is cultural framing processes, defined as “the
conscious strategic efforts by groups of people to fashion shared under-
standings of the world and of themselves that legitimate and motivate
collective action.”17 By infusing the preexisting theory with a discussion
of culture and its central role, the literature on framing provides the logi-
cal bridge between political opportunities and mobilizing structures. It is
also an essential tool for defining the role of religion within a social move-
ment in a field that has not traditionally shown religious movements the
same treatment as their secular counterparts.
In SMT, the use of cultural symbols, historical narratives, and shared
experiences is understood as intended to appeal to individuals outside the
movement, motivating them to join its mission. Collective action frames
are identified within three categories: diagnostic, prognostic, and motiva-
tional frames.18 Diagnostic frames identify grievances, usually directed
toward the state or social elites. Prognostic frames articulate the solution
in an accessible manner, aiming to attract a large following. Finally, mo-
tivational frames provide the “call to arms,” the rationale for taking cor-
rective action.19
Within the context of this burgeoning field of methodological re-
search, the Islamic movement in Egypt during the 1970s emerges as a
ripe subject for investigation. The political climate of the period does
not simply offer the backdrop against which the developments in society
were occurring. Rather, the Sadat regime was a key actor in the rise of the
Islamic movement, whether by consciously creating the political space to
allow the growth of a religious trend, or by constricting its movements,

thereby pushing many of its members to the margins of society, where
they would wreak havoc in the form of violent contention against the
regime.
Similarly, the rise of a distinct religious movement characterized by
its youth and dynamism facilitated the development of innovative mo-
bilization structures. Reflecting a new protest culture and an unprece-
dented ability to operate within important institutions such as the student
unions, this movement also proved able to adapt to pressures from a
“mother” movement in the form of the Muslim Brotherhood’s return and
its subsequent efforts to co-opt the student movement. Finally, with the
exceptional openness of the Sadat era, in comparison to that of his prede-
cessor, the cultural framing activities that the Islamic movement engaged
in were unlike anything the country had witnessed since before the revo-
lution of 1952. During the course of Sadat’s presidency, the Muslim Broth-
erhood and religious student groups published books, periodicals, and
wall magazines, and produced pamphlets, cassette tapes, and banners,
all of which reflected the group’s mission and ideological outlook. Taken
together, this era presents a particularly fascinating period of study, given
the ways in which the movement’s decisions and actions interact with all
of the theoretical subsets.
An Old Call, A New Call

Though he wrote his seminal work, The Society of the Muslim Brothers,
in the late 1960s, Richard Mitchell nevertheless considered the Muslim
Brotherhood a bygone movement, with no realistic chance for regaining
its prior position in society. Mitchell’s groundbreaking historical study
concluded with Nasser’s repression of the organization in 1954. In ad-
dition to the prevailing winds of secular Arab nationalism, his study
cited the lack of a central charismatic leader and increased internal divi-
sions for the final decline of the movement. The ideology itself could
not gain any permanence because of the failure of the organization to
fulfill its stated goal of reconciling acceptable portions of modern politi-
cal thought and traditional Islamic principles. In this belief, Mitchell was
not alone. Most commentators believed the age of the Muslim Brother-
hood had long passed.20 In his 1972 review of Mitchell’s book, L. Carl
Brown argued that not only was there no possibility for the return of
the Muslim Brotherhood as an active force in Egyptian society, but that
Introduction 9
religious activism of any kind had no future role to play in the politics of
Muslim societies.21
Indeed, Mitchell’s assessment was to fall flat in the face of the events
of the 1970s, and Brown’s critique of Mitchell was to provide an accu-
rate prediction of later studies of the Muslim Brotherhood. Arguing that
Mitchell “tends to minimize the terrorist wing of the Ikhwan,” Brown
foreshadowed the increased emphasis on militancy as the basis upon
which to study Islamic activism in successive years.22 By the early 1980s,
the notion of an Islamic revival typified in the Iranian Revolution would
remove from contention the narrative of Islamic activism giving way to
secular nationalism in the linear march of history. While much scholar-
ship emerged that focused on the rise of Islamic militancy, others were
more critical of the prevailing view of an “Islamist threat” that rejected
the West, offering a more nuanced view of the revival.23
The Sadat era in the history of the Muslim Brotherhood has received
the least amount of attention by Western scholars, though it proved to be
a period of bustling activity. Briefly, various works mention that the or-
ganization reconstituted itself following the release of its members from
the prisons of Nasser; that it benefited from Sadat’s attempts to weaken
the political Left, remnants of Nasser’s failed socialist experiment; that,
under Tilmisani’s leadership, the organization operated openly, publish-
ing books and periodicals, engaging the government in public debate; and
that it ultimately reclaimed its place as the most potent opposition to the
secular regime. Yet beyond this basic skeleton, little study was done on
the mainstream Muslim Brotherhood organization of the 1970s. Instead,
the bulk of the research focused on the other major development on the
Islamic activist scene during this period: the rise of underground militant
groups.
Whereas Mitchell put forth the idea that the Muslim Brotherhood had
sought to bridge the supposed gap between Islam and modernity, another
view emerged arguing that not only did this endeavor fail, but subsequent
leaders of the movement, most notably the commentator Sayyid Qutb, had
rejected such a project as contrary to the core values of their faith. Some
of Qutb’s supporters, survivors of Nasser’s concentration camps, as Gilles
Kepel termed them, saw such an effort as not only futile, but blasphe-
mous as well. Emmanuel Sivan focused on the intellectual and ideologi-
cal development of what he termed the “New Radicalism.”24 The concepts
developed by Qutb in the mid-1960s laid the groundwork for the rise of
extremist groups, such as al-Takfir wal-Higra, a decade later. Sivan’s study
lacked a wider discussion of Qutb’s concepts within the framework of

mainstream Muslim Brotherhood thought, as articulated by Banna and
promoted by his successors.
Other writers were similarly inclined.25 By diminishing some of the
major differences between the mainstream and the fringe, it becomes
easier to understand how the bulk of the scholarship would focus on the
group of only a few thousand radicals, as opposed to the hundreds of thou-
sands of self-declared Muslim Brothers.26 This was also accomplished by
scholars altering the external character of the organization itself. Though
the Muslim Brotherhood of the 1970s remained intact as an organization,
maintaining its name, organizational structure, and hierarchy, Western
scholars chose to refer to it by other titles.27
Kepel’s historical study, published in 1984, was indicative of this ten-
dency to offer a different narrative of the Islamic movement in Egypt.28
While freely acknowledging that a major split occurred between the tradi-
tional Muslim Brotherhood and the followers of Qutb’s teachings, primar-
ily embodied in the tome Milestones, Kepel made the case that it was this
radical fringe that was the direct heir to the Muslim Brotherhood of previ-
ous generations. His work focused almost exclusively on groups emerg-
ing out of Qutb’s intellectual movement, such as al-Takfir wal-Higra and
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, while relegating Tilmisani’s Muslim Brotherhood
to only one chapter that focused on its (largely failed) attempts to compete
in what was becoming a crowded marketplace of Islamic trends.
Kepel summed up the prevailing view of the Muslim Brotherhood
by scholars of this period, juxtaposing the organization’s strong rhetoric
with its lack of an actionable program, in contrast to the fringe movement,
which supposedly offered a more accessible platform. He argued that
“by deliberately opting for moderation” the Muslim Brotherhood under
Tilmisani failed to capture the essence of Banna’s mission, and with that,
could never recapture its place in Egyptian society.29
This dominant narrative did not go unchallenged. A number of schol-
ars issued their response to the resurgent Islam paradigm.30 John Voll
argued for the need to expand the scope of scholarship on Islamic move-
ments beyond narrow political considerations to their historical causes.
He wrote that the Islamic movement of this era “is a response to the par-
ticular conditions of the late twentieth century and must be seen in the
context of the conflicts and challenges of the modern world. At the same
time, it is also part of the historical experience of renewal within Muslim
societies over the centuries.”31
Introduction 11
Even Mitchell contributed to the growing critique, challenging the pe-

riodization of the Islamic resurgence prevalent in the literature. These
studies, which placed the origins of the Islamic resurgence in the after-
math of the Six Day War, were once again too narrowly defined. “Thus
the events of 1967 and 1973 should be seen as moments intensifying a
long-term ongoing historical process. It does not make analytical sense to
regard the events in the Middle East commonly referred to as the Islamic
resurgence as a response to crises so narrowly defined as the 1967 defeat
or, paradoxically, the ‘victory’ of 1973.”32
Nonetheless, no major studies emerged during the successive period
that examined the recent history of the Muslim Brotherhood following
the events of 1954. Some scholars made mention of the development of
the movement, citing the intellectual and organizational continuity fol-
lowing Banna’s assassination and the rise of new leaders. The successor
to Banna, Hasan al-Hudaybi, confronted the challenges from within the
organization and safeguarded its mission as a primarily da‘wa-oriented
movement. “For Hudaybi and the other old-guard Brotherhood leaders,
the problem was that Egyptians needed to be educated and called to the
faith, not that Egyptians had ceased to be Muslims. Hudaybi rejected
the practice of takfir, thereby rejecting the rationale for active revolu-
tion.”33 Voll emphasized the continuity from Banna’s original vision
to the reformist, nonviolent goals pursued by the reconstituted move-
ment that even saw fit to incorporate elements of Qutb’s thought into
its mission.34
As proponents of this narrative became increasingly vocal, a number of
recent studies on the Muslim Brotherhood have ushered in a new period
of scholarship over the last two decades. These works have shifted from
the paradigm of resurgent Islam to examining the Islamic movement on
its own terms, free of the ideological underpinnings that marked prior
efforts.35 Moreover, an increasing number of studies in recent years have
utilized the theoretical tools offered by SMT in the study of the Islamic
movement in Egypt. Collectively, these works have advanced a different
view of the Muslim Brotherhood as an organization that addresses the
needs of a modern, middle-class polity in Egyptian society.36
Two important developments will inform the emerging literature
on this movement. First, the abundance of newly available source ma-
terial will allow for more thorough historical accounts of the Muslim
Brotherhood, with a potential for revising the current narrative. Second,
the increasing interaction between scholars of Islamic movements and
proponents of SMT will provide valuable tools for analysis of this and
other groups in the Islamic world.
Tracing a Movement
This historical study examines the rise of a religious social movement in
Egypt during the period 1968–1981. While it utilizes the methodological
tools provided by social movement theory, it is ultimately rooted in the
desire to uncover and explain the past. Historical studies of social move-
ments can fall short without the theoretical construct to contextualize and
explain events and developments. By that same token, as Tilly explained,
the study of social movements is rendered deficient without identifying
the historical underpinnings of these social phenomena. He wrote:
History helps because it explains why social movements incor-

porated some crucial features (for example, the disciplined street
march) that separated the social movement from other sorts of poli-
tics. History also helps because it identifies significant change in
the operation of social movements (for example, the emergence of
well-financed professional staffs and organizations specializing in
the pursuit of social movement programs) and thus alerts us to the
possibility of new changes in the future. History helps, finally, be-
cause it calls attention to the shifting political conditions that made
social movements possible.37
As a social history, this study takes social movements as its basic unit of
analysis.38 In the Egyptian context, two main social movements at work
during the 1970s are examined in detail: the student movement and the
Islamic movement. The student movement comprised the generation of
Egyptian youth who entered the universities from the late 1960s to the
early 1980s and pursued social and political activism. The student move-
ment had no distinct ideological orientation, though at various moments
it was populated heavily by, and featured the leadership of, leftists as well
as Islamists. The Islamic movement, on the other hand, was not made up
of a particular social segment, but was distinct in its all-encompassing
ideological orientation.
Although they were by no means identical, for a brief historical
moment, the student movement and the Islamic movement converged.
With the absence of a significant presence of Islamic activists due to the
Introduction 13
period of repression instituted by the Nasser regime, and with the rise to
power of the religiously motivated contingent within the student move-
ment, the Islamic movement was, for all purposes, based in the student
movement, and for its part, the student movement experienced a homog-
enization under self-assured Islamic leadership.
During the course of this study, several social movement organiza-
tions are considered for analysis, not the least of which is the Muslim
Brotherhood, the dominant organization within the Islamic movement
which, during this period, found itself in the rare situation of having to
contend with new groups that staked their claim for authority. Similarly,
the student movement featured numerous groups, including some with
a decidedly religious orientation, such as Shabab al-Islam and al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya. Historically, it was a rare occurrence when an organization
could successfully take command over an entire movement, a lesson that
the youth leaders of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya would learn during the course
of their activism.
By exploring the recent historical experiences of the Islamic move-
ment and the student movement, Chapter 1 sets the stage for the ensuing
discussion of these movements during the late 1960s and early 1970s.
Picking up where Mitchell’s study leaves off, the role of the Muslim
Brotherhood in the 1952 Free Officers Revolution is examined from the
perspective of key actors from the Muslim Brotherhood and the nascent
revolutionary regime. Following the total breakdown in relations and the
subsequent era of political repression, the Muslim Brotherhood was out-
lawed and disbanded as an organization, but through informal networks
that existed within the prison system, its intellectual program continued
to evolve and progress.
It is noteworthy that Sayyid Qutb, one of the most prolific figures in
the Islamic movement, wrote the bulk of his commentaries at a time
when the Muslim Brotherhood did not exist in its traditional form. The
collapse of its organizational structure and the effects of regime repres-
sion brought about a crisis in thought, during which a minority faction as-
serted a new interpretation of the Muslim Brotherhood mission, founded
upon the language of resistance that Qutb employed. The internal debate
that followed featured the reassertion of the original Muslim Brotherhood
da‘wa, redefined in opposition to the emerging militant discourse.
Translated as “mission” or “call,” an examination of the concept of
da‘wa is critical for a proper understanding of the Muslim Brotherhood’s
ideological and organizational development. While it traditionally referred
1 4 a ns w er ing t he c a l l
to the process of calling others to the Islamic faith, the term was redefined
in the early period of the modern Islamic movement to denote calling
others from within the faith, who were thought to have been negligent
with regard to fulfilling basic religious obligations. With the spread of the
Muslim Brotherhood’s organization under Banna’s leadership, the da‘wa
came to be regarded as the process of spreading the Muslim Brotherhood’s
program and recruiting outsiders to join in its mission. Finally, following
the intellectual schism brought about by Qutb’s supporters, who sought to
legitimize violent contention against the state, Hudaybi attempted to put
the matter to rest by reemphasizing the role of the Islamic activist as one
of caller, not judge. The concept of da‘wa continued to evolve throughout
the 1970s, when it was employed to raise awareness of the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s mission among a new generation, while also distinguishing the
organization from other factions within the Islamic movement that had
abandoned the call in favor of isolation and militancy.
Parallel to the developments within the Islamic movement, this chap-
ter also addresses the rich legacy of student activism in the pre-revolution-
ary era, when Egyptian youth made up an important base of all political
parties and factions and helped to shape the outcome of political crises
through direct action campaigns. Although the student movement was
subject to the same political repression that afflicted all independent
social forces after the revolution, it ultimately proved to be the most resil-
ient. Led primarily by leftist students, it was the first opposition force to
emerge after the 1967 war, awakening the nation by leading the massive
popular protests of 1968, and paving the way for its permanent return as
a social movement actor.
Finally, Chapter 1 charts the political landscape in Egypt on the eve of
Sadat’s accession to the presidency. The failure of Nasser’s project, cul-
minated by the 1967 defeat, ushered in a new era of politics in Egypt, a
development with major implications for the resumption of Islamic activ-
ism on a large scale.
The impact of the state’s shift in policy could be observed very early in
the Sadat period, through an examination of an oft-forgotten organization
that signaled the return of Islamic activism in Egypt. Shabab al-Islam, the
subject of Chapter 2, emerged from the open space actively cultivated and
promoted by the Sadat regime. It advanced a broadly Islamized social and
political program, articulated generally in the Islamic modernist tradi-
tion. Based on the excitement and widespread support generated by this
organization, it proved to be a breath of fresh air for the public expression
Introduction 15
of an Islamic political program and a frame of reference after two decades

in which such talk was taboo.
Through its debates, conferences, and publications, Shabab al-Islam
infused the public discourse with discussions on the place of religion in
the state and society. The group’s leaders were also determined to engage
in contentious politics, joining in the student protests of 1972–1973, and
agitating for democratic reforms and a war to liberate occupied lands.
While the organization was also notable for its strong opposition to the
leftist trend dominant within the student movement, a position that won
it favor with some regime officials, the manner in which it conducted its
activism embodied the spirit of the radical politics associated with the
Nasser era. The organization ultimately succumbed to internal structural
weaknesses and external pressures, but it proved to be a sign of things to
come, as the rise of a potent Islamic movement, led by the return of the
Muslim Brotherhood, was not far behind.
When Sadat decided in 1971 to free the Muslim Brotherhood leaders
and members from Nasser’s prisons, he could not have envisioned the
vigor with which the organization would return by the end of the decade.
But based on the internal discussions of the group at the time, neither
could its leaders. Chapter 3 details the early attempts at reconstituting the
Muslim Brotherhood following a change in regime and with it, a change
in policy toward the political opposition. Indeed, external factors played a
critical role in shaping the debate around the organization’s return. An in-
creasingly crowded field of Islamic activism featured groups that offered
alternative programs to the traditional Muslim Brotherhood mission,
while Sadat attempted to throw his hat into the ring as well, by appropri-
ating religious rhetoric and pledging to build a state based on “science
and faith.”
Internally, the Muslim Brotherhood had just consolidated its intel-
lectual position vis-à-vis the rising militant fringe. Senior figures in the
group then reached a compromise decision to stake their claim for leader-
ship of the Islamic movement, but also to disavow any aspirations for a
clandestine unit within the organization. Before the Muslim Brotherhood
could spread its traditional da‘wa, however, the group’s leaders had to con-
tend with more practical challenges of readapting to a changed society.
Following Hudaybi’s death in 1973, Tilmisani emerged as his successor,
pledging himself to transmit the message of the Muslim Brotherhood to a
new generation that would make up the energetic base of the organization
and the future of the da‘wa.
Completely independent of the Muslim Brotherhood’s attempts to re-

constitute its organization, a process that would only gain momentum
after 1975, a vibrant Islamic student movement was already making waves
within Egypt’s colleges and universities. Building on the failed attempts
by Shabab al-Islam to establish a lasting presence of religiously based ac-
tivism on campuses, a new class of students, representing the fruits of
Sadat’s push to expand education to the urban poor and rural areas in
greater numbers, developed a fresh Islamic student organization. Chapter
4 chronicles the rise of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya through the students who
built it. It traces the process of their intellectual discovery and the develop-
ment of the group’s religious mission.
Featuring a confluence of ideological trends from within the Islamic
movement and an organic process of building the organization, al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya experienced considerable success, taking hold of student
unions across the country, thereby institutionalizing its gains and secur-
ing access to resources essential for the perpetuation of the group’s beliefs
and programs. The leaders of the youth movement became notable not
only for the effective promotion of the da‘wa as they understood it, but
also for the development of a distinct culture of activism representative
of the new Islamic student movement. Internally, what had long been the
movement’s greatest strength—its ideological diversity and lack of a rigid
dogma—became a liability as factionalism and radicalism took hold of
some segments of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya.
Chapter 5 details the process by which the internal divisions within
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya were resolved. Coinciding with the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s reconstitution, or perhaps because of it, the dividing ideologi-
cal lines within the student movement were more clearly drawn, with a
majority of its leadership, especially at the senior level, making the deci-
sion to join the Muslim Brotherhood as members. Espousing support for
the Salafi and jihadi trends, the minorities within al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya
were gradually marginalized, with some even branching off into indepen-
dent organizations, or managing to wrest control of local chapters of the
student organization from the hands of the Muslim Brotherhood’s sup-
porters, especially in upper Egypt.
For its part, the Muslim Brotherhood’s leadership proved extremely
adept at recruiting the next generation of Islamic activists to join its
ranks. In promoting the concept of tawrith al-da‘wa, or bequeathing the
call, Tilmisani and other senior figures relied on the Muslim Brother-
hood’s rich history on the front lines of the struggle for the promotion
Introduction 17
of Islam, as well as its ability to convey a complete program, respond to

competing trends, and demonstrate flexibility in its views. Once the intel-
lectual congruity was reached, during the course of countless meetings,
lectures, camps, and conferences, the parties moved closer to organiza-
tional coordination, and ultimately, the organizational structure of the
Muslim Brotherhood was rebuilt. The student leaders made up the base
of the newly reestablished Muslim Brotherhood, which by the close of the
decade, had proved to be a major thorn in the side of the Sadat regime.
Based in its safe haven within the universities, the Muslim Brotherhood’s
student members and their elders from the organization pursued an
active agenda of opposition to Sadat’s policies, from the peace treaty with
Israel to the government’s refusal to institute provisions of Islamic law.
Examining the critical issues around which the Muslim Brotherhood
organized its activism in the second half of the 1970s, Chapter 6 isolates
the organization’s chief publication, al-Da‘wa magazine, for a discus-
sion on cultural framing. The monthly periodical was a focal point of
the group’s activities, bridging the generational divide by publishing com-
mentaries by senior group leaders and articles by student reporters. It
featured the active construction of the Muslim Brotherhood’s da‘wa for
the next generation, detailing not only the group’s grand vision for an
Egypt that fulfilled the tenets of Islam, but also its reaction to current
events and a thorough appraisal of government policies. The magazine
proved doubly effective, generating a mass audience of readers, as well as
earning the ire of Sadat, who railed on the magazine’s content in a speech
before parliament, then resolved to shut down its operations permanently.
Tensions were heightened during a series of confrontations, ultimately
leading to Sadat taking authoritarian measures against the rising voices
of dissent. But by the time Sadat decided to clamp down on all opposition
in 1981, arresting figures from the Muslim Brotherhood, young and old
alike, the successful reconstitution of the organization ensured that the
da‘wa would be preserved into the next era of Egyptian history.
1
The Islamic Movement on the Eve

of Sadat
There are few events in contemporary Middle East history that can
be said to have single-handedly transformed the course of the region’s
future as did the Six Day War of June 1967. The naksa, or setback, as it
came to be known, reinforced the initial defeat at the hands of Israel two
decades earlier, and destroyed the mighty pillar of Nasserism that had
captivated Arab audiences since 1952. The ideologies of Arab nationalism
and socialism, upon which an entire regional project had been built, were
thoroughly discredited once their prime objective of liberating Arab lands
and defeating Zionism proved too tall an order. As for the man himself,
Egyptian president Gamal Abdel Nasser’s rhetorical power and mythic
persona were no match for the glaring reality on the ground: Israel had
occupied Arab lands in every direction, more than doubling in size, and
had delivered a fatal blow to the militaries of its most powerful adversar-
ies. Millions of Egyptians would take to the streets in support of their
president’s continued leadership, but as one Egyptian would later write of
Nasser, “he may have been buried on September 28, 1970, but he died on
June 5, 1967.”1
Nasser’s demise exposed the deep-seated weaknesses of Egypt’s revo-
lutionary regime. It lacked independent social movements and was devoid
of free intellectual development. It possessed no civil society institutions
offering competing political ideologies to fill the void left by the collapse
of the Nasserist project. The vacuum that emerged in the wake of 1967
was to be filled by a number of underdeveloped political trends represent-
ing mostly recycled platforms, several of which predated the revolution.
As a result, Nasser’s final years and the early period of Anwar al-Sadat’s
The Islamic Movement on the Eve of Sadat 19
presidency, already notable for the absence of a distinct ideological orien-

tation, featured no sufficient substitute for the failed policies of old.
Although it has been argued that regional and international pressures
dominated Nasser’s decision-making process after the war, domestic con-
siderations also played a significant role.2 However, it was not the liberal,
Marxist, or Islamic political movements that exerted their influence over
the suddenly weakened regime, for they had all been systematically re-
pressed by Nasser early in his presidency. Rather, it was a revitalized stu-
dent movement, having no particular political affiliation, which presented
the most immediate challenge to the state. Throughout the course of the
late 1960s and into the early 1970s, student activism represented the prin-
cipal force of political opposition, paving the way for the emergence of dis-
tinct ideological trends, most notably in a revitalized Islamic movement.
This chapter begins with a brief discussion of the political trends that
existed in the early period of the revolution, illustrating the ways in which
the Free Officers dealt with them, with a particular emphasis on the fate of
the Islamic movement as represented by the Muslim Brotherhood. With
the ban on all independent political activity under Nasser, these forces
disappeared from the scene. Different aspects of the young regime’s re-
lationship with the Muslim Brotherhood are highlighted to demonstrate
that the two powerful political forces were at once intimately familiar with
one another through their early partnership, and yet deeply distrustful as
a result of divergent visions and the mutual desire for political supremacy.
The thread of regime involvement continues as we explore the internal
evolution of the Muslim Brotherhood’s program, as Nasser became both
an unwitting accessory (through his repressive policies) to the shift away
from ideological moderation and a willing collaborator (through his pro-
motion of religious officials) in the Muslim Brotherhood’s effort to reas-
sert its missionary roots.
After describing the state of the Islamic movement during the twilight
of the Nasser era, the next section examines the legacy of student activ-
ism, which dates back to the days before independence, when Egypt was
still fighting for an end to British rule. In order to better understand the
rise of student activism, it is essential to expound on the profile of the
educational system, along with the goals and modes of mass mobiliza-
tion. Despite its rich tradition, the student movement was also subjected
to severe repression during the Nasser regime, but it possessed a quality
that no other movements could claim: the ability to operate from within
an existing state institution, the Egyptian system of education.
The final section explores how the movement re-emerged onto the
landscape of political activity after the Six Day War, witnessed in the
1968 student revolt, the first action of its kind in decades. Contrary to
the prevailing notion that the national response to the war exposed ideo-
logical cleavages within Egypt, the student movement was notable for the
unity that it demonstrated, along with the lack of a distinct ideological
orientation—at least in its earliest stages. It would not be until several
years later that the student movement would witness the rise of an Isl-
amically oriented trend within the student movement, symbolized in the
organization Shabab al-Islam (The Youth of Islam). What all of the dis-
cussions in this chapter aim to do is provide the historical context for the
Sadat era in modern Egyptian political history, drawing attention to some
of its most salient features. By elucidating the motivations and actions of
the newly politicized population in the late 1960s, the stage is then set to
explore the rise of a reenergized Islamic movement that came to define
Egyptian oppositional politics throughout the decade that followed.
Free Officers and Repressive Politics

On July 23, 1952, a group whom Baker refers to as “fundamentally non-
ideological, elitist military conspirators” swept to power by overthrowing
the Egyptian monarchy in a largely nonviolent coup d’état.3 While the Free
Officers Revolution is known for its vehement rejection of a status quo
characterized by a failing liberal political system, a discredited monarchy,
and an unpopular foreign occupation, it is also notable for its opposition
to the existing alternatives, whether from the Left or the Right. Inasmuch
as the Free Officers aspired to overthrow a corrupt ruler backed by an
oppressive colonial enterprise, they also sensed the revolutionary winds
blowing from within the depths of society, representing political factions
that had gradually become more radicalized with the near collapse of the
liberal regime. So not only did the coup claim to be saving Egypt from
foreign domination, but in essence, it was also saving Egyptians from
themselves.
In spite of the fact that the clandestine military group maintained
strong contacts with leaders of all political factions representing the spec-
trum of ideologies, including Young Egypt, the Wafd Party, the Marxists,
and the Muslim Brotherhood, the core of the Free Officers were enor-
mously distrustful of the political trends. It came as no surprise then, that
less than six months after the revolution, the Revolutionary Command
Council (RCC), the makeshift body that had assumed control of the gov-
ernment, ordered the dissolution of all political parties. It was Anwar al-
Sadat who oversaw the tribunal that attempted to rid the country of the
pre-revolutionary political forces permanently. In addition to dismantling
all independent political parties, this move had the added effect of de-
bilitating intellectual life in Egypt, a change that would have profound
effects two decades later, as Sadat attempted to build his legitimacy as
president. The only exemption to this political clampdown was given to
a small group that surrounded Nasser and helped cultivate his ideas and
affirm his legitimacy. Muhammad Hassanein Heikal, a prominent jour-
nalist and intellectual, is most emblematic of this group.
Although he maintained a leftist and revolutionary character, Nasser
demonstrated little tolerance for communists in Egypt, and his relation-
ship with the Soviet Union was a complicated one, full of suspicions of its
intentions toward Egypt and dissatisfaction with its inadequate aid when
compared to that of US support for Israel. Upon the exclusion of com-
munists as well as liberals, who embodied the failures of the parliamen-
tary regime and faced charges of elitism and cooperating with Egypt’s
enemies, the state’s sights were set on the Muslim Brotherhood, the re-
maining freestanding social movement with the ability to pose signifi-
cant opposition to the revolution.
From Potential Partners to Outlawed Opposition

The story of the Muslim Brotherhood’s brief honeymoon with and
subsequent persecution at the hands of the RCC has been recounted
in many places. In spite of the incomplete facts and at times contra-
dictory accounts, there are several aspects of these events that are of
direct relevance to the discussion of the Islamic movement’s resurgence
in the 1970s. For one, the first three presidents of Egypt, Muhammad
Naguib, Gamal Abdel Nasser, and Anwar al-Sadat, all had personal rela-
tionships and experiences with the Muslim Brotherhood, which directly
impacted the decisions they made in dealing with the group. For its part,
the Muslim Brotherhood’s leadership in the early 1950s exposed its in-
ability to address basic questions such as its desired relationship with
the state and the nature of its internal structure. The events of the criti-
cal years of 1952–1954 turned what was initially a fursa, or opportunity,
into a mihna, or ordeal, with consequences that reverberated long after
Nasser’s death.
Upon ridding the new regime of the secular opposition, Nasser turned
his attention to the Islamic movement and its chief representative, the
Muslim Brotherhood. There is widespread disagreement among scholars
as to whether Nasser deliberately devised a “divide and conquer” strategy
to neutralize his political rivals, or whether circumstances eventually ne-
cessitated the clampdown on the Muslim Brotherhood. What is known is
that the RCC was in need of the Muslim Brotherhood’s support in order to
survive the uncertainty of the first two years, while the Muslim Brother-
hood was eager to take advantage of the new political space to advance its
own program.
In gauging the Muslim Brotherhood’s support for revolutionary action
prior to the coup by the Free Officers, Mitchell emphasized that the pic-
ture was rather mixed. 4 As with many social movements that encompass
an array of classes, the views of the Muslim Brotherhood’s members on
this issue generally reflected their social standing. Hasan al-Hudaybi, for
instance, came from a respected lineage and enjoyed a successful career
as a judge under the liberal regime, and as such was not receptive to the
idea of overthrowing the existing system. Other figures, however, such as
Salih al-‘Ashmawi and ‘Abd al-Rahman al-Sanadi, already leading mem-
bers of the Muslim Brotherhood’s Secret Apparatus, were far more open
to working with the military conspirators. Actual contacts between the
Free Officers and the Muslim Brotherhood date back to over a decade
prior to the revolution. In 1940, prior to joining the group that was to
become the Free Officers, Sadat met Hasan al-Banna. Soon thereafter, he
became acquainted with ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim ‘Abd al-Ra’uf, a Muslim Broth-
erhood member and military officer who participated in subversive activi-
ties. ‘Abd al-Ra’uf continued to work with both groups, eventually joining
the Free Officers and becoming the strongest advocate for the Muslim
Brotherhood within its ranks.5 Another disaffected military officer and
Muslim Brotherhood member, Mahmoud Labib, met with Nasser in 1944
and addressed him passionately about the need for dramatic changes in
Egypt. Mitchell contended that this meeting was responsible for orienting
Nasser toward planning the coup.
In fact, Mitchell rightly pointed out that reports of such high-level con-
tacts were later buried in order to create a historical record that minimized
the Muslim Brotherhood’s role in the coup. Early records of the meetings
between Nasser and the Muslim Brotherhood, such as the one detailing
the critical 1944 encounter, were created prior to the falling out between
Hudaybi and the Nasser regime.6 By contrast, Sadat’s memoirs, published
several years after the purge of the Muslim Brotherhood, diminished the
role played by its leadership in the revolution. Sadat was appointed by the
revolutionary committee as the liaison with the Muslim Brotherhood and
met regularly with Banna, whom he lauded as “a theologian with a sense
of reality, a man of religion who recognized the existence of facts.”7 In
spite of his personal admiration for the Muslim Brotherhood’s charis-
matic leader, Sadat stressed the group’s failure to live up to its promise
of joining the military collaborators in their plot to overthrow the cor-
rupt and subservient Wafdist government during a critical juncture at the
height of World War II. Moreover, he characterized the Muslim Brother-
hood in the aftermath of the revolution as “an organization of unbounded
fanaticism, and a menace to public order.”8
Regardless of whether these historical interactions were framed with
political considerations in mind, their significance lies in demonstrating
the extent of the relationship between two important forces in Egypt in
the critical time before and after the revolution. Sadat wrote that the Free
Officers believed that “the Brotherhood was a powerful group, and the
only one with which we could safely cooperate in the difficult years which
lay ahead. It was vital that we should strengthen our position by such
alliances.”9 In laying out the events that preceded the coup, Sadat empha-
sized that the military officers were cautious in their relationship with the
Muslim Brotherhood, describing the cooperation between the two as “at
best a makeshift affair; soon there were frequent clashes and misunder-
standings.”10 He continued in this vein, laying down the gauntlet with his
description of the events that resulted in the final break between the two
groups in the aftermath of the revolution:
The Revolutionary Council’s first action after the coup d’etat was
to pardon the Brotherhood, believing that its members had suffi-
ciently expiated their crimes. This generosity was ill-rewarded, for
the Brothers whom we had rehabilitated and given a fresh chance
in life, turned against us savagely.11
Before moving on, it is necessary to investigate the drastic transformation

of the relationship between the Free Officers and the Muslim Brother-
hood. In spite of Sadat’s simplistic characterization of the tenuous part-
nership as one of benevolence repaid with betrayal, the relationship was
far more complex. It involved common causes, from the nationalist strug-
gle against foreign hegemony and political corruption to the regional war
for Palestine. It included powerful personalities, from Naguib and Nasser,

to Banna and Hudaybi. Ultimately, however, it succumbed to conflicting
interests between the two parties, whether it was over the targets for re-
cruitment, which frequently overlapped due to the Muslim Brotherhood’s
interest in spreading within the military, the negotiations with the British
for their withdrawal from Egypt (which both sides pursued separately), or
the right to determine the nation’s future, which exposed deeply diverg-
ing visions for Egypt.
Hasan al-Banna’s sudden death in early 1949 was a watershed event
in the relationship between the Muslim Brotherhood and the emerging
opposition within the military. In addition to the previously recounted
high-level meetings between leaders in both camps, the two fought side
by side in the Palestine war in 1948, where the Muslim Brotherhood’s
volunteer corps performed admirably to such an extent that its heroics
were recounted by members of the Free Officers. As late as 1949, Nasser
himself spoke openly in defense of the Muslim Brotherhood during an
interrogation by the prime minister regarding Nasser’s political affilia-
tions.12 Earlier that same year, however, Banna was killed in a wave of
political violence that swept Egypt. His organization was held responsible
for several of those attacks, and an era of mistrust of the Muslim Brother-
hood by the Free Officers, the presumptive keepers of order, began. While
the organization’s fallen leader was largely exempted from the accusations
of supporting violence, his successor was viewed with suspicion by Nasser
and his comrades.
As a long-standing member of the Egyptian elite, Hudaybi was al-
ready unpopular among the revolutionary officers and their sympathizers
within the Muslim Brotherhood. However, several incidents accelerated
the demise in the relationship. The first involved the Muslim Brother-
hood’s role in the revolution of July 23, 1952. Mitchell recounted that, with
the exception of a few members, the Muslim Brotherhood was largely
in the dark about the specifics of the coup. Even ‘Abd al-Ra’uf, to this
point a central figure in both movements, was excluded from the Execu-
tive Committee of the Free Officers in the months prior to the coup. In
fact, the Free Officers kept the entire Muslim Brotherhood organization at
bay, reserving its role primarily for contingency plans in the event of the
coup’s failure or the breakdown of civil order.13 Hudaybi was not known
to have had any personal knowledge of the coup in the days leading up
to it. Whereas the overwhelming majority of Egyptians immediately
welcomed the revolution, Hudaybi’s offense was in waiting a full three
days to officially recognize the new regime. Conveniently for many of his
critics, Hudaybi’s July 26 statement followed the king’s abdication of his
throne, signaling the official end of the old regime and the beginning of
revolutionary politics in Egypt.
The Muslim Brotherhood’s perceived lukewarm reception of the revo-
lution was an early sign of the mistrust that would continue to build over
the next few years, culminating in the dramatic events of the Manchiyya
incident in 1954. Despite the Muslim Brotherhood’s characterization of
the new regime as “our revolution,” the contending visions for the future
of Egypt would become apparent just days after the RCC dismissed the
parliament and attempted to form its own cabinet. The Muslim Brother-
hood’s desire for a government based on Islamic principles was quietly
sidelined by the RCC, whose sole gesture toward the group was to offer
three cabinet posts, upon Nasser’s approval of the candidates. This story
(with its many versions) has been recounted in several scholarly sources.14
Resulting from this tense encounter was the expulsion of Ahmed Hasan
al-Baquri from the Muslim Brotherhood following his acceptance of a
cabinet post with the RCC. The power struggle between the two groups
played out in this episode, as the Free Officers, achieving firm control over
the new government, blocked Hudaybi’s cabinet choices and effectively
limited the role of the Muslim Brotherhood, which claimed to be the sole
remaining voice representing the Egyptian people.
These events also exposed the internal challenges to Hudaybi from
within the Muslim Brotherhood, as he was accused of frequently acting
without the approval of the Guidance Council and alienating his organi-
zation from the new government at the expense of those elements within
the group’s leadership that desired a more meaningful partnership with
the RCC. Although the damage done by this incident was not irreparable,
Mitchell argued that it nonetheless changed the nature of the relation-
ship, as the two forces grew further apart. He wrote that, “the feelings of
the regime towards the Society remained positive but their basis shifted
from friendship to need.”15
The next major incident that affected the standing of the Muslim
Brotherhood with the new regime concerned the question of the continu-
ing British occupation. Hudaybi’s meetings with the British Embassy in
early 1953, ostensibly to negotiate the terms of a treaty ending Britain’s
presence in Egypt, roused the anger of the RCC, which felt betrayed by
the Muslim Brotherhood’s leader and undermined in its efforts to negoti-
ate a treaty on its own terms. Hudaybi claimed that he had entered the
discussions with Nasser’s blessing and only to bolster the impression of

a united front among Egypt’s various political forces. However, his voice
was drowned out by the strident agitation against the Muslim Brother-
hood taking place in the Egyptian press, along with Nasser’s exploitation
of this sensitive situation to begin the process of ridding his government
of the Muslim Brotherhood once and for all.
This process was completed the following year in dramatic fashion.
On October 26, 1954, an assassination attempt against Nasser while he
was delivering a speech in Alexandria served as the final blow to the
Muslim Brotherhood’s relationship with the regime. The perpetrator was
a member of the organization and was accused of having received his
orders from the highest levels. Following a reluctant attempt earlier in
the year to ban the Muslim Brotherhood, this time the action was decisive
and the retribution swift. Hundreds of Muslim Brotherhood members,
especially those in the organization’s leadership hierarchy, were arrested
and charged with various crimes, ranging from specific knowledge of
the plot against Nasser, to more broadly supporting sedition and counter-
revolutionary activities. The attempted assassin and five others, including
the most recent head of the Secret Apparatus, were executed shortly after
their trial. Hudaybi’s death sentence was reduced to life imprisonment.
The Muslim Brotherhood’s headquarters was ransacked and burned
by angry mobs, who only days earlier had exhibited serious misgivings
about the RCC.
The Ordeal and Its Consequences

By early 1955, the Muslim Brotherhood had entered a new phase in its
existence. With its organization outlawed, its institutions dismantled, its
rank and file members imprisoned, and its leader under house arrest,
the group founded by Hasan al-Banna less than three decades earlier
ceased to exist. It is no wonder that in the decade that followed, scholars
wrote of the Muslim Brotherhood in the past tense. Even in his semi-
nal study of the organization, Mitchell structured his chronology with
a defined beginning and end to the group.16 This was not without good
reason. An independent social organization with a broad political plat-
form was part of a bygone era of liberal parliamentary politics in Egypt
and was largely out of step with the development of authoritarian rule in
the tightly held political program of the revolutionary regime. Few would
have predicted a future for the Muslim Brotherhood in this context, and
whatever remained of the organization itself had to come to terms with

the radically altered picture.
Even at the height of Nasser’s repression, however, the remaining lead-
ership of the Muslim Brotherhood attempted to forge a new body out of
the ashes of the old organization. More recent scholarship has explored
the evolution (or regression, as the case may be) of the Islamic move-
ment during the revolutionary period, highlighting its enduring quality
even as it faced the rising tide of secular nationalist ideologies that swept
Egypt and the Arab world at large. The Muslim Brotherhood’s experience
culminated with the development of Organization 1965 and the state’s
response the following year, which once again sought to extinguish the
flames of Islamic activism that threatened the Nasser regime. In addition
to its continuing feud with the state, however, this period was also marked
by the gradual materialization of distinct ideological fault lines within
the Islamic movement. As the self-proclaimed mother organization of the
movement, the Muslim Brotherhood was forced to bear the burden of
this growing divide and to oversee the transition to a phase of competitive
trends that fought eagerly for followers and the right to determine the
future course of Islamic activism in Egypt.
By the late 1950s, the Nasser regime was at its zenith and the ideology
of Arab nationalism had galvanized populations throughout the region to
lend their support to Egypt’s project for the Arab world. This period also
marked the first wave of the state’s relaxation of security measures and re-
sulted in the release of some Muslim Brotherhood members from prison.
Almost immediately, former high-ranking members of the organization’s
leadership hierarchy set about to revive the Muslim Brotherhood, albeit
in a modest, simplified form. Members met in small groups to chart the
future of the organization, eventually seeking (and by most accounts, re-
ceiving) the blessing of General Guide Hasan al-Hudaybi, who remained
their leader, at least nominally. Zollner pointed out that the reorganization
efforts conducted by these groups, which included such figures as ‘Abd al-
Fattah Isma‘il, Shaykh Muhammad Fathi Rifa‘i, Ahmed ‘Abd al-Majid and
‘Ali al-‘Ashmawi, run counter to the prevailing narrative that the Muslim
Brotherhood revival occurred within Nasser’s prisons.17 Although there
was a significant amount of communication and coordination between
those inside and outside prison, especially through the family support
network led by Zainab al-Ghazali and the Muslim Sisterhood, the bulk
of the activities took place outside prison and was concentrated in the
urban centers of Cairo and Alexandria. There, small groups met in secret
to conduct study sessions that continued to propagate Banna’s message,

while also discussing political matters and their experiences under the
Nasser regime.
In its renewed existence, the Muslim Brotherhood was only a shadow
of its former self. While it traditionally relied on its public character to
spread its message and generate goodwill within the society at large,
the new organization maintained secrecy as its most valued quality and
limited its engagement to those with a preexisting relationship with the
group. Furthermore, it no longer sustained itself financially, but rather
relied increasingly on outside support, especially from the Gulf countries.
Finally, the traditional structural hierarchy was replaced by an ad hoc
leadership that maintained far less transparency than it had previously,
and even bypassed the general guide on many important matters. In fact,
it is during this period that Sayyid Qutb became the Muslim Brother-
hood’s most influential figure, not only on matters of ideology, but in
directing the organization’s movements as well. Although he remained
in prison until 1964, Qutb’s continued presence in the hospital wing of
Liman al-Turra ensured that he would interact with the many Muslim
Brotherhood members who passed through the hospital for treatment.18
There can be no doubt that the extreme conditions brought about by
Nasser’s pervasive security apparatus and the oppressive nature of the
prison camps stunted the growth of the Islamic movement, engendering
competing claims for authenticity based on conflicting responses to the
challenges posed by the state’s policies. When Qutb was released from
prison in 1964, he found himself the spiritual head of a burgeoning move-
ment for confrontation with the Nasser regime. The following year, before
the group could act, state security agents once again pounced on what
they perceived to be a revolt in the making, and conducted a new wave of
arrests across the country. Hundreds of Muslim Brotherhood members,
even with the most tangential connection to the alleged coup conspira-
tors, were imprisoned after a series of military trials that produced little
or no evidence. For his part in providing ideological guidance through his
written works, Qutb was sentenced to execution. The order was carried
out in August 1966.
Once again, the Muslim Brotherhood found itself in a state of complete
disarray. Its leaders had either been killed or imprisoned and its members
scattered within society, hoping to suppress any ties that would identify
them with the outlawed organization. For the moment, the Nasser regime
had thwarted every attempt to rebuild the Islamic opposition. It would
take an entire year and a cataclysmic defeat on the level of the Six Day War
to once again open the door for the Islamic movement.
Internal Debates and the Evolution of Ideas

Nasser’s policy of total repression unwittingly contributed to the con-
tinuing development of Islamic political thought, as it became an
extension of the revolutionary zeal with which he imbued Egyptian
society, as well as the severity of the measures inflicted upon the Is-
lamic movement. The trajectory of Sayyid Qutb’s career is perhaps
most emblematic of this point. Trained as an educator and writer, he
specialized in literary criticism, writing a number of commentaries on
pre-revolutionary Egyptian literature and culture early in his career.
Published in 1947, his al-‘Adala al-Ijtima‘iyya fil Islam (Social Justice in
Islam) was in its time the fullest expression of Qutb’s attempt to recon-
cile traditional Islamic values with the challenges of modern society.
Though it appeared prior to the coup by the Free Officers, the work in
many ways embodied the promise of the revolution and helped to chart
a course in which the Islamic movement could lend its credibility to the
socialist policies of the Nasser regime. In fact, it was during this period
that Qutb became editor of the Muslim Brotherhood’s official maga-
zine, propagating a message that departed from some of the traditional
rhetoric associated with the liberal era in Egyptian politics and evoking
the views of some of Qutb’s associates from among the coup conspira-
tors in the military.19
By late 1954, however, Qutb had suffered the same fate as other senior
leaders of the Muslim Brotherhood. For the next decade, he was to make
his home in the notorious Liman al-Turra. It was within this prison’s
walls that Qutb completed his magnum opus, the multivolume Fi Dhilal
al-Qur’an (In the Shade of the Qur’an). Through its sobering portrait of
modern society, it offered a reinterpretation of scripture for a different
age in which believers suffered from alienation in the expanding gulf
between their faith and the world around them. Departing from the tra-
ditional methodology for Qur’anic exegesis, Qutb’s approach attempted
to historicize the Qur’an’s chapters, looking at the Causes of Revelation
(Asbab al-Nuzul) as a means of distinguishing the earliest community of
Muslims from later generations, while at the same time drawing upon
that model to provide a “clear legal framework” to govern the lives of Mus-
lims in contemporary society.20 It was his holistic approach to Qur’anic
interpretation that allowed Qutb to adapt traditional concepts such as

jihad and jahiliyya for the modern age.
In the trajectory of Qutb’s intellectual development, the final phase
was marked by the short-lived publication of his most heavily referenced
work, Ma‘alim fil Tariq (Milestones Along the Path). Appearing for the
first time in 1964, this work earned the ire of the Nasser regime and
ultimately cost Qutb his life, as the only connection between him and
the accused conspirators of Organization 1965 was that illegal copies of
Milestones were discovered in their homes. Qutb was soon after arrested
and later executed as the alleged inspirational leader behind the coup
attempt. The book has been compared with Lenin’s What Is to Be Done,
as a tract that went beyond Qutb’s previous works, which had identified
the problems plaguing Muslim society or had outlined the solutions, by
putting forth an outright call to action.21 In examining the motivational
message of Milestones, Kepel considers it as “both an instrument for
the analysis of contemporary society and a guide for a vanguard whose
task is to inaugurate the resurrection of the Ummah. In short, it is a
manifesto.”22
Qutb’s final book was at once the culmination of his previous works
and a dramatic departure from them. It built on many of the concepts
developed in Social Justice in Islam and In the Shade of the Qur’an while
also signaling the final break, not only with Egypt’s revolution, but with
society as a whole. Though written several years prior to the 1967 defeat,
Milestones foreshadowed the utter failures of Nasser’s program and, had
he been alive to witness it, Qutb would probably have expressed no sur-
prise at the naksa. There has been some debate over whether Milestones
was the direct product of the harsh conditions in Nasser’s prisons or
whether it reflected the natural progression of thought during the so-
called Islamic resurgence of the 1960s and 1970s. Kepel wrote that
“Islamicist thought was reconstructed after 1954 primarily in the con-
centration camps, which were felt by Qutb and his disciples to symbol-
ize the relationship of the state to society. The camp experience must
therefore be assessed, before considering Qutb’s major writings.”23 On
the other hand, Zollner argued that:
[T]his rather psychological explanation for the radicalization some-

how hides the fact that key ideas of his arguments, as given in his
later work, were already present in earlier stages. Additionally, by
singling out Qutb’s experiences and giving them a psychological
explanation, one can easily overlook that his radical interpretation

was also embedded in a debate among Muslim Brothers, a net-
work of relations to other detainees and to supporters outside the
prison.24
Scholars have also pointed to the influence on Qutb by Abul ‘Ala al-
Mawdudi and Abul Hasan ‘Ali al-Nadawi, two thinkers from the Indian
subcontinent who developed key concepts that became central to the call
to believers in Milestones.25 Another argument that further undermines
the notion of prison radicalization involves the fate of other Muslim Broth-
erhood prisoners. Leading figures such as Mahmoud ‘Abd al-Halim,
Mustafa Mashhur, ‘Umar al-Tilmisani, and of course Hudaybi were un-
doubtedly subjected to many of the same conditions as Qutb but, as dis-
cussed below, continued to espouse the original Muslim Brotherhood
message, with only slight modifications.
Qutb’s departure from the traditional thought of the Muslim Broth-
erhood centered on the fundamental belief in a bottom-up versus top-
down strategy for reform. That is, the Muslim Brotherhood of Banna and
Hudaybi dedicated the bulk of its efforts to grassroots social activism,
even as it engaged the centers of power. Qutb, on the other hand, shifted
the emphasis from da‘wa, the most essential part of the Muslim Brother-
hood’s program, to the pursuit of political empowerment and the imple-
mentation of the Shari‘a. This was both a strategic and ideological change,
informed in large part by a transformed worldview. By Qutb’s account, the
purity that marked the early generation of Islam was shortly thereafter
consumed by a re-emergence of the various aspects of jahiliyya society, to
such an extent that it persisted throughout the march of history. Accord-
ing to Qutb’s analysis of the contemporary situation:
Today too we are surrounded by jahiliyya. Its nature is the same as

in the first period of Islam, and it is perhaps a little more deeply en-
trenched. Our whole environment, people’s beliefs and ideas, habit
and art, rules and laws—is jahiliyya, even to the extent that what
we consider to be Islamic culture, Islamic sources, Islamic philoso-
phy, and Islamic thought are also constructs of jahiliyya! This is
why the true Islamic values never enter our hearts, why our minds
are never illuminated by Islamic concepts, and why no group of
people arises among us equal to the caliber of the first generation
of Islam.26
By this reasoning, existing structures, whether it was the nation-state

system as a whole, a recent introduction to the Muslim societies, or the
Nasser regime ruling Egypt in particular, were beyond the pale of Islam
and therefore were subject to being overturned through an intellectual
project as well as through active struggle. Haddad described the revolu-
tionary nature of Qutb’s Islamic activist agenda thus:
The task of Muslims today . . . is to reappropriate the understand-

ing of true Islam so as to be able to apply it to the contemporary
circumstances, for which task a rewriting of Islamic history is cru-
cial, and to reappropriate the political power which was historically
theirs so that the true din al-wasat can be actualized as God’s di-
vinely ordained and guided community on earth.27
It is in the final section of Milestones, in Qutb’s call to arms, that he dis-

played most vividly his split from the Muslim Brotherhood’s traditional
intellectual framework. In defining the mission as being the replacement
of “this jahiliyya with Islamic ideals and traditions,” Qutb proceeded to
note that “this cannot be brought about by agreeing with jahiliyya and
going along a few steps with it, as some of us think we ought to do, for this
would simply mean that from the beginning we have accepted defeat.”28
The critique of du‘a, or callers—a central facet of the Muslim Brother-
hood’s program—signaled Qutb’s final break with his intellectual tradi-
tion. In one of the final sections of Milestones, he noted that “the history
of the Call to Allah has witnessed various endings in this world in its
struggle with other movements.”29 These various endings, however, were
merely different methods of “annihilation,” violent ends that beset past
civilizations. In other words, according to Qutb, da‘wa is largely a failed
endeavor. However, as is discussed below, it would be left to others to
reach the conclusion that the label of kafir could be justifiably employed in
reference to self-professed Muslims.30
While Qutb did not make any specific calls for the violent overthrow
of the state, and even as he did not explicitly disavow the da‘wa paradigm,
it occurred to Muslim Brotherhood leaders to refute the arguments of-
fered in Milestones, especially as it became apparent that some contin-
gents within the rank-and-file membership and the rising generation of
youth activists were adopting Qutb’s words as the basis for their anti-state
actions. Even after its official ban, Milestones spread across the country,
as students huddled together to make copies by hand for distribution.
The state’s policy of banishing Qutb and his memory from public life had
seemingly backfired:
[B]anning Qutb’s works drew attention to the importance of his

appeal. Forcing intellectuals to keep silent and not to discuss Qutb’s
works left the field completely open for the younger individuals and
groups to interpret Qutb’s thought as they wished. Consequently,
waves of violence in the decades after Qutb’s death, were inescap-
ably the result of ignorance and stupidity.31
A generation had found in Milestones a call for action against the state.
The practice of takfir, or declaring Muslims to be unbelieving, was uti-
lized by a number of groups that sought isolation from society in the form
of hijra, or migration, as the Prophet had done fourteen centuries earlier
in leaving Mecca for Medina. This movement embarked on a new path,
transforming modern Islamic political thought into a revolutionary force,
willing to confront the regime head-on and to halt the march of secular
nationalism in the pursuit of power.32
The most prominent response to the emerging oppositional front from
within the Islamic movement came from none less than the general guide
himself, in the form of Hudaybi’s famous book, Du‘a la Quda (Preachers
Not Judges).33 In her study of this period, Zollner offered important in-
sights into the composition of this work. For one, she made a strong case
that called Hudaybi’s sole authorship of the book into doubt.34 This is im-
portant for a number of reasons. The considerable number of contributors
to the refutation demonstrates that the issues raised in Qutb’s work were
widely read and discussed within the Islamic movement. Moreover, the
possibility that senior figures from al-Azhar were involved in the author-
ship of Preachers suggests that these issues were taken seriously by the
regime, which undertook a proactive policy to combat the spread of sub-
versive ideas among Qutb’s followers. The latter point also exposes the fact
that state officials closely monitored the internal debate within the Islamic
movement, and possibly even contributed to it, undermining the notion
of the debate being “internal” at all. As Zollner further elucidated, this
process was facilitated by the limited modes of communication among
Muslim Brotherhood leaders, who relied heavily on prison networks and
the support of family members to remain in touch with one another.35
The work was notable for both its simplicity and its reliance on es-
tablished Islamic legal and theological norms. In his opening chapter,
Hudaybi listed a set of guiding principles that set the tone of his rebuttal.
First, judgment of individual faith was for God alone, and not intended to
be in the realm of human beings. Second, it was incumbent upon those
who make claims to particular religious decrees to bring proof from the
main sources of Islam, the Qur’an and the Sunna. It was not up to those
who deny the authenticity of religious claims to provide the evidence. Fi-
nally, the human intellect was not permitted to devise matters of legal
prohibition or permissibility without corroboration from the divine source
of Shari‘a.36 By laying out these criteria, Hudaybi calibrated the terms of
the debate, placing the onus on the opposing side to respond with proof
of its claims.
The first section defined the true believer, an indirect response to
Qutb’s assertion that society was in a state of total ignorance. Hudaybi
quickly dispatched such an absolutist judgment in favor of the traditional
Islamic definition of a Muslim as one who declared belief in the basic
tenets of the faith. Even those who erred in their deeds were not to be cast
out from the tent of the faithful, as sin was a natural part of every believ-
ing society. Moreover, he argued that the concept of passing judgment
on an entire population without any distinction reflected poor acumen
and was profoundly un-Islamic. In the event that individuals in society
demonstrated “ignorance” ( jahl, as opposed to the loaded term jahiliyya),
it was not the place of the preacher to pass judgment against them.
The issue of divine sovereignty was another central theme in Preachers,
prompted by the need to respond to Qutb’s excoriation of man-made gov-
ernments and his argument that rule was for God alone. Hudaybi coun-
tered that an Islamic state cannot exist without some degree of agency
given to the people themselves who, rightly guided by divine decree, were
apt to rule over the temporal world. This analysis also alluded to the vis-
ible contradiction in Milestones that granted Qutb’s followers the right to
condemn society as unbelieving while reserving sovereignty to God alone.
In many ways, Hudaybi’s text hinged on the Muslim Brotherhood’s
claim to authority. It frequently faulted the group’s rivals for failing to
properly interpret Islamic sources, and even offered a miniature guide
to evaluating religious texts. One chapter, titled “Obedience and Assent,”
stressed the need to conform to established norms, accepted interpreta-
tions, and recognized authority. To some extent, and in the face of an
extraneous threat, the movement led by Hudaybi supported a declared
orthodoxy and warned against any deviation from it. The recurring theme
of Preachers defined the role of the movement’s rank-and-file membership
as simply callers to the faith. The figure of the da‘i, a humble community
servant, appeared in sharp contrast to the scathing judgment passed on
society by Qutb.37
The period surrounding Hudaybi’s publication of Preachers marked
an important turning point in the history of the Muslim Brotherhood.
Whereas in the previous era of the group’s existence, it was possible to
talk about the Muslim Brotherhood and the Islamic movement in Egypt
as nearly interchangeable entities, the ideological (and the ensuing strate-
gic) split within the movement’s ranks were such that the Muslim Broth-
erhood would now have to contend with an emerging fringe opposition
within the movement that vied for the hearts and minds of the nation’s
youth.
As the next section demonstrates, this was a young man’s game. The
discourse initiated by Qutb and elaborated upon by Hudaybi would only
pick up steam after both figures had left the scene. It would be left to the
new generation of Islamic activists, coming primarily from the ranks of
Egypt’s growing population of students, to determine the future of the
movement. As its leaders continued to languish in prison, even as Nasser
took his last breath in late September 1970, the Muslim Brotherhood’s
existence depended on its ability to overcome its logistical and organiza-
tional limitations and to spread its message to the youth. This was the
key to maintaining its supremacy in the field of Islamic activism. Before
proceeding to the next phase in the Islamic movement’s history, however,
it is essential to provide a historical overview of student political activism
in Egypt, highlighting its relationship (both harmonious and contentious)
with the Islamic movement along the way.
Student Activism in the Liberal Period

The modern system of education in Egypt is the product of developments
stemming from several periods of recent history, beginning with the Na-
poleonic invasion of the late eighteenth century. The abrupt exposure to
European imperialism, followed by a half century of rapid modernization
at the hands of Muhammad ‘Ali Pasha, signaled a break from traditional
modes of learning and ushered in an era of modern, standardized educa-
tion in Egypt. This process continued into the late nineteenth century,
until it was hindered by the advancement of the British colonial regime in
Egypt in 1882. Lord Cromer set British educational policy in Egypt in an
attempt to preserve a status quo favorable to British interests. Educational
reform was perceived to enable political instability by expanding upward

social mobility and resulting in the rise of a widespread nationalist move-
ment.38 As a result of Cromer’s policy, 73 percent of Egyptian students
were paying for their education in 1892, a rise from 30 percent only a
decade earlier.39 The cultivation of an elite educated class separate from
the rest of society was an integral part of maintaining British supremacy
in colonial Egypt.
Following the Egyptian nationalist movement’s achievement of nomi-
nal independence in 1922, efforts were made to standardize the system
of education, with particular emphasis placed on primary education,
provided to all Egyptians for free. 40 Despite numerous efforts through-
out the liberal period, Egypt was still unable to shake off the dualism in
its system of education, one that maintained two types of institutions,
one for the dominant, landowning elite and future government leaders,
and another for the rest of the population, a minimalist system target-
ing basic literacy for the rural majority. 41 In the area of higher education,
Egypt’s first modern university was established in 1925 by combining pre-
viously existing colleges and attempting to standardize the curriculum.
As a remnant of British colonial rule, however, Egypt’s university system
was largely used to feed employees into government ranks, a phenom-
enon that became unsustainable as the number of university graduates
exceeded the demand for government bureaucrats. These developments
increased the strain on the Wafdist government, resulting in political in-
stability in Egypt during the 1930s and 1940s:
As the university students’ perceptions of the future that awaited

them became increasingly dismal, they turned to political activ-
ism. . . . Strengthening such feelings were the many physical,
psychological, social, and economic problems which students, par-
ticularly those from more traditional backgrounds, encountered in
attempting to adjust to the demands of university life. 42
The achievements of these politically conscientious students can best

be measured by examining periodic moments of crisis that beset Egypt
during the era of liberal parliamentary politics. The first major political
crisis surfaced in the aftermath of the 1930 revisions to the constitution
that granted Britain increased rights in Egypt and marginalized the par-
liament, Egypt’s only representative body. After Isma‘il Sidqi Pasha’s gov-
ernment collapsed in 1933, the Wafd-led government of Tawfiq Nasim
Pasha was tasked with the responsibility of reforming the constitution,

following widespread outrage at the changes. The student movement was
instrumental in this effort. When, in November 1935, Wafd Party leaders
officially called for non-cooperation with the British, the students at Fuad
University (later Cairo University) responded by taking to the streets.
Nearly two thousand students marched from Giza to Cairo on the first day
of the strike, and that number doubled on the second day, when students
were met with a violent response by state security officers. 43 Although
workers and professional unions sympathized with the protests and fre-
quently joined them, it was the university students who took the lead in
this unprecedented action.
On the political front, the students pressed for unity from their party
leaders, an effort that yielded the United Front, the political coalition that
forced the palace to restore the 1923 Constitution and set the stage for the
signing of the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty of 1936. Made up of independents
as well as representatives from all major political factions, from the Wafd
to Young Egypt, and the communists to the Muslim Brotherhood, the
student movement was free of domination by one political faction, and ac-
tually asserted its own power on the elders within these groups. So signif-
icant was the rise of the student movement as a force in its own right on
the political stage that this period became known as the “years of youth.”44
The political situation in Egypt remained relatively pacified during
World War II, but as the war drew to a close, the country’s popular fac-
tions began to agitate for full independence, and once again the student
movement played a pivotal role in these events. Student protests in late
1945 in solidarity with Palestine as it battled increased Jewish migration
and British rule gave way to the establishment of the Mixed Committee
of Students (MCS) in early 1946. As one of its first acts, the MCS issued
a National Charter, calling for the evacuation of the British from all of
Egypt, the inclusion of the United Nations in determining the country’s
future, and the pursuit of just economic policies. 45 These lofty demands
came on the heels of a significant event that provided the momentum for
the student movement to strengthen its resolve and widen its appeal in the
months to come. On February 9, thousands of students assembled within
the university’s walls to listen to passionate speeches calling for Egypt’s
full independence. When many of them set off on a march through Cairo,
they were once again met with the brute force of Egypt’s police, which pro-
ceeded to raise the Abbas Bridge as hundreds of students were crossing
over it. Scores were injured as a result of this incident, and confrontations
continued to escalate in the ensuing weeks, resulting in the deaths of

more than twenty students in clashes with police on February 21 alone.
The instability caused by these student protests and the subsequent
workers’ strikes generated some important results, as the palace offered to
dismiss the current government in favor of more popular political leader-
ship, while the British authorities made the decision on March 8 to with-
draw from all parts of Egypt with the exception of the Suez Canal Zone.
In an effort to restore order, however, the government began preemptive
raids on the student leadership, arresting two hundred of them in July,
banning their publications, and later that year temporarily closing the
universities in Cairo and Alexandria. In fact, the closure of universities
was a frequent occurrence throughout the late 1940s, as the government
attempted to assert its control over the students as they, in turn, demon-
strated their power as a force for political change in the face of a liberal
regime in rapid decline. In late December 1947, the military surrounded
the gates of Cairo University, but following a week-long student sit-in, the
soldiers were withdrawn. 46
As the situation in Egypt deteriorated further in 1951, the Wafdist gov-
ernment of Nahhas Pasha abrogated the unpopular Anglo-Egyptian Treaty
of 1936. But rather than appease the protestors, this move emboldened
the student movement, which escalated the number of general strikes,
and issued a new National Charter through the student government that
called for armed struggle against the continuing British occupation. Uni-
versity grounds became a center for military training for ten thousand
students, and the first student battalion was deployed to the Suez Canal
Zone in November. Under pressure from solidarity protests across the
country, the government was forced to quickly reverse its ban on military
training on university grounds in support of the guerrilla movement. The
student movement’s dominance in the nation’s political affairs continued
into the turbulent year of 1952 and well after the Free Officers Revolution,
until it was repressed along with all other independent political forces, as
described below.
Even as it remained fiercely independent and loosely affiliated with
every political faction in Egypt during this two-decade period, the student
movement was nonetheless strongly tied to the fate of the Islamic move-
ment, especially as the Muslim Brotherhood gained in power and promi-
nence. Since its inception, the Muslim Brotherhood preserved a special
place for students within its program. Hasan al-Banna had only recently
graduated from Dar al-‘Ulum when he founded the organization in 1928.
When he established the first chapter in Ismailia, Banna was spending

his days as a government-appointed teacher at a secondary school. Many
of the first individuals to join the organization were his former colleagues
and students. During his many travels throughout Egypt in the 1930s,
Banna made a point of meeting with groups of students, and many of
them were organized into families within the hierarchy of the Muslim
Brotherhood. Soon after the headquarters was set up in Cairo, a special
office devoted to student affairs was put in place.
The Rover Scouts, frequently the subject of controversy but also the
means by which the Muslim Brotherhood defended its interests within an
increasingly crowded and confrontational field of political activism, relied
heavily on student recruits. Estimates of the Rover Scouts in the mid-
1940s placed their number from 20,000 to 45,000, with most coming
from the ranks of students, and once the Muslim Brotherhood was banned
by government decree in 1948, one thousand of its members were dis-
missed from universities and secondary schools. 47 As stated previously, a
feature of the independent student movement was the fierce competition
between the political factions, as no single party effectively dominated
the scene. Consequently, the university grounds were often the site of vio-
lent confrontations between student militias representing the various fac-
tions. Previously popular among only a minority of students, the Muslim
Brotherhood made great gains in the mid-1940s, especially as it exploited
the deterioration of the Wafd Party and the increasing disillusionment
with it from within the student population. In 1946, a British embassy
official observed that “[t]he rise of the Moslem Brethren has weakened the
Wafd, particularly in the University and Schools, where they have recently
become stronger than the Wafd as an element of disorder.”48
The Muslim Brotherhood’s influence within the student movement
reached its apex on the eve of the revolution. In 1951, students affili-
ated with the Muslim Brotherhood swept the Student Union elections
throughout Cairo University, winning all the available seats in the col-
leges of agriculture and science, and a majority of seats in the colleges
of engineering, arts, law, and commerce. 49 Though frequent, the clashes
between the Muslim Brotherhood and the other factions, especially the
Wafdists and the communists, were occasionally interrupted by moments
of coordination and cooperation, especially during times of national polit-
ical crisis. The Muslim Brotherhood’s growing power and influence also
made it an appealing partner for these groups, and eventually it became
a focal point for the coup conspirators in the military as well. The nexus
between the student movement, the Muslim Brotherhood, and the Free
Officers was a natural extension of the military action in Palestine and the
Suez Canal Zone. The Muslim Brotherhood relied on student recruits to
fill the ranks of its battalions, provided them with arms, and coordinated
the volunteers’ participation with officers in the Egyptian military. This
relationship was to inform the future dealings between these groups in
the aftermath of the Free Officers Revolution.
Student Activism after the Revolution

Despite the numerous advancements made to Egypt’s system of educa-
tion during the liberal era, including the increased availability of primary
education and the standardization of the curriculum, the fundamental
problem of elitism in the system remained:
Thus by 1952 Egypt was rift by numerous social, political and cul-
tural cleavages, a state of affairs to which the educational system
had contributed greatly. Its elitist, fragmented structure ensured
that divisions between elite and mass, town and country, gradu-
ates of the religious system and of the secular schools, would
become ever deeper; its ethos ensured that even the graduates of
the modern schools would be ignorant automatons possessing . . .
negative attributes.50
As such, one of the top priorities of the Revolutionary Command Coun-

cil was to pursue reforms in the system of education, just as it advanced
new programs in other areas of Egypt’s political, economic, and social
infrastructure. Szyliowicz categorized the development of Egyptian edu-
cation under the revolutionary regime according to three phases, which
largely coincided with the major political transformations that marked the
Nasser regime.51
The first phase lasted until 1956, falling under the period of Nasser’s
consolidation of power. During these years the state aggressively pushed a
national plan toward universal primary education and the diversification
of post-primary education, seen through its emphasis on technical and
vocational training. The second phase lasted until 1961 and was marked
by the central role that the state’s emerging political ideology played in de-
termining the course of the educational system. School and university in-
struction was heavily politicized as students were expected to internalize
the Nasser regime’s nationalist rhetoric and to lead the way in meeting its
ambitious development goals. The third phase lasted through most of the
1960s and reflected Egypt’s growing dependence on foreign support, as it
advanced radical socialist policies at all levels of domestic policy, includ-
ing education. The regime also attempted to address some of the failures
of the previous period, including the inability to meet development tar-
gets and the strains placed on its educational system due to overcrowding
and aging facilities.
The government’s reforms brought about some welcome changes to
Egypt’s system of education. Though it did not attain its goal of universal
education, the Nasser regime abolished school fees and saw the number
of students in higher education increase by more than 50 percent in the
first six years after the revolution.52 Additionally, public expenditure on
education rose from 2.5 million Egyptian pounds under the last Wafd
government to 33.3 million Egyptian pounds under the RCC. Nasser
also attempted to do away with the dualism in education by providing
a standardized curriculum and opening the doors of Egypt’s universi-
ties to greater numbers of students from the middle and underprivileged
classes. These changes saw a dramatic qualitative shift in the profile of
students who attended Egypt’s colleges and universities. Nasser later set
his sights on the historically independent al-Azhar University, revamp-
ing its curriculum and diminishing its capacity to influence matters of
policy and law in Egypt, another major change that was to have a pro-
found impact on the future relationship between the student movement
and the state.
In the immediate aftermath of the revolution, secondary and univer-
sity students supported the RCC in large numbers. Students welcomed
the promise of greater reforms to a system that had only catered to the
elites in society. They continued to lend their support, even when “the
new regime offered to do away with the parliamentary system in return
for providing a number of social achievements which that system had no-
tably failed to produce.”53 Nasser proceeded to dismiss hundreds of teach-
ers, seen as representatives of the old regime, replacing them with those
loyal to the revolution.
The breakdown in relations between the students and the govern-
ment did not occur, however, until the RCC itself faced an internal split.
Much like the Muslim Brotherhood’s leadership, a large number of stu-
dents supported Naguib, who ultimately lost out to Nasser in the ensuing
power struggle. Sensing an immediate threat from within the ranks of
the students, many of whom shared loyalties with the recently banned
Muslim Brotherhood, Nasser established a student wing of the Libera-
tion Rally, the first official political party after the revolution. On Egyp-
tian campuses, this group’s sole purpose was to undermine the efforts of
preexisting student groups, eventually hoping to overwhelm them and to
establish its presence as the sole representative of students. Following a
turbulent period of violent confrontation between a state-supported orga-
nization and the remaining independent factions, the student movement
was effectively suppressed by the end of 1954.
The absence of student activism, which lasted until 1967, “was engi-
neered through the combination of coercion and socialization.”54 Nasser’s
clampdown on political freedom and his development of a robust secu-
rity apparatus extended to the university campuses, where surveillance
of students and professors was standard and armed guards patrolled the
grounds and its surroundings. Moreover, administrators developed poli-
cies to keep students busy with day-to-day distractions, both welcome and
unwelcome, such as the addition of intensive midterm examinations and
various athletic clubs. It was also understood that students who affiliated
themselves with the regime’s various student organizations, from the Lib-
eration Rally in the early years after the revolution to the Arab Socialist
Union’s Socialist Youth Organization (SYO) in the mid-1960s, stood a
far better chance of attaining employment opportunities after graduation.
The degree to which student activities were closely monitored and
controlled can be observed most closely through the experience of the
Student Union at Cairo University. After 1953, school officials suspended
elections and began appointing the leadership. Even after elections were
restored in 1959, they were closely controlled and resulted in much the
same type of pliant leadership.55 For the first time in the organization’s
history, students did not enjoy full autonomy within their union, but
instead deferred to faculty advisors, whose approval was required on all
major issues. Furthermore, the mandate of the Student Union did not
extend beyond academic, social, and cultural functions. Political activism
was strictly off limits to students, except insofar as it served to echo the
message of the regime. Faculty control over union membership dues en-
sured that resources were not allocated to independent student activities.
By the early 1960s, a combination of widespread student disinterest
and frustration, along with Nasser’s perception that he had solidified his
regime’s control over civil society, led to a slight relaxation of the state’s
grip on the Student Union, with reforms to its constitution passed in 1963
to allow greater student control. As the events of 1968 would demonstrate,

however, students had long ago given up on the Student Union as a vehi-
cle for their activism, and instead sought new alternatives. The June War
of 1967 was a watershed event that drastically changed the nature of the
Egyptian regime’s relationship with its citizens. This was especially true
of the students. An entire generation that was raised knowing no other
form of government but that which came out of the revolution, and no
other leader but Gamal Abdel Nasser, was suddenly left to question every-
thing it had ever been taught. As one student leader later recalled, “only
after the massive defeat of 1967, and the slowing down of the regime’s
social program due to the burden of military expenditure, did an eventual
split between the regime and its student body become a real possibility.”56
The Student Movement Returns

The last three years of Nasser’s rule were notable for the shifts in the po-
litical order brought about by two incidents of civil unrest, both of which
featured a prominent role by a student movement determined to reclaim
its role in Egyptian political life. Both protests brought to a head larger
concerns about the future direction of the nation in light of the unsuccess-
ful war, along with localized grievances about the nature of the university
environment. The defeat acted as a catalyst that:
shattered the remaining sense of dynamism and momentum

among the youth and created a climate wherein their frustrations
concerning the university environment, the kinds of positions to
which they could aspire, and the repressive political context became
as explosive as in the past.57
The verdicts by the military courts in February 1968 sparked the first
wave of protests. Although it was factory workers in Helwan who initiated
the street demonstrations, students quickly joined in the efforts, infusing
the growing opposition movement with momentum that would see the
uprising last for one week. Following a flurry of discussions and debates
in campuses in Cairo and Alexandria on February 21, students would
take to the streets of those cities the following day, resulting in clashes
with police followed by mass arrests. According to the recollections of one
student leader at the Engineering College at Cairo University, it was the
Law College students who initiated the protests, but their colleagues in
engineering quickly took the lead and played a central role in the events
that followed, as indicated by the selection of several students from the
college to represent their peers in a meeting with the Speaker of Parlia-
ment, Anwar al-Sadat, on February 24.58
When the march reached the gates of parliament, a student delegation
was admitted to the chamber and delivered a passionate address to the
body. Addressing student concerns, Sadat assured them that state secu-
rity agents would not retaliate against the students for their public dis-
play. In fact, he even provided them with his personal telephone numbers
in case they were harassed following the meeting.59 Sure enough, that
night security agents conducted raids that netted all the student leaders.
The following morning, a student assembly to discuss the next course of
action turned into a second street demonstration once news of the arrests
spread. This time, however, the police forces were ready to confront the
students. The demonstration was violently repressed through the use of
clubs and tear gas, and the students eventually retreated to their campus,
where hundreds of them staged a sit-in. It took three days for faculty
members and parents to convince the students to end their protest, and
only after government officials agreed to another meeting to hear student
demands.60
The meeting and its outcome were a major point of contention as
student leaders recalled that their key grievances were obfuscated by the
media and government officials. For his part, Sadat attempted to narrow
student demands to the issues of the perceived leniency of the military
sentences and the abuses committed by the university guard. Complicit
in the effort to trivialize student concerns and discredit their leaders, the
press portrayed the students as spoiled children of the old elite who called
for the execution of Egyptian military generals following the national
defeat. So careful was the regime in attempting to isolate the students and
their message from reaching the wider public that Cairo police rerouted
city traffic from passing the university gates in order to prevent Egyptians
from reading the signs and banners hanging from the walls.
In separate accounts of this period, Ahmed Abdalla Ruzza, president
of the Higher National Committee of Cairo University Students, and Wa’il
‘Uthman, an Islamic activist and co-founder of Shabab al-Islam, stressed
that the student movement united around a comprehensive program that
called for liberalization of the political system and the restoration of rights
and freedoms. A statement released by student leaders on the eve of their
meeting with Sadat called on all students to come together for the sake
of demanding their freedom which, according to them, had to be taken,

and would never be given. The statement concluded with a list of eight
demands:
1. The release of the detained students;

2. Freedom of opinion and of the press;
3. A free assembly practicing normal parliamentary life;
4 . Removing the intelligence and security agents from the universities;
5. Issuing and enforcing laws to restore rights and freedoms;
6. A serious investigation into the incident of the Helwan workers;
7. Clarification of the truth of the air force trial matter;
8. An investigation into the conduct of the university guard.61
Of these demands, only half dealt with immediate problems arising out of
the protests. The rest drew attention to larger political issues and called for
fundamental changes to the system. The issue of the air force trial, with
which the parliament and the media had been obsessed, was listed as the
seventh demand and was not greatly emphasized by the students. Despite
concerted efforts to minimize the scope of the student movement’s de-
mands, the protests did have a lasting impact on Egypt’s political scene,
signaling a point of no return for the Nasser regime. In the aftermath of
the February protest:
[n]ationally, it forced Nasser to order the retrial of the officers

charged with negligence and to form a new cabinet with a civilian
majority, mostly of university professors, for the first time in his
rule. More significantly, it made him seek a renewed legitimacy for
his regime through the promulgation of the Program of 30 March,
with its promised liberal reforms of the political system.62
Within the university, students were satisfied to see that some of their
demands were met, such as the lifting of censorship restrictions and the
limitations on the University Guard’s ability to intervene in political activ-
ities. A new constitution for the Student Union brought an end to faculty
control and offered new welfare benefits for students. As Abdalla recalled,
“the most important legacy of the uprising, however, was the spirit of self-
confidence which spread through the student body in its aftermath.”63
That spirit carried over into another protest later in the year. In No-
vember 1968, students united in their opposition to a new education law
that raised testing and graduation standards in order to ease pressures

on Egyptian schools. The protests began with secondary school students
marching through the streets of Mansoura but spread to other cities in
Egypt, beginning with al-Azhar students in Cairo and moving on to Al-
exandria, where students held the city’s governor on their campus until
he agreed to release their arrested colleagues. The situation escalated as
the street protests in Alexandria and the subsequent response by police
resulted in the deaths of sixteen people, scores of injuries, and widespread
destruction of property. Meanwhile in Cairo, students attempting to or-
ganize a response were preempted by an aggressive effort by government
and university officials to prevent the spread of the protest. Class meeting
times were changed and ultimately canceled as officials closed the univer-
sity’s gates to prevent students from convening.
For the time being, the regime’s aggressive response had proved ef-
fective in quelling the spread of another protest. In what Abdalla referred
to in hindsight as a “step backwards for the student movement,” some of
the credibility it had built up in February was lost in November.64 Without
much popular outrage, students were arrested but never tried, and ulti-
mately released after some months. The government went on an all-out
offensive, with Nasser giving several speeches condemning the rash be-
havior of the youth and its effect on Egypt’s image abroad. The media did
its part to trumpet this position, while some regime officials hoped that
the failure of the movement to achieve popular support could be used as
a pretext to roll back some of the liberalization measures of the March 30
Program. For their part, the students recognized that the immediate cause
around which they rallied during this protest was not likely to resonate
with their compatriots. Regardless of how unfair they may seem to some
students, the tougher educational measures were meant to improve stan-
dards, a goal with which many Egyptians would agree, at least in theory.
Movements Converge on the Eve of Sadat

In the long term, however, the November 1968 protest did much to con-
tinue to awaken the spirit of political activism within the nation’s student
body. By the end of the year, it became clear to the regime’s highest officials
that the status quo of the pre-1967 period was no more, and Nasser would
have to rethink the means of maintaining his authority. His sudden death
in 1970 would mean that this task would fall to someone else. With a new
ruler in Sadat, whose Nasserist credentials were frequently questioned,
and a reinvigorated student movement, the stage was set for some historic
developments in Egyptian political life.
When examining these critical years of transition in Egypt’s modern
history, a degree of nuance is essential. Understanding the behavior of
social movement actors can often become obfuscated by relying too heav-
ily on rigid dates and landmark events. Though only a few years apart,
the student protests of 1968 and those of 1972 fall on either side of the
divide in Egypt’s political timeline, and are accordingly treated as having
occurred under vastly different state systems. In reality, however, the
latter protests were an extension of the earlier ones and part of the same
movement, evolving within a political climate that had been undergoing
gradual change for a number of years.
Thus, the Sadat period can actually be said to have begun prior to his
assumption of the presidency in late 1970. In contrast to his essentially
marginal role during the early years after the revolution, Sadat enjoyed
a sudden rise in the ranks of the Egyptian regime throughout the late
1960s, serving as prime minister and then becoming Nasser’s vice presi-
dent during the transitional final years of the Nasser presidency.
Additionally, many of the political transformations that would mark
Sadat’s term as president were actually set in motion prior to his assump-
tion of power, in the immediate aftermath of the 1967 War. Egypt’s grad-
ual detachment from the Soviet Union, its warming up to the West, efforts
toward greater political and economic openness, and even the possibility
of a peace settlement with Israel were all pursued by Nasser during his
final days in office. Finally, and perhaps most directly related to the sub-
ject at hand, the student movement’s interaction with the regime during
its post-1967 activism usually entailed filing grievances with Sadat in the
dramatic scenes that unfolded in parliament. The buck stopped with him
as far as many of the students were concerned. They met with him re-
peatedly and depended on his promises as representative of the regime’s
commitment to their demands. This is not to diminish the importance of
Sadat’s corrective revolution and consolidation of power that took place in
May 1971 (and was further cemented in the October 1973 War) but rather
to emphasize that many of these developments were set in motion prior
to his assumption of the presidency.
It is in this context of political uncertainty and ideological fluidity that
the student movement took form. In the late 1960s, the strength of the
student activist movement lay in its unity. Scholars who have examined
the responses to the June War list at least three ideological factions to
emerge from the defeat: secular liberal, radical socialist, and Islamic fun-
damentalist.65 But if one examines the response at the level of the student
body, the most vocal and active segment of society during these critical
years, a different picture emerges. This was a period of dynamism and
fluidity of thought and action. Though representing different intellectual
trends, the student movement united in many of its activities and shared
largely the same feelings with regard to the issue of the defeat. It was
not until several years later, in the early 1970s, that one begins to wit-
ness the student movement divided according to rigid ideological lines.
This feeling was shared by a number of student leaders who later wrote
on their experiences during the protests of 1968. Abdalla and ‘Uthman,
who represented the leftist and Islamist trends, respectively, would later
assert that the consolidation of ideological trends and inter-student com-
petition did not develop until the protests of 1972–1973.66 Until then, stu-
dents united around the universal issue common to all them: the call for
freedom.
But it is to that process of diffusion of political activist trends that we
now turn. In the early 1970s, the Islamic movement developed a voice
of its own, independent of any preexisting organization and purely as
a force within the student movement. It became dedicated primarily to
ending nearly two decades of leftist dominance and reinserting Islam into
the field of student political activism. Though it is frequently excluded
from the standard history of the Muslim Brotherhood and its presence
within Egyptian society in general and universities in particular, Shabab
al-Islam, the short-lived organization founded by students at Cairo Univer-
sity’s College of Engineering, emerged as the first true heir to the Muslim
Brotherhood’s student chapters. Its experience during the critical years of
political transition served as an important stepping stone in the resump-
tion of organized Islamic activism in Egypt. The students who founded
and led Shabab al-Islam signified the evolving nature of the Islamic move-
ment, at once demonstrating that the moderate Islamic movement had
evolved beyond the monopoly established by the Muslim Brotherhood,
while also displaying the durability of Banna’s mission in a debilitating
political climate.
2
The Youth of Islam
In the history of Islamic activism in the 1970s, the sheer volume of

organizations—whether public advocacy groups or secret underground
movements, mainstream or militant—has ensured that some actors will
inevitably be lost in the chaotic shuffle of history. Such has been the case
with Shabab al-Islam, a movement that emerged from the shadow of the
unified student movement in the late 1960s to become a key actor in the
protests of 1972–1973. Despite its initial success and its enduring status
as the first public expression of religious activism in Egypt in the late
Nasser era, Shabab al-Islam’s term was short-lived, and its legacy often
forgotten.
Upon providing the political and social context that gave rise to this
group, this chapter traces the history of Shabab al-Islam, detailing its in-
tellectual and organizational roots, along with its experiences confront-
ing internal and external challenges. The successes and failures of the
organization are closely examined through the experience of its lead-
ers. Finally, this chapter concludes with a brief analysis that attempts
to explain why Shabab al-Islam did not survive its first generation of
leaders or develop into a sustainable movement. Though the two groups
never encountered one another, Shabab al-Islam’s infusion of Islamic
politics into Cairo University paved the way for the Muslim Brotherhood
to resume its status as the leading Islamic movement organization, built
in large part on the success of the student movement. While Shabab
al-Islam ultimately proved to be a mere forerunner of the widespread
Islamization of Egyptian youth that took hold in the mid-1970s, it was
notable for being years ahead of its time, melding Islam and politics at
a moment in modern history when the risks were prohibitive for most
other groups.
Student Activism: Sustained or Contained?

Along with its rich legacy of political activism, a primary reason that the
student movement was the first independent force to resume its place
on the national stage was its presence within an existing state institu-
tion, but one whose members could not be as tightly controlled. While
Gamal Abdel Nasser could easily clamp down on the communists and
the Muslim Brotherhood, he could not simply shut down the universities.
And while he could placate the endless ranks of bureaucrats and soldiers
by controlling their livelihoods, students were less dependent on the state
for their survival, and thus had less to lose. Finally, there is something to
be said about the idealism, zeal, and vitality that are often associated with
youth, and those should not be discounted as factors in mobilizing the
student movement after years of its effective dormancy.
In the aftermath of the 1967 defeat, students were at the forefront of
the political discussions and debates taking place in Egypt. Many of them
explored the spectrum of ideological and intellectual trends available
within a closed and controlled political system. Because Nasser had built
his regime around an Arab nationalist and radical socialist program, the
majority of students had moved toward leftist political ideologies rang-
ing from outright communism (though it was technically banned by the
state) to moderate socialism. The state promoted groups that it hoped
could channel the activist tendencies of the student movement within
acceptable boundaries. The Socialist Youth Organization (SYO) fulfilled
this purpose for several years, until it was withdrawn following the events
of 1968.
The protests demonstrated that students naturally gravitated toward
forces of opposition, rather than the “mindless exhibitionism” of pro-
regime groups.1 The government took a different approach with the So-
cialist Vanguard (SV), an underground organization meant to take on the
appearance of an independent student voice for political activism, though
it continued to reflect the will of the regime. The group’s leaders recruited
many student activists into its ranks and politicized the student unions
of several colleges, after years in which the regime had kept politics out
of the university. This reflected Nasser’s new understanding, in the after-
math of the 1967 defeat, that the politicization of students was inevitable,
and as such it was best for the regime to offer a formidable alternative to
the independent voices sprouting out of the postwar climate. The Social-
ist Vanguard, along with the reforms to the Student Union’s constitution
The Youth of Islam 51
that included provisions for political action, ensured that the state would
preserve at least some degree of control over this process.
An Islamic “Idea” Takes Shape

Along with the leftist forces that dominated campus politics during the
late 1960s by virtue of their being the only acceptable outlet, Islam-based
activism was posed to make yet another comeback. Much as Nasser tried
to erase its presence, the specter of his old foe, the Muslim Brotherhood,
continued to maintain a presence in the intellectual life of Egypt. Follow-
ing the events of 1965 and the subsequent execution of Sayyid Qutb, the
organization was once again relegated to Nasser’s concentration camps
and had no official presence in Egyptian society in the late 1960s. Yet the
intellectual tradition that inspired the organization could not be eradi-
cated from the scene. The Muslim Brotherhood “idea” continued to live
on, even when it appeared to most observers that the organization would
not. This was accomplished in a number of ways.
First, the legacy of Hasan al-Banna was such that even a leader as
charismatic and domineering as Nasser could not erase him from the
Egyptian collective memory. Though difficult to find in bookshops, his
writings continued to be a source of inspiration for many Egyptians
who exchanged them quietly. The amount of goodwill generated by the
Muslim Brotherhood during its early period was too deeply rooted to do
away with, even after the events of 1954 and the group’s supposed betrayal
of the revolution.2
Second, there existed in Egypt a number of prominent individuals—
former Muslim Brotherhood officials or at least sympathetic to its mis-
sion—who continued to thrive even during the period of repression. At a
time when the organization’s name could not even be spoken in public,
these men ensured that the spirit of its Islamic modernist mission would
persist. Individuals such as Salih al-‘Ashmawi and Sheikh Muhammad al-
Ghazali, both of whom left the Muslim Brotherhood after their disagree-
ments with Hudaybi, were spared Nasser’s prisons. While they could not
openly propagate for the organization, they kept its tradition alive. Sheikh
Yousuf al-Qaradawi, who had since relocated to the Gulf, also ensured
that the Islamic trend made popular during the 1930s and 1940s would
continue to spread well into the 1960s, and would achieve the status of
most prominent Islamic intellectual school in the Arab region. This was
a significant departure from the early years of the Muslim Brotherhood,

when its ideology and its organization were virtually inseparable. Conse-
quently, a generation emerged that was exposed to the ideas of the Muslim
Brotherhood, even if it had never heard the name.
Third, the Qutb experience, along with that of Organization 1965,
sent shockwaves throughout Egyptian society, which had not witnessed
such ruthlessness by the Nasser regime toward its political opponents in
over a decade. Even those who may have strongly opposed Qutb’s mes-
sage were sympathetic to his plight and were horrified at the possibility
that someone who was at one time Nasser’s personal colleague could be
sent to the gallows. Less than a year after Qutb’s execution, the naksa
sent many youth in search of answers, and some of them found solace
in his writings, which had presciently condemned the nation to misery
and defeat until it turned toward God. The 1967 defeat, which shat-
tered Nasser’s image, had the opposite effect on his opponents. Within
some circles, Qutb’s message seemed more in tune with the experience
of the 1960s, and thus superseded the traditional Muslim Brotherhood
ideology. Stories of young people huddling together to read handwritten
copies of Milestones were as widespread as the government’s efforts to
crack down on them.
Rise of the Religious Youth

This revived interest in religious texts appeared despite the government’s
success in limiting any institutional avenue for Islam-based activism. At
the universities, the only club available for religious expression was al-
Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya, the Religious Group, whose functions were severely
restricted to those of basic rituals such as prayers and fasting. Its mem-
bers were few in number, and most expressed no interest in engaging in
the protests of 1968. Instead, they preferred to engage in religious learn-
ing on matters of belief and practice, all of which was free of any political
content.3
It is thus remarkable that, in a climate so devoid of opportunities for
religiously based political expression, a group such as Shabab al-Islam
could emerge. The organization, which dated its official launch to the fall
of 1972, was the product of several unique circumstances. It was founded
in Cairo University’s College of Engineering, an institution that featured
the best and brightest that Egyptian schools had to offer during a period of
increased mechanization and industrialization. Colleges of law, religion,
and the humanities had suffered as a result of the push that the Nasser
regime had made in the fields of science, medicine, and engineering. In
the case of engineering in particular, many of the top students spent their
summers in Europe for professional training, and were therefore exposed
to a more open environment that allowed them to contemplate and ex-
plore issues facing their countrymen at home.
Additionally, the activists of the 1970s increasingly reflected yet an-
other demographic shift within Egyptian society. Whereas historically,
educational opportunities were far greater for members of the old elite,
the Nasser regime paved the way for the inclusion of the urban poor in
greater numbers. However, the late 1960s saw the rise of a new middle
class in Egyptian society that had greater resources at its disposal. In the
case of Wa’il ‘Uthman, one of the founders of Shabab al-Islam, his family
had temporarily relocated to Kuwait, where he spent his high school years;
as a result, he was influenced by the intellectual currents there, which
were more openly Islamic in nature. 4 Perhaps the most important devel-
opment during this critical period, however, was the transition of power
at the highest levels of Egyptian politics, with Sadat’s accession to the
presidency. Although Islamic activists from this era generally refuted the
assertion that Sadat actively aided the rise of Islamic movements, many
of them readily acknowledged that his desire for a corrective revolution
to combat leftist forces and Nasserist remnants provided them with the
space to operate.5 This was especially true of Shabab al-Islam, the first
such expression of popular religious advocacy.
‘Uthman, in his memoir recounting his college experience, recalled
that the 1968 protests, even as they were led by leftist students, had a
profound impact on the students of his generation who would pursue the
resumption of Islamic activism.6 For the few students such as ‘Uthman
who were not part of the leftist wave, they remained uncomfortable with
many of the inconsistencies in the burgeoning student movement. Some
student leaders were quietly members of the Socialist Vanguard, even as
they purported to reject the state’s intrusion into the universities. Still
others would later come to the defense of Sha‘rawi Gom‘a, Nasser’s inte-
rior minister who directed the crackdown against the protests of 1968,
but was later removed from his post and arrested during Sadat’s correc-
tive revolution of May 1971.
What made students such as ‘Uthman wary of the dominant student
leadership was its propensity to change stripes depending on the political
winds, while hiding its true nature. They would operate “with two faces:
unabashed communism, as they were not shy to declare their atheism

in our personal discussions, and a revolutionary nationalist façade that
appealed to the students to join the struggle of world socialism against
American imperialism.”7 They moved frequently from one organization
to another, taking on such names as Ansar al-Thawra al-Falastiniyya
(Supporters of the Palestinian Revolution) and Gama‘at Gawwad Hosni
(Gawwad Hosni Group). By invoking causes with widespread appeal,
these groups succeeded in broadening their base of support, albeit from
students who may not have otherwise supported an overtly communist
organization.
For students who claimed to see through the veneer of leftist activists
(in fact, ‘Uthman and others routinely referred to them only as “com-
munists”), the period that followed the 1968 protests was a critical junc-
ture in which each side rallied its troops for the ensuing battle. While
the leftist students had the luxury of nearly two decades of dominance,
along with some important friends and considerable resources, the Is-
lamist students could not even count on the support of the sole religious
organization on campus, and were forced to commence their mission at a
severe disadvantage.
At the beginning of the 1968–1969 academic year, ‘Uthman appealed
to leaders of al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya to publish a political wall magazine.
These bulletins, which covered the walls of the university, were the most
unambiguous measure of student activism, which ‘Uthman boasted
were “the freest press in Egypt.”8 Leftist students had honed their skills
by publishing dozens of regular wall magazines around which hundreds
of students had crowded every morning and then continued to discuss
throughout the day. Independent wall magazines were few in number
and ran infrequently. Al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya declined ‘Uthman’s offer
and continued its habitual reposting of a Qur’anic verse or a Hadith,
which attracted few readers.9 ‘Uthman then took it upon himself to found
a new bulletin, entitled Ara’ Hurra (Free Opinions), which he proceeded
to edit until 1975. Initial articles focused on the general issues of corrup-
tion in Egypt and the reaction to the defeat. While most leftist students
asserted the need for a renewed alliance with the Eastern Bloc, ‘Uthman
argued for a “return to God and the rebuilding of the Egyptian citizen on
the basis of Islamic values and principles.”10
The dominant discourse within the university was challenged for the
first time in years, and the leftist student groups were alarmed at this
sudden arrival of a new opponent. Nonetheless, the subsequent months
would witness the rise of a spirited discussion among students that would
be unique to Cairo University’s College of Engineering. Students debated
the merits of the political trends available to them, while the leftists hoped
to solidify their place in the leadership of the student movement. The
two academic years from late 1969 through the spring of 1971 featured
no major outbreaks from the student movement. It was notably quiet
for at least two major reasons. For one, there were no significant events
or incidents to provoke the students into action.11 Moreover, these years
witnessed the final decline of the Nasser regime, culminating with his
death in September 1970. Many students preferred to approach the rise
of his successor with cautious observation before determining their next
course of action. Not long thereafter, however, this period proved to be, as
‘Uthman later recalled, the calm before the storm.
The Diverging Path of Student Protests

The process of lifting Egypt out of the Soviet camp became an early prior-
ity for Nasser’s successor. Sadat’s consolidation of power depended highly
on his ability to remove long-standing figures from the so-called centers
of power and to cultivate a new ideological program that centered on his
own claims to power. It was thus no surprise that leftist student activ-
ists felt threatened after the events of May 1971, while students such as
‘Uthman and his colleagues discerned a real sea change that would pave
the way for the resumption of Islamic activism for the first time in a gen-
eration. These young men believed the first step in that direction was to
exploit the developing rift between Sadat and the Soviet Union, revealing
that it was not in Egypt’s interest to forge ahead with that relationship,
and thereby discrediting the leftists who had staked their reputations on
the ascendency of the communist East in the face of the imperialist West.
‘Uthman spent the summer of 1972 working in an engineering train-
ing program in Holland, an opportunity provided to a select number of
Egyptian students each year. While there, he came upon an article in
Newsweek that detailed Sadat’s growing differences with the Soviets, es-
pecially on the issue of whether Egypt could go to war to reclaim the ter-
ritories occupied by Israel in 1967. Such a topic was considered a taboo
subject for discussion in Egypt, and as such, no one had reported on these
developments. Few Egyptians were aware of the seriousness of the differ-
ences in the Egyptian-Soviet relationship, especially the fact that Moscow
was obstructing Egyptian preparations for war. When the academic year
began that fall, the newest issue of Free Opinions carried a full translation
of the Newsweek piece, along with a commentary by ‘Uthman. The article
was so explosive that angry leftist students and security agents repeatedly
tore down the bulletin, only for more copies to pop up on walls around the
university grounds. The article was the first in a series of events that was
to dent the credibility of the leftist student leadership, which had reached
its zenith earlier in the year.
In January, the first phase of protests threatened to undo Sadat’s grad-
ual consolidation of power. Although 1971 was to be “the year of decision”
vis-à-vis Israel’s continued occupation of Egypt, months passed without
any resolution to the untenable situation of “no war, no peace.” Students
began to pressure the government into action by publicizing the issue
of Israel’s military presence and highlighting the plight of Palestinians
during a “Palestine Week” held in December at the College of Engineer-
ing.12 Sadat responded with a speech on January 13, 1972, in which he
cited the instability caused by the war fought between India and Pakistan,
along with an analogy of “the fog” in previous attempts to take on Israel,
as the reasons for the lack of action. The infamous “fog speech,” which
was intended to justify the regime’s inaction and allay growing restive-
ness, had the opposite effect of riling the anger of many Egyptians, espe-
cially among the student population. Under the banner of the Supporters
of the Palestinian Revolution, leftist university students led a series of
protests and sit-ins in mid-January.
In order to bypass the weak and ineffective Student Union, student
leaders combined the movements across multiple colleges to establish the
Higher National Committee of Cairo University Students (HNCCUS).
After a heated assembly dominated by leftist students, the committee
issued a list of demands for the government and staged a sit-in to dem-
onstrate their commitment to the issues. Although the Islamist students
joined in the effort, ‘Uthman noted that he became critical of the leader-
ship when they continued their protest even after most of their demands
had been met.13
In fact, ‘Uthman was selected as part of a student delegation that met
with Arab Socialist Union (ASU) officials, including Sayyid Mar‘i, the
minister of agriculture and a regime insider. The following day, the na-
tional press announced the government’s plans to take serious steps to
prepare for the war, including suspending classes to allow students to
commence military training. Rather than end the protests, however, the
Supporters of the Palestinian Revolution staged a new round of sit-ins
and agitated a large number of students to resume their anti-government

positions. ‘Uthman recalled:
I asked myself, what do they want? What is the point of another pro-
test? . . . I replayed the events of the previous three days in my mind
and concluded that the matter was a communist attempt to sow
chaos and seize control of the student community. Their reneging
on the training agreement confirmed it.14
As the sit-ins spread beyond Cairo University’s campus to other parts of

the city, the regime took more decisive action against the students and
their supporters. Following a series of police raids on January 24–25,
the protests were broken up and hundreds of people were arrested. The
government also withdrew its support for the statement in which it had
pledged to include the students in war preparations.15 Though it had failed
to achieve its primary objectives, the January 1972 protest allowed the
student movement to consolidate its power under a mostly leftist leader-
ship and saw the convergence of a burgeoning anti-communist bloc and
the decline of the Student Union, which became one of the weakest of-
ficial student organizations in Egyptian history. The long-term effects
would also be felt by the regime, as “this was the first occasion on which
President Sadat had had to face street riots, and it set a precedent which
he never forgave or forgot.”16
It is in this context that the student movement entered the fall 1972
semester, full of hope, energy, and dynamism. Though the momentum
was clearly in favor of the leftist students, who had helped establish the
Higher Committee only to take full control of it, ‘Uthman and his col-
leagues believed the supremacy of the leftist movement was ripe for con-
frontation. Both sides acknowledged that the weeks that followed featured
fierce attacks against the views of the other, both in print, as ‘Uthman had
done with his wall magazine’s opening issue of the term, and in person,
as supporters of both camps exchanged strong words and, on occasion,
blows over their political ideology of choice.17
For its part, the regime attempted to use this situation to its advantage.
On the one hand, the fact that neither side supported the government was
of concern to Sadat, who considered the wall magazines and their highly
critical viewpoints “obscene” expressions on the part of the students.18
Both the leftists and the Islamists opposed the delays in the war of lib-
eration and pushed an agenda of expanded freedoms and the restoration
of democracy in Egypt. On the other hand, Sadat stood to benefit from

the exploitation of the fundamental differences between the emerging
factions. He took specific measures that created the political space to
allow for the resumption of Islamic activism. Among these was the ap-
pointment of Ahmed Kamal Abul Magd as general secretary of the ASU
Youth Organization in August 1971. Abul Magd was a prominent attor-
ney with close ties to the Muslim Brotherhood, though he himself was
not a member. As Beattie noted, “His directorship augured well for some
degree of Islamization of that organization’s curriculum and activities.
This heightened the likelihood of Egyptian youth receiving a new type of
political socialization—one with a much heavier religious coloration.”19
During the student protests nearly six months later, it was Abul Magd on
whom the regime relied to quell the protesters, sending him to Cairo Uni-
versity’s auditorium to hear their concerns and provide reassurances, only
for him to be taunted and ridiculed by the students.20 When Sadat met
with students only days before Abul Magd’s appointment, he “told them
that the state would no longer interfere in student activities.”21 However,
these signals were precisely the impetus needed to encourage the rise of
new groups within the student movement.
The New Face of Islamic Activism

On November 16, 1972, ‘Uthman and several of his friends in the College
of Engineering, including ‘Esam al-Ghazali, an older student who had
become well-known for his political poetry, and ‘Adli Mustafa, a popular
student who had served as vice president of the Student Union and cap-
tain of the national volleyball team, came together at the college’s audi-
torium to announce the establishment of Gama‘at Shabab al-Islam (the
Society of the Youth of Islam). They were joined by Sheikh Muhammad
al-Ghazali, the prominent scholar and thinker. As ‘Uthman reminisced,
the event was a smashing success. “In the history of student meetings
held at the college, never was the auditorium so full. My eyes welled
with tears as I witnessed the widespread popular affirmation of our Is-
lamic movement.”22 That evening, the British Broadcasting Corporation
(BBC) radio news service reported on the event, announcing it as a take-
over of Cairo University’s Engineering College by the Muslim Brother-
hood, although the organization had not been mentioned at all during
the event.23 Perhaps this was a sign of the magnitude of the establish-
ment of Shabab al-Islam, as it was difficult to envision an active Islamic
movement organization in Egypt that was not affiliated with the Muslim
Brotherhood.
In the weeks leading up to the announcement, several developments
paved the way for the establishment of the first political Islamic organiza-
tion in nearly two decades. Mustafa, who had spent his summer working
in Germany, returned to Egypt with the determination to launch a stu-
dent group with an Islamic orientation to face off against an increasingly
polarizing leftist movement. ‘Esam al-Ghazali had been at the university
for many years and was on the verge of graduating, but believed in the
importance of this project and became a figure around whom many stu-
dents rallied. Known for his incisive poetry, Ghazali was viewed by many
of his peers as the visionary behind the movement and the heart and
soul of Shabab al-Islam. Together, Mustafa, Ghazali, and another student,
‘Abd al-Hamid Bahgat, traveled to the three-day conference of Cairo Uni-
versity’s Student Union that was held in Mansoura beginning on Octo-
ber 9, 1972. The delegation proposed the formation of a new group, and
despite fierce opposition from leftist student leaders, the Student Union’s
Committee on Religion and Society decreed the establishment of Shabab
al-Islam at the different faculties within Cairo University, with a mission
“to create an Islamic environment at the university and to inform stu-
dents of Islamic principles.”24
Shabab al-Islam’s account of this meeting, reported by ‘Uthman and
confirmed by Mustafa and Ghazali, differs from the Student Union’s of-
ficial conference report, which makes no mention of the organization’s
establishment. ‘Uthman maintained that this report was later amended
to remove any mention of Shabab al-Islam, a likely explanation consider-
ing that the organization could not have been announced and functioned
as openly as it did without some degree of official sanction. According
to the group’s recollection, Shabab al-Islam was a designated organiza-
tion within the Student Union, but was to operate with its own indepen-
dent budget. Its president was to have a seat on the council of the Student
Union, while the group itself could select a faculty advisor and maintain
its own membership list. The Cairo University Student Union officially
established Shabab al-Islam at the Engineering College on October 21.
In early November, the organization held a closed camp to determine its
internal structure. Mustafa was elected president. Additionally, five com-
mittees were created: (1) Thought and Callers; (2) Publication and Out-
reach; (3) Communication; (4) Preparation; and (5) Follow-up. Finally, a
larger coordination committee combined the heads of the five committees
with the group’s president, faculty advisor, and the college dean to deter-
mine the organization’s agenda.25
Almost immediately, the group began to hold events, inviting guest
speakers, hosting student-led political discussions, and posting articles in
‘Uthman’s wall magazine. It also used a series of press releases to set the
stage for Shabab al-Islam’s arrival on the scene of student activism. One
of the first statements called attention to the threat of external forces to
Egypt’s Islamic identity. While the obvious fear was the military danger
brought about by Israel’s occupation, a far greater danger lay in the ideo-
logical campaign waged to discredit Islam and replace it with foreign sys-
tems of social organization. Once the threat was sufficiently described,
Shabab al-Islam issued its call to action:
Patience has run out, for there is no path but that of serious, hard
work. We need to be sprung out of this false world that has brought
us nothing but backwardness and defeat. We need to spring forth
this faith through honor and victory, to use its glimmering light to
launch us toward redemption. Our brothers, this is the path of re-
demption. Get out of the path of the weak slaves to the path of God,
the almighty and powerful.26
The group’s leaders identified weakness, fear, and disunity as the major
obstacles to its success and called on students to face these three dangers
head-on through embracing their faith.27 However, another impediment
to the young organization’s progress came in the form of state efforts to
undermine its success. Shabab al-Islam’s first brush with authorities oc-
curred on November 14, when ASU officials sabotaged a scheduled lec-
ture by al-Bahi al-Khouli, a well-known Islamic thinker. According to
Ghazali, security agents visited Khouli at 3 am the previous night and told
him that they feared retaliation by leftist students at the event. Concern
over Khouli’s personal safety was a pretext, Shabab al-Islam would con-
tend, since the method and manner in which the message was delivered
was meant to intimidate the guest speaker, as well as to send a message to
the new organization that it would not survive for long without the active
support of the regime. At the scheduled event, Ghazali revealed the entire
incident to the audience and vowed that Shabab al-Islam would not be
deterred from its mission.
Two days later, its official launch event was held to great fanfare. Six
hundred people joined Shabab al-Islam that night alone, with hundreds
more joining in the days that followed. Its membership numbers swelled
to become far and away the largest student organization. Students from
other faculties came to sign up for membership, as did young profession-
als and workers from outside the university. ‘Uthman recalls that it made
his group “resemble a political party at a time when such a venture was
unheard of.”28
Organizational Challenges
The group’s activities continued with great success in the weeks that fol-
lowed, but a set of new challenges was not far behind, whether from the
government or fellow students. Shortly after the initial announcement,
Shabab al-Islam’s leadership was contacted by Muhammad ‘Uthman
Isma‘il, an ASU official and future governor of Assiut who had joined
Sadat’s inner circle and was intent on restraining leftist elements. At a
meeting in his office, Isma‘il offered Mustafa and ‘Uthman the regime’s
full support for their activities. He hoped to expand the organization’s ef-
forts within the university and pledged a sum of 10,000 Egyptian pounds
(a hefty amount in that period) to that end. He promised the two students
freedom to hold an annual summer camp for activists from all Egyptian
universities: in effect, the regime was determined to orchestrate Shabab
al-Islam’s control over the entire student movement. ‘Uthman recalled
that they were not being asked to spy on other students or take orders from
any higher power, but simply “to continue doing what we were doing.”29
Tempting though the offer was, both Mustafa and ‘Uthman politely
declined and promptly returned to their normal course of action, trying to
reach out to the student body.30 On December 21, Shabab al-Islam hosted
a meeting of student leaders from other faculties at the student cafeteria
in the College of Engineering. What brought all the groups together was
their common interest in combating the leftist forces dominating student
activism. With the regime now supporting the repression of commu-
nists, Marxists, and Nasserists within the student movement, the Student
Unions were tasked with carrying out this mission, but had little cred-
ibility or legitimate following within the student population. Thus, they
hoped to ride the coattails of the newly established Islamic organization
and sought to utilize its growth to the regime’s advantage.
‘Uthman later wrote that the discussion reflected a fundamental mis-
understanding among the students. Shabab al-Islam members had to
continuously repel suggestions of violent confrontation with the leftist
students, for which the Student Union leaders were agitating. They in-
sisted that violence was not to be used, even in the face of violence on
the part of the leftists and regardless of how abhorrent they found their
views.31 Mustafa also consistently had to push back suggestions to form
an anti-leftist student militia, and was ready to call off the summit when
Ghazali intervened. He thought the groups could still find some common
ground and suggested that they release a joint statement announcing
their platform. It began by requesting the Egyptian president to fulfill
his motto of “science and faith” by allowing Islamic thought to flourish
alongside capitalist and socialist ideologies.
Shabab al-Islam’s leaders were stunned when one student stepped for-
ward, offering to print ten thousand copies of the release, not an easy sum
of paper to come by for most student groups, suggesting that he enjoyed
the support of far more powerful forces. The following day, the release
was issued in the name of the various student groups, but with a number
of notable omissions, such as the call for the republication of works by
Hasan al-Banna and Sayyid Qutb. According to ‘Uthman, “the overall
statement was nothing more than an attack on communism phrased in
Islamic terms.”32 Shabab al-Islam immediately issued a statement de-
nouncing the press release and producing the unedited version.
This was not the first incident in which the organization was mis-
characterized by outside forces affiliated with the regime, who wished to
exploit its credibility with the student body. Shortly after the November
announcement, a group within the College of Law calling itself Shabab
al-Islam disrupted a meeting of leftist students, using knives to attack
the other students.33 As ‘Uthman wrote, “we immediately disavowed and
exposed them . . . and later discovered that the orders to this group came
from the office of the Arab Socialist Union’s general secretary.”34
Indeed, by early 1973, and especially under the cover of the new
round of student protests, Shabab al-Islam’s leaders struggled to con-
trol the name of their organization. It was consistently cited in violent
confrontations between leftist students and security forces. Mustafa
repeatedly heard of new chapters of the group sprouting up in various
colleges, without the approval, or even knowledge, of Shabab al-Islam’s
founders at the College of Engineering. The leaders took measures to
limit the damage that foreign elements could inflict on the organization.
Mustafa issued a statement announcing that the only official chapter of
Shabab al-Islam was the one at Cairo University’s College of Engineering
and even announced a list of just five students who were authorized to
speak on behalf of the organization. As Ghazali had already graduated,

the list included Mustafa, ‘Uthman, Bahgat, Sayyid ‘Azzazi, and Mustafa
al-Simari.35
Additionally, Mustafa proceeded to expunge the membership list of
students who previously had acted as provocateurs or who were known
to have ties with leftist groups or the regime. “All were still welcome to
attend our events,” he said, “but only we could speak on behalf of the orga-
nization.”36 These efforts did not stop others from attempting to represent
or associate themselves with Shabab al-Islam. ‘Uthman reported that, “[s]
tate security tried to spread the rumor that we were their creation. Known
informants would try and defend us publicly knowing it would ruin our
reputation.”37 So severe was the problem that the sides occasionally came
to blows over the attempts by some to usurp the voice of Shabab al-Islam.
Mustafa acted as the enforcer in these instances, at one point beating a
student who continued to claim to speak for the organization, and in
another instance, even calling on the assistance of his volleyball team-
mates in a showdown with other students.38
Direct efforts by the government to co-opt Shabab al-Islam continued
through a variety of tactics that included inducements as well as threats.
Following the rejection of Isma‘il’s offer and then the renunciation of
the united student press release (which ostensibly had the backing of the
regime), state security agents conducted overnight raids of the student
movement on December 30, 1972. Approximately seventy students were
arrested; the overwhelming majority of them were leaders of the various
leftist groups. One of those arrested, however, was ‘Esam al-Ghazali, the
unifying force within Shabab al-Islam. The arrest delivered a devastating
blow to Shabab al-Islam. Without its charismatic elder, internal divisions
became more acute. The group’s leaders were divided as to whether or
not to combine their efforts with those of the leftist students to free their
abducted comrades.
The government raids were conducted in the shadow of renewed ef-
forts by the student movement to lobby for more freedoms and political
space. Only days earlier, a summit by a student organization called the
National Democratic Group issued demands for new Student Union elec-
tions, or in the event that they did not take place, the establishment of an
independent union that genuinely represented student interests. While
some students saw this move as the legitimate expression of student aspi-
rations for freedom and democracy, Shabab al-Islam was highly critical of
the proposal, believing it to be a new tactic to legitimize leftist leadership
of the student movement.39 Mere hours before the mass arrests, Sadat
gave an angry speech calling for “‘the practice of democracy without fear’
and stated that ‘as of this night’ he would not allow the country’s youth to
be misled by ‘the fanatical right or the adventurist left.’”40 These events
were the spark that officially brought about the student protests of 1973.
As ‘Abdalla described it:
A wave of protest broke out in five Egyptian universities and in a

number of higher institutes. This took the form of mass meetings,
sit-ins in various faculties, leaflets and wall-magazines and con-
frontations with security forces around the university campuses,
which resulted in serious disruption of studies. 41
Efforts by Shabab al-Islam to unite with other groups were often ineffec-
tive and disjointed. Mustafa and ‘Uthman refused to adopt a broad plat-
form of political demands because of the major differences they had with
the leftists, agreeing only to call for the release of the arrested students.
On issues of tactics, the groups also voiced major disagreements. Leftist
students proposed to lead a march outside the university walls, in which
Shabab al-Islam’s leaders refused to participate, because they believed it
would serve as a pretext for the government to shut down the university
and lock its gates, as they had done a year earlier, forcing the students to
disperse and effectively ending the protests. ‘Uthman worried that, as a
new group, the university’s closure would be the worst possible outcome
for Shabab al-Islam because it would slow the movement’s momentum
and possibly destroy the organization.
Instead, his colleagues determined to take a different course of action:
on January 2, 1973, they staged a sit-in at the office of Dr. Fu’ad ‘Asal, the
dean of the College of Engineering. With only a handful of students join-
ing Shabab al-Islam’s chosen method of protest, the sit-in quickly turned
into a hunger strike, the first of its kind in several decades. Although the
hunger strike made waves within the university, prompting professors
and administrators to plead with students to end their demonstration,
the move failed to gain traction with the public at large, and went un-
noticed by the media. It ended a day later, as ‘Asal successfully convinced
the students to leave his office, and they eventually dropped their protest
altogether. ‘Uthman later expressed his regret that Shabab al-Islam had
not taken a stronger stand from the outset and had not capitalized on the
large number of students willing to participate in a protest within the
university walls rather than joining the leftists in their march through
the streets of Cairo. 42
Not wanting to take any more chances, the government shut down the
university. Protests continued for weeks across the country, with Assiut
University students engaging in historic marches never before seen in
upper Egypt. On occasion, Shabab al-Islam came together with the leftist
groups to issue joint statements demanding the release of the detained
students, the withdrawal of university police, and the lifting of restric-
tions on student activism. In several speeches, Sadat responded with a
hard-line position that was highly critical of the student movement and
implied that a larger conspiracy was at work. A parliamentary investiga-
tion concluded that outside forces—from the Left and the Right—were
responsible for corrupting the students and using them in their bid to
destabilize the government. Despite accusations that the student move-
ment stood against democracy, it was actually the regime that continued
to restrict the activities of Egyptian students, banning wall magazines
and placing universities under the control of security agents, in addition
to expelling hundreds of ASU members, as Muhammad ‘Uthman Isma‘il
had done.
While participating in the protests, Shabab al-Islam also began to
engage members of the regime to pursue the release of their arrested
leader. An attempt to visit Ghazali in prison failed after a verbal alterca-
tion with a prison guard who insulted the female president of the Stu-
dent Union. Subsequently, however, ‘Uthman recalled that in meetings
with ASU officials, some of them at the senior levels of leadership, he and
Mustafa were consistently surprised at how friendly and gracious the offi-
cials were, with many of them hoping to impress their Islamic credentials
upon their young visitors, visibly praying as they came in to the office,
or placing Qur’ans prominently on their desks. Most of them stressed
how supportive they were of Shabab al-Islam’s mission, and some even
offered to lend their support, including Isma‘il, who continuously offered
financial incentives and the full backing of the ASU. ‘Uthman noted the
irony in that, while regime figures constantly lavished his organization
with praise, one of its leaders continued to languish in prison without any
officials working toward his release. 43
In fact, it was only after Shabab al-Islam retained the pro bono ser-
vices of a prominent attorney, Muhammad Shawkat al-Tuni, that Ghazali
was eventually released from prison without charges, on March 24, nearly
three months after his arrest. The 1973 protests ended with the release
of most students, though some still had to face trials on charges related
to their political activities. On the eve of the October War, however, the
regime dropped the charges and ended the trials in an effort to galvanize
the nation in support of the war effort.
Multidimensional Activism
Shabab al-Islam resumed its activities that fall, taking on a number of
important issues, not the least of which was the impending war to reclaim
the occupied territories. Sadat successfully galvanized the nation in sup-
port of the war effort, including the leaders of the student movement, who
established defense committees in the various universities across Egypt.
In its activities, Shabab al-Islam also led the way in educating students
about the plight of Muslims in other parts of the world. Speakers, from
Eritrea to the Philippines, were invited to give presentations on the op-
pressive conditions facing Muslims in these countries. As Mustafa later
recalled, for most Egyptians, it was the first time they were even made
aware that these places were home to Muslims. 44 An occasional lecture
on the situation of Muslim communities in the various Soviet republics
was sure to raise the ire of leftist students, already under attack for their
support of the Soviet Union at a time when the political winds in Egypt
were steadily shifting from East to West.
In regular study circles, Shabab al-Islam members read and discussed
works by many of the most influential modern Islamic thinkers, from
Banna to Qutb, and Mawdudi to ‘Ali ‘Abd al-‘Azim. The students were also
frequently joined by prominent figures such as Muhammad al-Ghazali,
‘Isa ‘Abduh, and Sayyid Sabiq.
Although dominated entirely by male students, Shabab al-Islam also
sponsored occasional activities for female students. Segregated meetings
and conferences were organized and led by women, focusing on many
of the same issues as the events organized by their male counterparts.
These events also tackled the larger political questions facing the coun-
try, as well as matters of ritual and practice, some of which were tailored
specifically to their female audience. In contrast to the year he began
university, when virtually no women wore the headscarf, Mustafa ob-
served that the practice had spread considerably by the time he gradu-
ated in 1975. Indeed, though Islamic student activism was largely a male
domain, its success was partially measured by the visibility of female re-
ligious observance.
In addition to the wall magazines, by 1974, Shabab al-Islam had also

launched an official publication, Wa Islamah. The sixty-page magazine
produced six issues over the course of a year and covered topics ranging
from religious instruction and student mobilization to national politics
and international causes. In a typical issue, for example, Mustafa’s open-
ing editorial lamented the aggressive posturing on the part of some stu-
dents as they attempted to coerce their colleagues into joining the Islamic
movement. This was followed with a critical book review by ‘Uthman of a
recent work on da‘wa by a popular Islamic writer. Another article made an
impassioned plea to unify the Islamic movement in the university, asking
the rhetorical question, “If we as students cannot realistically impact the
state of despair and disunity afflicting Muslims throughout the world,
then can we not at least change our own state of affairs?”45 The remain-
ing pieces included an article challenging the minister of information
over censorship policies, reports about the plight of Muslims in Eritrea
and Somalia, and a political poem entitled, “A Window onto Hell.” The
magazine demonstrated the evolution of Shabab al-Islam, as it was a more
sophisticated vehicle for transmitting its message and providing more
depth to the issues it advocated. But it was to be short-lived, as the organi-
zation itself was nearing its end.
An End and a Beginning

In spite of its successful infusion of an Islamic component to the student
movement, Shabab al-Islam ultimately succumbed to both external as well
as internal pressures and ceased to function after 1975. Efforts to co-opt
the organization for the regime’s purposes continued to take their toll on
student leaders. ‘Uthman and Mustafa had yet another meeting with a top
government official in 1973. This time it was Ahmed Kamal Abul Magd
who offered the young men incentives to coordinate their group with the
regime. Additionally, Abul Magd hoped to instill some degree of fear into
the student leaders should they proceed independently. He told them
that they had earned Sadat’s anger and that it was only through his own
intervention that they were spared a fate worse than ‘Esam al-Ghazali’s
brief imprisonment. Mustafa became angered at the suggestion that Abul
Magd had saved Shabab al-Islam from the wrath of Sadat, and abruptly
left the meeting. He later recalled that he “could not sit down with some-
one who did not treat us as equals, someone who believed they had us by
the neck and held something over us.”46
Shabab al-Islam’s relationship with al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya also

played an important part in the decline of the former, as the latter
reached its ascendancy in the mid-1970s. As early as November 1972,
Shabab al-Islam hoped to include the religiously observant contingent
of students at Cairo University in charting out its organization. While
links were forged between the leaderships of both groups, al-Gam‘iyya
al-Diniyya repeatedly withdrew its support for the overtly political ac-
tivist organization. On the eve of Shabab al-Islam’s announcement, a
meeting between the core members of both groups at al-Gam‘iyya
al-Diniyya’s modest prayer hall, led by Mustafa of Shabab al-Islam

and ‘Esam al-Sheikh of al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya, ended in agreement to
jointly announce the launch of the new group, only for Sheikh to with-
draw his organization’s support at the eleventh hour. Another attempt
to unify the groups a month later ended in failure when, according to
Mustafa, al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya insisted that ‘Uthman and al-Ghazali
be removed from Shabab al-Islam as a condition for its members join-
ing. Elections scheduled for that day were hampered by al-Gam‘iyya
al-Diniyya’s change of heart, as it moved its meeting to a different loca-
tion from the agreed-upon site of the elections. 47
The disagreements between the two groups stemmed from their dif-
ferent visions of Islamic activism. Shabab al-Islam’s model grew out of
the student movement of the 1960s. Though it staunchly disagreed with
its leftist counterpart, in many ways it captured the essence of its activist
trend. As is detailed in Chapter 4, al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya (subsequently,
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya) relied on a different model, one that emphasized
strong hierarchical leadership and an Islamic basis for the organizational
structure, complete with a position of “amir.” Their camps and activi-
ties also maintained a far more rigid religious tone, one that was influ-
enced by the steady infusion of Salafi thought—a mark of the 1970s shift
in Egyptian religious culture. One of Shabab al-Islam’s main critiques
of al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya was its unwillingness to allow its rank-and-
file members the freedom to think and decide for themselves. Without
Sheikh’s approval, no member of al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya was allowed to
join Shabab al-Islam, forcing Mustafa to rely on the general student popu-
lation, whose religious credentials were less assured, to make up the bulk
of Shabab al-Islam’s base. 48
Indeed, the tension between the two groups was palpable, as one orga-
nization’s downfall meant the ascendancy of the other. Opinions varied
within Shabab al-Islam as to whether al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya actively
aided the government’s tactics against it, or if it simply offered an alter-

native for the regime to co-opt once Shabab al-Islam refused overtures
by state officials. Mustafa believed that not only did its leaders help to
propagate rumors that Shabab al-Islam was secretly an organ of the state,
but that it was in fact al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya that actually accepted the
government’s offer of support for its activities, evidenced by the lavish
camps organized in the years following Shabab al-Islam’s departure. 49
While ‘Uthman did not go so far as to suggest collusion on the part of
Sheikh, he believed that al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya stood to gain the most
from the organizational failure of Shabab al-Islam; its overly cautious po-
litical strategy allowed it to survive efforts to subdue the most vocal wing
of the student movement, while Shabab al-Islam was on the front lines of
that struggle.
On the other side, depictions of Shabab al-Islam by members of
al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya (and later, the Muslim Brotherhood) were often
quite derogatory. It was frequently portrayed as a creation of the state, not
only to combat the leftist student movement, but also to undermine the
legitimate Islamic movement as led by al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya. Its fail-
ure in that effort, according to some accounts, was because the students
of Shabab al-Islam failed to embody Islamic ideals in their daily lives,
by openly smoking and engaging female students. They also could not
build their credibility because at the events they held, their guest speakers
were regime officials.50 According to this narrative, Shabab al-Islam was
a government tool that failed in its mission to bring all Islamic activism
under its control. A more recent academic study on the Islamic movement
during this period relates the same picture: that Shabab al-Islam was the
brainchild of Muhammad ‘Uthman Isma‘il, which failed to attract “genu-
inely Islamic” activist students to it.51
In any case, 1974 was the pivotal year during which Shabab al-Islam
was succeeded by al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, whose leaders held their first
major camp that summer. The principal figures of Shabab al-Islam had
either already graduated, or were on the verge of completing their studies.
When its founder graduated a year later, he told the remaining members
to join al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya to avoid any divisions in the Islamic move-
ment. According to Mustafa, most did not mind, as the younger members
had only recently joined Shabab al-Islam and were not party to the divi-
sions that defined the 1972–1973 period. Those who did not join generally
quit activism altogether, but no one tried to form a competing group out
of the ashes of Shabab al-Islam.52
Islamic Activism for a New Age: The Legacy

of Shabab al-Islam
In the broad narrative of Islamic activism since the late 1960s, Shabab
al-Islam is almost universally excluded from the standard timeline. What-
ever brief mention it receives is usually dismissive and accusatory in tone.
This is partly a product of the reality that contemporary Islamic activ-
ism in Egypt is dominated by the Muslim Brotherhood, to which Shabab
al-Islam had no direct connection. In contrast, al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya is
frequently portrayed as the predecessor to the resumption of Islamic ac-
tivism on a large scale, due primarily to the fact that most of its members
eventually joined the Muslim Brotherhood. It is therefore instructive to
reflect on the legacy of Shabab al-Islam and its contribution to Egyptian
society. In a critical period of transition, Shabab al-Islam acted as the
bridge between the radical politics that defined the student movement of
the late 1960s and the emergence of a rejuvenated Islamic movement in
the mid-1970s.
The founders of Shabab al-Islam, young men like ‘Adli Mustafa, Wa’il
‘Uthman, and ‘Esam al-Ghazali, traced their intellectual upbringing to the
Islamic trends that dominated that era: the ritualism of Ansar al-Sunna,
the legalism of al-Gam‘iyya al-Shar‘iyya, and the social consciousness of
al-Ikhwan al-Muslimun. Despite these influences, this generation of youth
did not join any of these groups and lacked the organizational structure to
guide its activities. ‘Uthman recalled that they “did not have elders to look
up to, there was no generation of mentors in our group. We were on our
own.”53 The message that was distilled from the many intellectual cur-
rents was a simplified version of Islamically conscious politics, as Mustafa
summed up in his statement, “We are an organization to announce the
word of God. We believe that no one should determine the fate of Mus-
lims but Muslims, and that the student leadership should be Islamic, not
communist, socialist, Nasserist, Western, or secularist.”54 Following years
of frustration due to individual efforts, the Islamically conscious students
came together to form an organization that united their beliefs and their
mission under one banner.
Although it was religious in character and, as its leaders maintained,
the first political Islamic organization of that period, Shabab al-Islam
did not hark back to a bygone era of Islamic politics or adopt the model
established by organizations such as the Muslim Brotherhood in the
1940s. Rather, it operated within the same vein as its ideological foes
and appropriated their system of organization. Thus, while it blanketed

its message in an Islamic hue, Shabab al-Islam relied on much the same
modes of pursuing its mission as its leftist adversaries. For one, Shabab
al-Islam adopted the vanguardist model that saw the newly urbanized and
privileged middle class youth as part of a unique generation destined to
become the future leaders of society. ‘Uthman stated that much of Shabab
al-Islam’s activities were only possible because of the commitment of its
leaders, who spent their own allowances to fund them.55 These students
also believed it was their role to lead the laborers and bureaucrats who
were energized by the group’s mission but were too afraid to become in-
volved in its daily activities.
In the course of its activism, Shabab al-Islam’s repertoire consisted
of many of the same traits that defined the broader student movement:
wall magazines, banners and slogans, sit-ins and marches, heated wars of
words and the occasional violent brawl. It also released formal statements,
ratified resolutions, and joined in larger institutional efforts, whether by
endorsing ad hoc unity organizations or imploring the Student Union to
take official action. In short, the students of this period were the children
of the revolution and embodied its spirit in their actions, even when the
focus of their advocacy was contrary to the prevailing political ideology
of the time. Their model was the protest movement of 1968, not only in
Egypt’s universities, but also in the educational halls of France, where
student fervor was at its height and the collective action of the youth rever-
berated among Egyptian students, some of whom were directly exposed
to European political culture during their summers abroad.
In addition to its own methods and motivations, Shabab al-Islam suc-
ceeded in galvanizing support for religious activism in part due to the
timing of its emergence and the external factors that paved the way for
its arrival.56 By all accounts, the period that witnessed the decline of the
Nasser regime and Sadat’s consolidation of power was strategically sig-
nificant, if not imperative, for the rise of new opposition movements in
Egypt. Nasser’s decade and a half of repression successfully excluded
opposing political forces and silenced all dissent, but the shock of the
1967 defeat provided just the opportunity for the opposition to coalesce.
As Nasser attempted to correct the course of his regime, de Tocqueville’s
words from two centuries earlier rang true: “the most perilous moment
for a bad government is when it seeks to mend its ways.”57
Egyptians, led by the students, guessed correctly that the regime was
in no position to repress the new opposition with the same ferocity that
it had previously enforced internal security measures. Consequently, the

slightly opened political space provided just the opportunity for students
to express their frustrations. In the university environment, this mani-
fested in the relaxation of censorship laws, resulting in the highly politi-
cized wall magazines and the gradual withdrawal of the university guard,
creating the space for mass demonstrations and marches. Moreover, stu-
dents found a moderate degree of success when their pleas to the state
were heard at the highest levels. The dramatic scenes of student delega-
tions confronting the prime minister in a public forum established a new
precedent for social movement interactions with the state, one that was to
be repeated throughout the 1970s. Students were given more room to op-
erate because their protests were not viewed as a threat in the same light
as movements with fuller political objectives, such as the Muslim Broth-
erhood. As the frustrations of Sadat, Isma‘il, and Abul Magd demonstrate,
at its worst, the student movement was still only perceived as the product
of youthful indiscretions or the plotting of some foreign political forces.
As Mustafa recalled, the burning question that he and his colleagues
faced constantly during interrogations was “Who is behind you?”58
While Shabab al-Islam generally experienced the same opening as the
broader student movement, its position as an Islamic movement gave it
an occasional slight edge over its leftist counterparts. During his consoli-
dation of power, Sadat repeatedly threatened political agitators from “the
fanatical Right” to “the adventurist Left” and even made good on those
threats with the 1972 wave of arrests that afflicted students from both
camps. However, in its recalibration of the country’s political identity, the
regime also specifically reached out to leaders of the Islamic movement,
thus providing Shabab al-Islam with opportunities to pursue its agenda
in a variety of other ways. The multiple meetings between regime officials
and leaders of Shabab al-Islam added another dimension to the group’s
activities and granted the students a greater understanding of the inner
workings of the political machine. However, this too came with a cost.
Whatever Shabab al-Islam gained from its ability to hold direct talks with
the state, it lost in credibility with the student population, at times giving
the appearance that the organization was yet another government arm. In
fact, the organization suffered a double blow, as its dealings with the state
often served only to prove the organization’s limitations. Shabab al-Islam’s
members continued to suffer intimidation, repression, and arrests, and
ultimately found it impossible to free their imprisoned comrade through
these back channels. Mustafa later conceded that “[w]hen they arrested
‘Esam, they almost killed the movement because he was our elder. . . . We
looked up to him and rallied around him.”59 Thus, while Shabab al-Islam
enjoyed a wider array of political opportunities than its adversaries, it also
experienced firsthand the constraints imposed by a closed system.
As a smaller movement that did not have the benefit of years of wide-
spread political indoctrination, the burgeoning Islamic movement was
frequently working against the odds established by Nasser’s ideological
project and promoted by leftist students. Shabab al-Islam had the benefit
of the rich legacy of Islamic activism, symbolized in the Muslim Broth-
erhood, but the organization could not rely solely on past successes. It
needed to present a vision of Islam in sync with contemporary times and
in the language of its generation. The framing processes of Shabab al-
Islam signaled the first active construction of an Islamic paradigm in
the post-1967 era. Just as Qutb’s Milestones epitomized the state of Islam
during the darkest years of the Nasser period, Shabab al-Islam attempted
to find a glimmer of hope in the receding of Nasser’s regime. The concept
of the Islamic system was developed and articulated in direct opposition to
the prevailing ideological trends of the time: communism and capitalism.
From ‘Uthman’s first wall magazine and Shabab al-Islam’s earliest
press releases to its later publications, a concerted effort was undertaken
to establish the threat of external political ideologies and to position Islam
as the natural alternative to these foreign systems by contrasting their
failures with Islam’s rich legacy of success. In the face of immense chal-
lenges ranging from Israeli occupation to economic stagnation and un-
derdevelopment, Islamic concepts were utilized to provide a solution, a
source of empowerment, and a means to achieve what had eluded the
nation for far too long. Additionally, Shabab al-Islam engaged in a process
of internationalization of the Islamic movement, aiming to impress upon
Egyptian youth that their struggle was a universal one, part of a broader
movement to overcome adversity throughout the Islamic world. It used its
platform to raise awareness of the plight of Muslims the world over, with
the hopes that deeper bonds of religious solidarity would overcome the
nationalist sentiments on which Nasser had built his entire enterprise.
Along the timeline of Islamic activism in Egypt, Shabab al-Islam
stands alone as the unique expression of a generation that came of age
during a critical period of transition in Egypt’s modern political history.
It marked the return of the Islamic movement and paved the way for the
re-emergence of some of its most significant actors, such as the Muslim
Brotherhood. Through its interactions with the state, Shabab al-Islam also
revealed the intentions of the nascent Sadat regime to cultivate its religious
credentials, possibly sooner than it otherwise would have done. On the
popular level, it contributed to the reassertion of Islamic identity within

Egyptian society, demonstrated by the massive reception to its programs
and activities. This process gathered more steam and continued long after
Shabab al-Islam had left the scene. It also helped to usher in a new era of
a globalized Islamic consciousness that would come to epitomize the Is-
lamic movement during the latter decades of the twentieth century.
Despite its many contributions, however, Shabab al-Islam also suffered
from a number of shortcomings that spelled its failure to persist beyond
the generation of its founders. As occurs with many social movements,
especially those that are defined by the age group of its members, the
ability to sustain the movement beyond the initial phase is highly depen-
dent on a strong organizational structure. In the case of Shabab al-Islam,
the idea for which it stood was far stronger than the organization’s abil-
ity to control its direction. Internally, the group’s founders acknowledged
that they lacked the knowledge and experience to maintain a rigid orga-
nizational structure, and were too often concerned mainly with Shabab
al-Islam’s message, rather than its structure. External forces, in the form
of rival student groups and meddling state officials, contributed to Shabab
al-Islam’s inability to maintain control over its public image as the actions
of others were often attributed to the organization. As Mustafa lamented,
“we allowed too many people to enter, which gave us less control. . . . We
were hit organizationally.”60
This was to have direct implications for the future of the Islamic move-
ment. A primary reason that al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya eventually succeeded
where Shabab al-Islam failed is that it focused an immense amount of
its energies on building a strong centralized organizational structure.
Not only did it adopt the Muslim Brotherhood “idea,” as Shabab al-Islam
had done, but it also embraced the Muslim Brotherhood’s organizational
model. In its failure to endure, Shabab al-Islam would unwittingly dem-
onstrate that, although the Muslim Brotherhood was more than an orga-
nization, the organization was vital to sustain the movement’s efforts in
the long term. ‘Uthman recalled that during the interrogation of Shabab
al-Islam leaders by state security officials they were told, “you were the
spark that became the flame. If we had let you continue, your flame would
have engulfed the entire country.”61 While Shabab al-Islam’s flame may
have been extinguished prematurely, these officials could not compre-
hend that the dying embers would give life to a new fire, one that saw the
Islamic movement established as a permanent fixture in Egyptian politi-
cal life through a familiar name that was destined to return.
3
Return of the Brothers
In February 1971, as Anwar al-Sadat released the first wave of Muslim

Brotherhood leaders from the prisons of Gamal Abdel Nasser, an elder in
the group, a lawyer named ‘Umar al-Tilmisani, immediately set out for
the ‘Abdin Presidential Palace. Upon entering the lobby of one of Egypt’s
most impressive modern structures, a relic of the monarchy that was
seamlessly transitioned into a symbol of the revolution, Tilmisani walked
to the guest registry and wrote down a message of gratitude to Sadat for
the compassion he showed in freeing him and his long-imprisoned col-
leagues.1 With that gesture, the Muslim Brotherhood appeared ready to
turn the page—quite literally—on its relationship with the regime that
had been in power since the Free Officers revolted in 1952. Less than three
years later, as Egyptians celebrated their nation’s impressive showing in
the October 1973 war with Israel, Tilmisani was in the process of becom-
ing the newest general guide of the organization, a development that was
to foreshadow the Muslim Brotherhood’s re-emergence as Egypt’s chief
Islamic movement organization and the leading force of political opposi-
tion in the decade that followed.
The Muslim Brotherhood’s path to reclaiming its place in Egyptian
society was by no means decorated with flowers. Rather, it was long, ardu-
ous, and fraught with new challenges, the likes of which the organization
had not experienced in its four-decade history. Following an intricate yet
at times inexact process of reappraisal and adaptation, this period resulted
in a Muslim Brotherhood that was well suited to operate within a new
set of constraints and tackle the pressing issues of the day. This chapter
chronicles the experiences of the Muslim Brotherhood’s leaders in the
critical years after attaining their newfound freedom. Because the orga-
nization was in such a state of disarray following a nearly twenty-year
absence, it is no surprise that most historical studies of the organization

during the 1970s do not begin until the middle part of the decade, with
some even dating the Muslim Brotherhood’s re-emergence to the 1976 in-
augural publication of its monthly magazine, al-Da‘wa.2 In order to grasp
the progression in the group’s makeup, however, it is vital to examine
the tenuous period that preceded it, taking into account both the internal
and external forces that would shape the future course of the Muslim
Brotherhood.
In contrast to earlier periods, the intellectual project around which
the Muslim Brotherhood was established no longer held sway as the only
activist-oriented ideology within the Islamic movement. To the surprise
of many of the organization’s leaders, other Islamic intellectual trends
had begun to compete for followers in the Muslim Brotherhood’s absence.
Du‘a la Quda, the tract penned by Hasan al-Hudaybi, turned out to be
just the opening salvo in a drawn-out battle between the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s leadership and its ideological competitors, a rivalry that would
come to define the entire decade. In addition to Sayyid Qutb’s eager fol-
lowers, however, a number of other intellectual currents began to perme-
ate Egypt from across the Islamic world. The first section of this chapter
addresses the increasing diversity within the field of Islamic activism,
with the aim of disambiguating the various trends and identifying what
relationship, if any, they had to the Muslim Brotherhood and its intellec-
tual school.
Dovetailing with the exploration of competing ideological trends is a
section on the consequences these had in the form of new organizations
to house them. If the traditional strength of the Muslim Brotherhood
lay in its ability to bring people within its organizational fold, the rise
of competing groups who claimed to represent more fully the needs and
aspirations of everyday Egyptians could (and often did) pose an unwanted
challenge to its authority. In fact, as demonstrated in greater detail below,
the existence of a range of Islamic organizations played an important role
in the Muslim Brotherhood’s determination to reconstitute its structure
at a time when such a decision was by no means inevitable. Moreover, the
diversity of groups, some of which operated completely in secret, provided
the Muslim Brotherhood with an opportunity to distinguish itself from
the rise of fringe elements pursuing a militant path and possibly to attain
for itself a better standing with the state.
However, the posture of the regime was not a constant in this equation.
The next section addresses the role that Sadat played in bringing Islamic
Return of the Brothers 77
politics in Egypt once again to the fore and the benefits as well as barriers
that this placed before the Muslim Brotherhood. Despite the outwardly
welcoming attitude to the space created for the discussion of Islam in the
public sphere, the Muslim Brotherhood’s leaders would find themselves
facing yet another challenge in the form of the regime’s appropriation of
religion for its own purposes. Reaching its zenith with the October War,
which featured “Allahu Akbar!” as the Egyptian military’s battle cry, this
process forced the field of Islamic activists to rethink their strategy and
tailor their mission to the changing political and social environs.
Upon identifying the range of external pressures that guided the tra-
jectory of the Muslim Brotherhood following the prison exodus, it is es-
sential also to take stock of the internal factors that would determine the
future of the organization. All indicators point to the fact that, even in
the aftermath of Nasser’s second wave of repression in 1965, the Muslim
Brotherhood still aspired to return to the scene. This effort was stepped
up following the 1967 defeat and picked up even more steam with Sadat’s
accession to power. It was not a question of “if” the Muslim Brotherhood
would return, but “how” it would reappear and in what capacity it would
pursue its mission. Divisions appeared within the ranks of the senior
leadership, and the debate over the nature of the organization’s renewed
structure ultimately yielded a solution built on compromise.
But efforts to implement the agreed-upon strategy to restore the
Muslim Brotherhood were interrupted by the more practical need for
many of the leaders and members to reclaim their place, as individuals, in
a society that had witnessed tremendous change in the two decades when
many of them were away. In most cases, this meant reconnecting with
one’s family, finding steady employment, and adjusting to the cultural
changes in Egyptian society. As this process wore on, it became clear that
the prison years took a terrible personal toll on the Muslim Brotherhood
members and this, in turn, complicated the process of regrouping the
members under an organizational umbrella.
It is no surprise then, that in attempting to reach out to the group,
Sadat set his sights on the exiled former members of the Muslim Brother-
hood living abroad in other Arab countries. With those initial contacts,
the stage was set for the resumption of da‘wa activities on a limited basis,
as the leadership of Hudaybi proceeded with his trademark policy of ex-
treme caution. The events of late 1973 were of particular consequence for
the Islamic movement, which had to contend with Sadat’s strong showing
in the war, followed by Hudaybi’s death. The immediate decisions that
followed, whether on the structure of the organization or the essence of its

message, would shape the future of the Muslim Brotherhood.
A Marketplace of Ideas
In his investigation into the reappearance of medieval texts in 1970s
Egypt, Emmanuel Sivan noted that as he came upon fresh editions of
works by Ibn Taymiyya and Ibn Kathir in many a Cairo bookshop, he
“was struck by the degree to which the basic message of these writings
had been driven home.”3 Describing the motivations of their audience,
he continued, “it is a response to contemporary problems they sought in
these exegeses of five-to-seven-hundred-year-old texts, trying to weave
them into the texture of their own, quite modern, life.”4 Chronicling the
phenomenon that he termed “the New Radicalism,” Sivan proceeded
to declare it a “reaction to Nasserism and Ba‘thism,” tracing its origins
to Qutb’s Milestones and viewing its core idea as “the total rejection of
modernity . . . since modernity represents the negation of God’s sover-
eignty (hakimiyya) in all fields of life and relegation of religion to the
dustbin of history.”5
Taken in isolation from the larger context, Sivan’s argument certainly
holds considerable merit. Indeed, the examples he provided, from the
militant activism of Shukri Mustafa and ‘Abd al-Salam Faraj, lend cre-
dence to the notion that, aided by the restoration of medieval texts (com-
plete with new commentaries), a radical intellectual current took hold of a
small segment of Islamic activists, resulting in a rejection of mainstream
society and violent contention against the state. However, Sivan’s analy-
sis did little to explain how texts representing such a seemingly isolated
trend could have made such waves across Egypt that they “were quickly
snatched off the bookstalls by people in all walks of life, but especially by
youngsters in modern garb.”6 A wider look at the burgeoning marketplace
of religious ideas in Egypt during the late 1960s and early 1970s reveals
a more vibrant and diverse field, one in which young and old alike could
easily wade into intellectual waters of varying consistencies and depths.
In the mid-1930s, Hasan al-Banna described the Muslim Brother-
hood, his blossoming new organization, as “a Salafiyya message, a Sunni
way, a Sufi truth, a political organization, an athletic group, a cultural-
educational union, an economic company, and a social idea.” The first of
those qualities refers to the intellectual school from which Banna’s idea
for the organization originated. The movement of Islamic modernism
was given life by such figures as Sayyid Jamal al-Din al-Afghani and his
Egyptian disciple, Muhammad ‘Abduh, who went on to become the rector
of al-Azhar at the dawn of the twentieth century. But just as these early
thinkers contemplated the challenge of bringing Islam into accord with a
rapidly changing modern world, later thinkers, such as ‘Abduh’s disciple,
Muhammad Rashid Rida, had to contend with the reality of Western en-
croachment on Islamic societies, and saw the challenge as one of bringing
the external influences of modernity in line with basic Islamic precepts.
The abolishment of the caliphate in 1924 heightened the crisis facing
the Islamic nation in the minds of many Muslim thinkers, some of whom
began to refocus their energies on more innovative methods to rejuvenate
the Ummah (the global body of Muslims). The modernist Salafi school
advanced a program centered on the return to the classical age of Islamic
history, following in the footsteps of the Prophet Muhammad and the first
generation of believers, or al-Salaf al-Salih. This movement also featured
a renewed emphasis on the textual authenticity offered by the Qur’an and
the Hadith as the primary sources governing society. It is in the spirit of
this intellectual movement that Banna founded his organization in 1928,
with the blessing of Rida, from whom he inherited the seminal reformist
periodical, al-Manar.
However, the turn-of-the-century modernists were not the only think-
ers to invoke the memory of the golden age of Islamic history. In fact, the
medieval scholar Taqi ad-Din Ahmad Ibn Taymiyya, also writing at a time
of crisis in the Muslim world, called for a return to the original sources
of Islam, seeking to purify the existing body of religious knowledge
from centuries of innovation and foreign influences. This conservative
Salafiyya, as it were, resonated with a later movement, that of Muham-
mad ibn ‘Abd al-Wahhab, an eighteenth-century reformer in the Arabian
peninsula. ‘Abd al-Wahhab’s efforts to purge his society of all un-Islamic
elements entailed a literalist interpretation of classical texts and eventu-
ally took on a state-building function to enforce a rigid application of the
law. This vision was realized with the establishment of the Saudi king-
dom, which adopted the Wahhabi school of thought as the state’s official
ideology.
Thus, by the mid-twentieth century, two varying strands of Salafi
thought had come to dominate different parts of the Muslim world. But
the combination of Nasser’s policy of repression in Egypt and the rise
of Saudi wealth and regional influence saw the trajectories of modernist
and traditionalist Salafi trends heading in vastly different directions. As
the Muslim Brotherhood’s leaders, the self-proclaimed heirs to modernist

Salafi thought, disappeared into Nasser’s prisons, the intellectual vacuum
they left behind was filled by the rise of popular preachers spreading a
conservative interpretation of Islamic texts. Through the sermons of ‘Abd
al-Hamid Kishk and the writings of Muhammad Nasiruldin al-Albani,
Egyptians were exposed to a more rigid, if decidedly apolitical, Islamic
current that influenced their understanding and practice of Islam. Men
were seen growing their beards and wearing traditional Islamic dress,
while women donned the headscarf in greater numbers than at any time
in the previous half-century.
In the absence of modernist lay thinkers without formal religious
training, such as Banna, Qutb, and their intellectual heirs, these scholars
set out to reaffirm the historic authority of traditional Islamic institutions,
led by al-Azhar. This was a two-step process: the first involved dissociat-
ing the leading institution of Islamic learning from the secular state by
disavowing Nasser’s modernization efforts in al-Azhar; the second was to
push for populist reforms that would distance al-Azhar from the instru-
ments of the state and bring its scholars closer to their constituency. In
the battle for the hearts, minds, and souls of ordinary Egyptians, scholars
such as Kishk, Sayyid Sabiq, and Muhammad Mitwalli al-Sha‘rawi hoped
that their classical training in the Islamic sciences and popular modes of
communication to a wider audience would see them surpass the popular-
ity of Qutb’s cadre of youth followers, the “pubescent thinkers” and their
shallow education, limited to “three pages of Ibn Taymiyya.”7
In addition to mosques teeming with congregants, these preachers
relied on a new technological advancement to spread their message, the
growing use of the cassette tape. Recordings of Kishk’s sermons were
as pervasive as they were fiery, and Egyptians were affected by his mes-
sage in far greater numbers than ever before.8 By the mid-1970s, he had
also emerged as a leading critic of the Sadat regime, further signaling
the break between the religious establishment and the state. In response,
the state attempted to promote Sha‘rawi as a more acceptable alternative,
since his message was limited to issues of beliefs and ritual practice.
Further east, ‘Abd al-‘Aziz ibn Baaz was promoted to president of the
Islamic University of Medina in 1970. The future grand mufti of Saudi
Arabia took a great interest in the up-and-coming generation of Mus-
lims. Boxes of Saudi religious texts appeared in Egyptian universities
with greater regularity in the last years of the decade and were distrib-
uted among students for free. Moreover, Egyptians who had migrated to
the Gulf for work in the 1950s and 1960s returned to their country in
the 1970s having been influenced by the religious climate of their host
nations. Many student leaders who later joined the Muslim Brotherhood
readily admit that they were strongly affected by the intellectual current
characterized by conservative Salafi scholarship that permeated Egypt
during this period.9
As the domestic religious activists continued to be absent from the
scene, another external influence that appeared at around the same time
was the missionary movement represented by the Jama‘at al-Tabligh.
Based in the Indian subcontinent, this revivalist group spread through
much of the Muslim world seeking to bring non-practicing believers back
into the fold of Islam. Stressing individual piety and teaching orthodox
ritual practice, the Tabligh leaders were known for their unyielding com-
mitment to their mission and their aggressive outreach. The movement
did not gain the same footing in Egypt as it did in other Muslim coun-
tries, but its followers were highly visible contributors to the landscape of
religious activism. Ibrahim ‘Ezzat, a popular Islamic preacher associated
with the Tabligh, ensured that even those who did not join the organiza-
tion were keenly aware of its presence and mission, especially among the
youth. Also led by Sheikh Farid al-‘Iraqi, a former Muslim Brotherhood
member, the Tabligh became a safe alternative for Muslim Brothers who
wished to continue their activism but without the risk of state repression.10
In the realm of popular religion, figures emerged who capitalized on
the growing pervasiveness of Islamic thought in mainstream culture.
Though they often did not pertain to a particular ideological current, or
perhaps because of it, these individuals were successful in amassing a
large following and became celebrities in their own right. Mustafa Mah-
moud serves as an illustrative example. Trained as a doctor and closely
allied with leftist politics in his youth, Mahmoud underwent a personal
journey of spiritual renewal in the early 1960s, eventually coming to dis-
avow Marxism in a number of written works. Moreover, he quit his medi-
cal practice to devote his life to writing and speaking on matters of Islam,
spirituality, and philosophy, along with developing a number of charitable
institutions.
In addition to his dozens of books, Mahmoud gained his fame through
the popular television program Faith and Science, in which he sought
to demonstrate the divine presence through nature and scientific dis-
covery. Contrasting his earlier alienation by Nasser, coupled with law-
suits against his teachings by the religious establishment of al-Azhar,
Mahmoud became a proponent of Sadat’s religious policies. In turn, he

was offered a ministerial position, which he declined in order to focus
on his many projects. His charitable association provided free medical
care to poor Egyptians and built a mosque that was named after him in
the Mohandesin neighborhood of Cairo. Through his writings, television
programs, and social services, Mahmoud offered Egyptians an accessible
and positive spiritual path, balancing against the more austere and rigid
trends in the broader field of Islamic thought.
Similarly, Sufi orders gained prominence during the 1970s. Though it
was nowhere near the role they played in the early modern period more
than a century earlier, tariqas such as the Burhaniyya Disuqiyya Shad-
hiliyya found new life in Sadat’s Egypt. Under the visionary leadership
of the Sudanese Sheikh Muhammad ‘Uthman ‘Abduh al-Burhani, the
thirteenth-century order was renewed throughout the Middle East in the
mid-twentieth century, amassing a following of three million people in
Egypt alone, during the 1970s.11 The re-emergence of Sufi tariqas such as
the Burhaniyya represented a spiritual revival that succeeded the Nasser
era and its relegation of faith to the realm of private affairs. Just as the
Islamic resurgence led by political and militant groups is often explained
as the product of countervailing forces in Nasser’s Egypt, so, too, must the
rise of Sufi orders seeking spiritual revival be viewed in that light.
The trend that would have the most direct impact on political events
in the 1970s, especially the ways in which the decade has been portrayed
since, was the jihadist current. The development of militancy within the
Islamic movement was the result of a number of factors: the legacy of
religiously inspired resistance in the earlier period of the Islamic move-
ment; the political, cultural, and socioeconomic changes that came with
the revolution; the evolution of religious thought; and the breakdown of
leadership hierarchy within the Islamic movement. This current had con-
siderable impact within the Islamic movement, though it was not as mo-
mentous or dominant as some commentators have suggested.
The development of jihadist discourse was in part an unintended
consequence of Nasser’s policy toward the Islamic movement in the late
1960s. Not only did his repressive measures in the concentration camps
result in the radicalization of a segment of young prisoners, as Kepel and
Ibrahim have demonstrated, but the clamping down on the public debate
of Qutb’s ideas also had the negative byproduct of relegating the discus-
sion to the fringes of Egyptian society. In the aftermath of Qutb’s execu-
tion, the Nasser regime burned his books, ordered writers not to mention
him by name, and even removed references to his writings in later edi-
tions of works by prominent authors.12
Without the necessary space to combat the spread of militant views,
the Muslim Brotherhood found itself on the defensive. In the aftermath of
the events of 1965, Hudaybi demanded that young followers clarify their
interpretation of the takfir concept. In response, he issued seven prison
letters with the goal of reorienting the youth cadres back toward the main-
stream Muslim Brotherhood school of thought.13 These modest efforts
appeared to have had little effect, however. By 1967, on the eve of the
June War, the Islamic activist prisoners were divided into three ideologi-
cal camps, whose views on the impending struggle against Israel varied
widely. The self-proclaimed Qutbists viewed the Egyptian regime as il-
legitimate and refused to support Nasser, even as the threat of a foreign
enemy loomed large. Hudaybi’s camp, meanwhile, believed in uniting all
Egyptians, regardless of political allegiances, in the face of an external
threat. Even those critical of Hudaybi’s leadership, and referring to them-
selves as supporters of Banna’s original mission, agreed that supporting
the state’s war efforts took precedence over internal political differences.14
The prevalent historiography has shown that Nasser’s defeat at the
hands of Israel emboldened the Qutbists, who continued to develop their
ideology, adopting the concept of hijra, in addition to takfir. Their belief
in separation from the larger community for the sake of spiritual purity
led to their segregation from fellow prisoners in Liman al-Turra and Abu
Za‘bal camps, years before they would continue the practice outside the
prison walls.15 In fact, though they had yet to take a concrete position on
the use of violence to accomplish their goals, the major ideological differ-
ences they had with the mainstream Islamic movement ensured that not
only would these groups engage in a heated war of words, but that they
would occasionally resort to force to defend their views. Prison gang fights
were not uncommon, and served as a warning sign for the patterns of
violence that marked many of the important events of the decade.
Because these budding fringe groups could not openly preach their
calls of excommunication of fellow Muslims and publicly assert their
belief that society was in a state of jahiliyya, they relied heavily on the
establishment of a strong underground network. They eschewed the tra-
ditional Muslim Brotherhood model of a popular grassroots organiza-
tion that operated from a prominent position in society, instead forming
secret groups whose sole purpose was to evade the state security forces
while pursuing their strategic goals, often militant in nature. The Islamic
Liberation Organization, known popularly as al-Fanniyya al-‘Askariyya

because it launched its coup attempt from the Technical Military Acad-
emy, was the first of these groups to emerge on the scene. Led by a Pales-
tinian named Salih Sirriya, this organization believed in the Islamization
of society from above, with its chief goal to displace the nation’s ruler
and seize political power. Sirriya recruited dozens of Egyptians, mostly
young military academy students and, in April 1974, set out to stage a
coup from behind the walls of the Technical Military Academy. Following
a violent confrontation with the Egyptian military, the plan quickly fell
apart. After a swift trial, Sirriya was executed and most of his supporters
were imprisoned.
Similarly, a group that called itself Gama‘at al-Muslimin, or the Soci-
ety of Muslims, was at the center of events in mid-1977, culminating in
the assassination of Azhari Sheikh and former Awqaf Minister Husayn
ad-Dhahabi. A subsequent police raid led to the apprehension of the
group’s leader, Shukri Mustafa, and his cadre of followers. Known in the
Egyptian press as al-Takfir wal-Higra (Excommunication and Flight), this
underground organization became notable for the erratic behavior of its
followers, who shunned mainstream society as corrupt and relocated to
communal homes, whether in out-of-the-way suburban furnished flats
or the caves of the upper Egyptian countryside. Among other things, the
group believed it was not permissible to hold government jobs or pray in
public mosques. Al-Takfir wal-Higra more fully realized the reformulated
theory of jahiliyya than any prior group.
Its gestation occurred in Nasser’s prisons a decade earlier. Mustafa,
having been recruited into the latest attempt at the reorganization of the
Muslim Brotherhood, was imprisoned along with Qutb’s other followers
in 1965. Holding tightly to his takfiri views, Mustafa found himself alone
after Hudaybi’s followers succeeded in dissuading the emerging Qutbist
fringe, including one of its leaders, Sheikh ‘Ali ‘Abduh Isma‘il, from fol-
lowing a path of isolation and militancy. Starting from a position of weak-
ness, Mustafa recruited several close friends to begin the effort anew,
with an eye toward establishing a separate organization upon their release
from prison, which occurred in mid-1971.16
While al-Takfir wal-Higra represented the most forceful and abrupt
break from the Muslim Brotherhood’s traditional school of thought, it
was by no means the only expression of the growing ideological divisions
within the Islamic movement. By the late 1970s, the Muslim Brotherhood
was successfully rejuvenated, due in large part to its effective co-optation
of the student movement. In some corners of the youth activist com-

munity, however, especially that based in upper Egypt’s universities,
the Muslim Brotherhood was met with staunch resistance by the local
campus chapters of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya. The dispute was as much
ideological—with the minority advocating a militant outlook—as it was
about appearances. Competing factions fought over the use of the name
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, with the only thing distinguishing them from one
another being the logo: one group adopted the classic Muslim Brother-
hood logo, featuring two swords crossed over the Qur’an, while the oppos-
ing side’s logo featured only one sword raised in the air. Eventually, as the
Muslim Brotherhood’s sympathizers formally merged with it, the latter
group monopolized the name al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, by the early 1980s
becoming an independent organization unaffiliated with the universities.
At its prime, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya proved to be the most formidable op-
ponent to the Muslim Brotherhood from within the Islamic movement,
and was responsible for a number of violent incidents across Egypt.
In addition to the jihadist organizations that grabbed the most head-
lines, several smaller underground groups espousing similar views sprang
up in the mid-1970s. Groups such as Tahrir Islami, Jund Allah, and Jama‘at
al-Amr bi-l-Ma‘ruf wa-l-Nahy ‘an al-Munkar became a thorn in the side of
the Sadat regime at a time when it was attempting to develop its own Is-
lamic credentials. Meanwhile, by October 1981, Jama‘at al-Jihad went from
being an obscure militant organization with fewer followers than any other
group, to gaining international notoriety for its role in the assassination of
the Egyptian president.
Taken together, the various intellectual currents within the Islamic
movement presented a formidable challenge, as well as an opportunity for
the Muslim Brotherhood. As it faced little external competition through-
out its early history, the organization could not refer to the Banna years for
guidance on how to assert itself as the veritable head of the Islamic move-
ment. Instead, its leaders emerged from prison to discover a dynamic and
multifarious scene of Islamic intellectualism and activism. Though many
of these figures would express genuine delight at finding Islamic iden-
tity so firmly established across the country, they faced an uphill strug-
gle to impress upon the up-and-coming generation the need to restore
the Muslim Brotherhood to its rightful place as the leader of the Islamic
movement. This process entailed responding to all of the prevalent ide-
ologies, from conservative Salafism to popular Sufism and especially the
dangers posed by groups promoting jihad against the state. Adding to the
complexity of the Muslim Brotherhood’s enormous task was the appear-

ance of the state as a puissant actor within the realm of Islamic politics.
The Believer President

In the process of reorienting his regime away from the failed policies
of Nasser and toward a new vision for Egypt, Sadat attempted to infuse
his government with an Islamic persona. All indicators point to the fact
that Sadat perceived this to be a crucial element in his mission to shift
the country away from a socialist system in the Soviet camp to a liberal
economic system allied with the West. Mining Islam’s rich legacy as a
defining facet of Egyptian culture, the new regime utilized religion as a
legitimating force for its policy realignment.
This transformation began with Sadat himself. Taking on the title
of the “believer president,” he embodied the characteristics of piety and
devotion in his daily life. In sharp contrast to his predecessor, who had
relied exclusively on secular nationalist rhetoric, Sadat frequently in-
toned Islamic expressions and Qur’anic verses in the course of his public
speeches. Moreover, he restored his given name of Muhammad and used
it exclusively in official settings. The state media was enlisted to trans-
mit this persona to the Egyptian public. Scenes of Sadat listening intently
to the Friday sermon and praying in many of Egypt’s mosques became
commonplace on television screens across the country. Close associates
of Sadat had no reason to doubt the genuine nature of his spiritual awak-
ening, but the political utility of a state-sanctioned Islamic platform to
combat leftist members of the old guard could not be denied.
Soon thereafter, Sadat’s policies began to reflect this increased religi-
osity. A new constitution passed in September 1971 established the Shari‘a
as a source of legislation, while later that month, Sadat announced that his
state was to be built on the principles of “science and faith.”17 Continuing
to rely on this slogan several years later, Sadat expounded upon his vision
for the interplay between the two, careful to distinguish the official vision
of faith from those of competing forces in society:
The faith we defend and abide to is a faith devoid of hatred and

fanaticism which encourages work, research, and knowledge. . . .
It is also the faith expounded by Islam and which fixed the human
spiritual values and established the Islamic state on the basis of
political and social legislations based on justice, amity and equity.18
Sadat then proceeded to illustrate how together with faith, science played
a vital role in pursuing national goals and meeting development targets:
Faced with an increasing population and the increasing demands

of modern life upon natural resources, we have no alternative but
to push towards the desert, reclaim its land, to look for its riches
and to encourage settlement therein, so that our society might be
secure, prosperous, generous with its resources and invincible by
its people. . . . Science is our ideal mean to achieve these targets and
Faith is the decisive weapon to face the challenges of the march.19
This outlook was pursued through a number of new initiatives to place

Islam at the center of public life in Egypt. In Cairo, “the city of a thou-
sand minarets,” Sadat ordered the construction of one thousand new
mosques, in addition to the forty thousand already in place.20 By 1973,
he had returned to the Ministry of Awqaf the lands confiscated by Nasser
and invested the ministry with greater autonomy in regulating Islamic
endowments. Institutions such as al-Azhar and recognized Sufi orders
were permitted to operate with greater freedom than at any point since
the revolution. Religious programming on television increased substan-
tially, and the call to prayer interrupted even live presidential speeches, an
unthinkable act under the prior regime. Sadat succeeded in creating the
impression that Egypt had become one nation under God, deriving his
legitimacy from his image as a righteous leader serving the interests of
his people as determined by Islam.
There is perhaps no better scenario to illustrate the sharp contrast be-
tween Nasser and Sadat than the October War of 1973:
Whereas Nasser had employed the secular motto “Earth, Sea, and
Sky” in the 1967 war, Sadat used “Allahu Akbar!” the opening
words of the call to prayer and the traditional Islamic battle cry.
Allahu Akbar! was on the lips of Egyptian troops as they stormed
across the Suez Canal. . . . The war itself was in every sense por-
trayed as a jihad; religious language and symbolism were freely em-
ployed. As a result, Egypt’s success in penetrating Israeli positions
was seen as an Islamic victory. Sadat emerged as a Muslim hero.21
The war itself occurred during the holy month of Ramadan and in his secret
preparations, Sadat gave it the code name Operation Badr, in reference to
the Prophet Muhammad’s famous inaugural victory over the Meccan army.
In the aftermath of the war, Sadat appeared to have reached the height of
his popularity, successfully combining his strong Islamic credentials with
his resolute command of the Egyptian forces in its most successful cam-
paign against Israel to date. In an ironic twist, the reversal of fortunes
under Sadat’s divinely inspired war effort served to affirm the common
Islamist critique that Egypt’s continued defeat at the hands of the Israeli
military was due to the state’s failure to uphold Islamic values.
Indeed, even as Sadat emerged triumphant from his early challenges,
be it the Corrective Revolution of May 1971 or the October War in 1973,
not all segments of Egyptian society were convinced of the country’s new
direction. The student protests of 1972 reflected the backlash from a gen-
eration raised in Nasserist rhetoric that saw their world rapidly collapsing
around them. For the staunchly secularist leftists, a return to religion was
perceived as a cheap tactic to shore up a new political base upon which
Sadat could forge his revised policy agenda, and this was sure to fail be-
cause of Islam’s incompatibility with the challenges of the modern world.
Furthermore, in the hands of “rightist” forces, Islam could only amount
to capitalist economic policies and exploitation of the nation’s workers and
resources.
On the other side, Islamic activists responded to the state’s newfound
religiosity with a combination of bemusement and skepticism. Whereas
Tilmisani was grateful for Sadat’s apparent change of heart regarding
the Muslim Brotherhood, other groups were weary of the state’s legacy
of repression of independent political voices, especially those inspired by
Islam. The fact that the violent confrontation at the Technical Military
Academy occurred only a few months after the October War, at a time
when Sadat was seemingly at the height of his popularity, was a telling
sign that not all Egyptians believed in the “believer president.”22
Stemming the Opposition

Early on, Sadat’s Islamization policy appeared to be aimed at shifting
the country’s political capital away from traditional “centers of power”—
institutions and individuals with strong leftist leanings—to an as yet
undefined alternative that relied on Islamic principles for its legitimacy.
Therefore, in Sadat’s estimation, the formidable opposition from the
prior regime was the only factor worth consideration, at least in the ini-
tial stages of this policy. Long repressed and much defeated, the Islamic
movement’s response did not enter into the state’s calculations, and there-
fore no reasoned strategy was ever devised to address it. Instead, Sadat’s
policy toward Islamic forces in society was an incoherent patchwork that
faced much opposition and displayed frequent contradictions.
On the one hand, Sadat offered some gestures to the Islamic movement
through the appointments of Kamal Abul Magd and ‘Abd al-‘Aziz Kamel,
the latter a former Muslim Brotherhood member, to strategic posts within
his government. A respected scholar who had credibility in the eyes of many
Muslim Brotherhood leaders, ‘Abd al-Halim Mahmoud was appointed
Sheikh of al-Azhar and was given considerable independence to resurrect
the institution’s place in society following its marginalization by Nasser.
In addition to these public moves to appoint figures with perceived
Islamist sympathies to influential positions in the new government, the
regime also utilized covert measures to spread its influence within an
Islamic movement undergoing a pronounced resurrection. The previous
chapter detailed the ways in which Shabab al-Islam, one of the earliest
public expressions of Islamic activism in the Sadat era, was subjected
to co-optation efforts by government officials. The group was frequently
forced to push back against external elements utilizing its name, mission,
and momentum in pursuit of their own agendas. Muhammad ‘Uthman
Isma‘il and ‘Uthman Ahmed ‘Uthman, two figures close to Sadat who
promoted the policy of creating an Islamic youth movement to combat
leftist activists, utilized their considerable influence with the president
and access to the sizable resources of the Arab Socialist Union to sponsor
student groups to advance the regime’s interests. Just as Nasser had cre-
ated the Socialist Vanguard for this purpose, Sadat had lent his support to
the unaffiliated Shabab al-Islam chapters and later the Gama‘at Islamiyya.
Through these wide-ranging policies targeting the rise of an Islamic
alternative, the Egyptian state itself became an important actor in the
emergence of a reconstituted Islamic movement. Even in later years, as
the danger of fringe elements within the movement made itself apparent,
the security apparatus took special care to monitor these groups closely,
infiltrating them when it felt it necessary. The ideological and organiza-
tional diversity of the Islamic movement ultimately served to bolster the
regime’s position in confronting the growth of a new threat to its political
agenda. As Kepel contended, “It was this climate of fragmentation of the
movement into rival sects and of incidents between them that gave the
police the opportunity to intervene in the internal affairs of the Islamicist
movement.”23
By late 1972 then, at the same time that Shabab al-Islam held its initial
launch event, Sadat had formally severed his special relationship with the
Soviet Union, leaving Egypt to pursue a course independent of commu-
nist influence for the first time in nearly two decades. Meanwhile, the
Muslim Brotherhood’s leadership emerged from prison to discover a vi-
brant field of religious activism made up of veteran former members, an
independent student movement, and an unproven president seeking to
bolster his Islamic credentials in society. Echoing the scene on the eve of
the revolution in 1952, both the Muslim Brotherhood and the new regime
quickly came to realize that they were in need of one another, even if their
political visions did not often converge. The real question would be what
lessons each side had learned from previous encounters that had ended in
violent confrontation and years of repression.
Old Wounds and New Beginnings

Only four months into his presidency, Sadat launched the first wave of
prison releases that freed several high-ranking Muslim Brotherhood lead-
ers, including Hudaybi and Tilmisani, in February 1971.24 By August,
Sadat’s new interior minister, Mamduh Salem, announced the release of
an additional 134 political prisoners and proclaimed an end to the “politi-
cal isolation” of 13,000 Egyptians by the following year.25 Though it fell
short of full legalization of the group for the first time since its ban in the
early years of the revolution, the policy revision that coincided with Sadat’s
accession to power ushered in a new era for the Muslim Brotherhood in
Egypt. Three main issues occupied the leadership during this early phase
of the group’s reappearance.
The first and most immediate area of concern involved the adaptation
of Muslim Brotherhood leaders and members to the changes in Egyp-
tian society. For many of them, the prison experience had come to define
the majority of their adult lives. The psychological effects of years of tor-
ture and isolation took their toll on the rank-and-file members to such an
extent that the thought of resuming political activism could not be further
from their minds. Instead, they faced the complex task of reconnecting
with their families and resuming normal life within their communities.
Second, any attempt to reconstitute the organization had to take into
account Sadat’s policy toward Islam in general and the Muslim Brother-
hood in particular, taking great care to avoid another wave of repression.
The regime’s new posture toward the Muslim Brotherhood was reflected
in Sadat’s efforts to reach out to exiled members and to form an under-

standing on the future of their activities within the limited political space
created for them by the state.
For those who wanted to reignite the mission of the Muslim Brother-
hood, especially among the senior leadership, a third challenge emerged
in the form of internal conflicts regarding the future course of the orga-
nization. Upon taking stock of the current political situation in the early
1970s, several competing viewpoints developed, each representing a dif-
ferent outlook for the future of the Muslim Brotherhood. Before confront-
ing the obstacles from the society at large or the challenges posed by the
regime’s stance toward Islamic activism, these leaders had to face an inter-
nal struggle to determine the course of the Muslim Brotherhood and its
revised mission. Ultimately, this was a period marked by widespread con-
fusion and a high degree of uncertainty, even by the standards of a social
movement that was historically subject to the whims of the ruling power.
Picking Up the Pieces

In his memoir recounting the devastating conditions in Egypt’s prison
camps, Ahmed Ra’if described in vivid detail the scenes of physical and
psychological abuse. In one instance, he and four other Muslim Broth-
erhood members were tortured for three continuous days, resulting in
the death of two of them, while the others sustained permanent impair-
ments.26 The punishment meted out by Nasser’s security forces built
such a wall around each of the prisoners that Ra’if concluded by wonder-
ing: “[W]hat would an individual subjected to all of this do once they leave
this place, if they ever could leave this place?”27
Indeed, the transition from an outlawed movement subjected to
unspeakable atrocities to individual activists seeking a return to main-
stream society was the foremost obstacle to the Muslim Brotherhood’s
re-emergence. Describing this process, ‘Esam al-‘Erian, a young student
activist later commented that the group’s elders “faced enormous difficul-
ties in preparing for the reentry into society. This was the most difficult
challenge.”28 This process was laden with sociocultural, psychological,
and economic implications.
The cultural landscape of Egypt in the early 1970s was markedly differ-
ent from that of the mid-1950s. The decline of the old landed elite in favor
of a developing middle class, more educated and technically able than
any previous generation, meant that a small segment of the population
isolated from these developments had to determine how it fit into the new
social categories. Moreover, they had to come to terms with the fact that,
while they had seen the ugly side of the Nasser regime over the course
of two decades, other Egyptians had only recently come to understand
the failures of the prior government. Regardless of how openly critical
Sadat and other state officials were of Nasser, the former Muslim Brother-
hood prisoners were too far ahead in their denunciation for most people to
catch up, leading to continued feelings of alienation among them.
The prison camp experience took an enormous psychological toll on
the Muslim Brotherhood members. Many of them had to endure years of
isolation and hard labor. Reports of torture were common and became im-
mortalized in the Muslim Brotherhood’s historiography throughout the
memoirs and publications that appeared in the years that followed.29 Even
outside observers noted the severity of Nasser’s treatment of his political
foes, citing the constant fear of outright extermination, actual massacres
within the prison walls, and show trials followed by public executions, as
in the case of Organization 1965.30
In his methodological note regarding research conducted on prisoners
in the late 1970s, Saad Eddin Ibrahim noted that the activists he approached
expressed hostility and suspicion toward independent researchers. Their
initial refusal to cooperate stemmed from a determination by some to
avoid contact with members of a “corrupt society,” while the majority
simply believed that the researchers were government agents.31 The cul-
ture of fear and paranoia was a lingering effect of the Nasser era that ex-
tended throughout the Sadat period. It perpetuated a siege mentality that
existed within the community of Islamic activists long after their release
from the prison camps, and helps to explain why the Muslim Brotherhood
experienced such a dearth of numbers compared with its membership of
over a million two decades earlier.
As a younger activist recalled, the prison environment continued for
some time after the release of the Muslim Brotherhood leaders.32 Feel-
ings of isolation continued, as some members found it difficult to recon-
nect with family members and struggled to find employment. Others
found support from preexisting Muslim Brotherhood networks, as those
from the organization who had found economic security working in the
Gulf countries provided employment opportunities to their newly freed
comrades, often after having assisted their families in previous years.
Most former prisoners dreamed of starting a new life in the Gulf, while
some even learned German in prison for a new life in Europe, which
they claimed was even more tolerant of Islam than most Arab states.33 For
those who were determined to remain in Egypt or who had no alterna-
tive, their struggle for reintegration required them to track down old com-
munity ties or establish new ones. These early encounters with Egyptian
society in the pursuit of employment required the former prisoners to
adapt to the changes around them and to temper their expectations for
reintegration.
However, as another student leader recalled, many Muslim Brother-
hood leaders were stunned to discover a new religiosity in society that had
not been a product of the Muslim Brotherhood da‘wa.34 While this was
a welcome surprise to many Islamic movement elders, it ran contrary to
their belief, developed over the course of the prison experience, that soci-
ety had abandoned all claims to its Islamic identity through its embrace of
Nasserism, complete with its hostility to the Muslim Brotherhood. Within
an emergent cultural context that was both alien and strangely familiar,
discussions among the movement’s leaders centered on what role, if any,
the Muslim Brotherhood stood to play in a society eager to fashion a new
national project out of the ashes of the failed policies of old.
Sadat Extends a Hand

While the former prisoners were still adjusting to a life of new challenges,
Sadat marched on with his policy of de-Nasserization and its concomitant
attempts to infuse his regime with Islamic values. Some of his early ap-
pointments, including Abul Magd and Isma‘il, were instrumental in this
process. Not only were they the public face of this campaign, but they also
provided the necessary links between the state and prominent Islamic
figures in society. Others have pointed to additional influences, such as
Sadat’s first vice president, Hussein al-Shafi‘i, and his budding relation-
ship with Saudi Arabia’s leaders, who had looked favorably on the Muslim
Brotherhood in their regional rivalry against Nasser.35
In the course of these contacts, Sadat shifted his attention to the
Muslim Brotherhood figures abroad. Given that those living in exile fared
far better than their comrades who had endured Nasser’s prison camps,
this seemed like a more prudent step on the part of the Egyptian pres-
ident. It would be far easier to turn the page on that dark moment in
history with individuals who were more likely to reciprocate the concilia-
tory gestures. Moreover, the social standing of the local Muslim Broth-
erhood leaders as recently released prisoners complicated the ability of
the regime’s top authority from granting them any formal recognition.
In February 1971, an exiled Muslim Brotherhood member living in Qatar
was allowed to make a trip to Egypt. During the course of his short visit,
Kamal Nagi delivered a letter to Sadat on behalf of other exiled figures
that signaled their desire for a fresh start. Their grievances were with
Nasser’s enforcers, they argued, not with Sadat.36
Repaying this visit with a gesture of his own, Sadat enlisted the help
of one of his confidants, a doctor affiliated with the Islamic movement. In
his memoirs, Mahmoud Gami‘ recalled that Sadat pondered asking the
Muslim Brotherhood to join in his efforts against the Nasserist remnants
in Egypt, but preferred to call upon those who had fled, since they would
be more likely to cooperate with him. To that end, Gami‘ traveled to a
number of Gulf countries on behalf of Sadat, meeting with the likes of
Yousuf al-Qaradawi, Ahmed al-‘Asal, ‘Abd al-Ra’uf Mashhur, and Salim
Nigm.37
With these meetings, Sadat meant to accomplish a number of things.
First, he hoped to enlist the help of individuals who had long been re-
sponsible for making considerable financial and moral contributions to
Egyptian society. Rather than as a force of subversion, their efforts would
now be treated as an asset to the regime. Second, Sadat also believed that
the exiled Muslim Brotherhood figures were instrumental to enhancing
Egypt’s relationship with the host countries. As he attempted to rectify
the mistakes of the past, Sadat believed in cultivating strong ties with the
Gulf states, and he was determined to take advantage of the community of
Egyptian exiles who had already made significant inroads with the rulers
of several Arab countries.
Third, by circumventing the recognized leadership of the Muslim
Brotherhood in favor of fringe figures of questionable influence in the
command structure, Sadat was also employing a strategy of divide-and-
conquer. Sadat made no secret of his distaste for Hudaybi, whom he once
described as “a singularly dull-witted and colorless ex-magistrate.”38 For
his part, Hudaybi and others within his inner circle had refused to pledge
their allegiance to Sadat following their release from prison, further com-
plicating the early encounters between the Muslim Brotherhood and the
state.39 Internally, the group’s leaders were faced with a new challenge,
that of coordinating between factions that were separated by both geogra-
phy and historical experience. As al-‘Erian later acknowledged, reorgani-
zation efforts in Egypt were actually hindered by the challenge of dealing
with al-Aqtar al-‘Arabiyya, or those exiled figures who would command
some authority by virtue of their reputable social standing and access to

the Egyptian regime. 40
Charting a New Course

While the majority of Muslim Brotherhood members spent the initial
months following their release from prison focusing on personal matters,
the surviving core group within the leadership contemplated the future
of their organization. The years of repression had decimated the orga-
nizational structure of the Muslim Brotherhood, which had been care-
fully developed by Hasan al-Banna and inherited by his successor, Hasan
al-Hudaybi. The Consultative Assembly, which elected the leadership, was
no more. The Field Apparatus, which oversaw individual localized cells
known as “families,” had ceased to exist, as the families themselves had
disbanded. Even the Guidance Bureau was a shell of its former self, with
many of its original members having died or fled in the intervening years,
leaving a handful of figures, such as ‘Umar al-Tilmisani, Ahmed al-Malt,
and Farid ‘Abd al-Khaliq, as the only contemporaries of Banna, along with
Hudaybi.
It had been nearly two decades since the last round of internal elec-
tions, and with no membership or institutional structure to speak of, the
Muslim Brotherhood could not be reconstituted through a simple resump-
tion of its internal mechanisms for the selection of leadership and secre-
tarial positions. In fact, a decision to resume activism under the banner
of the Muslim Brotherhood had yet to even be taken. What followed was a
spirited internal debate among leading members of the Muslim Brother-
hood, continuing the discussions that marked the prison years, but with
the added insight that came with assessing the political and social situa-
tion that was developing in a post-Nasser Egypt.
Several factors helped drive the discussion on the future of the Muslim
Brotherhood’s mission. For one, the Islamic movement had appeared to
outgrow the need for a centralized organizational structure such as that
offered by the Muslim Brotherhood in its early years. Reputable think-
ers from the Muslim Brotherhood’s school of thought, such as Muham-
mad al-Ghazali, Yousuf al-Qaradawi, and Sayyid Sabiq, had enjoyed a
high degree of success despite the lack of organizational backing for their
activities.
Moreover, a new generation of youth activists had clung to Islam as
their primary frame of reference and motivational force, without having
come up in the traditional Muslim Brotherhood da‘wa. Some wondered if

it could be that the future of Islamic activism was in safe hands due to the
unexpected rise of this vibrant movement. On the other hand, the ideo-
logical divisions that marked the prison years had already begun to per-
meate among ordinary Egyptians. Though the existence of underground
militant groups such as that which stormed the Technical Military Acad-
emy in 1974 was not known to the recently released Muslim Brotherhood
leaders, they were certainly aware of the subculture that would cultivate
such expressions among zealous youth and disaffected veteran activists.
Combating militant views would require strong organizational backing
and a reassertion of the Muslim Brotherhood’s core message.
In addition to the existing social conditions, consideration also had to
be given to the political situation. The Muslim Brotherhood had become
an outlawed organization by official decree in 1954. Though Sadat had
seemingly extended an olive branch to its leaders, he had not sanctioned
the organization’s return. The ban would remain in effect throughout the
Sadat presidency. Any decision on the part of the group to resume its ac-
tivism under the Muslim Brotherhood banner was sure to set off a new
round of confrontation with the state. The dreadful memories of Nasser’s
prisons were ever present, casting a dark shadow over these deliberations.
Additionally, Sadat’s expressions of personal piety, along with the ap-
pointment of reputable Islamic leaders to key posts in the new regime,
raised the question of whether the Islamic movement should abandon
its traditional mode of operating through a nonstate organization. In-
stead, it would join in national efforts to instill society with Islamic values
and govern on the basis of the Shari‘a. After all, if Banna founded the
Muslim Brotherhood in part as a response to the fall of the caliphate, then
Sadat’s apparent willingness to revive the Islamic basis of the state was
cause enough to alter the nature of the group’s mission, if not abandon it
altogether.
These and other questions weighed heavily on the minds of the lead-
ing Muslim Brotherhood figures. By 1973, three camps emerged, reflect-
ing the multiple viewpoints expressed in the course of these discussions. 41
The first camp believed that the Muslim Brotherhood’s moment in the sun
had passed. They argued that the body of the organization should not be
revived, but rather its spirit should live on in the form of public advocacy
on the part of its veteran leaders. Acknowledging that this was “a com-
pletely new idea,” its main proponent, Mahmoud ‘Abd al-Halim, argued
that the Islamic movement should set aside its traditional proclivity for
working under a particular banner. He suggested instead that “its activ-

ism should take on a cultural and intellectual character.”42
A former close associate of Banna, ‘Abd al-Halim believed that there
was much in the Muslim Brotherhood’s past experiences that would dis-
suade its members from wanting to build the organization anew. Most
obviously, the years of repression at the hands of the Nasser regime, which
he witnessed firsthand in the torture chambers of Liman al-Turra prison,
were cause enough to force a recalculation on the part of the Muslim
Brotherhood. It would be tragic, ‘Abd al-Halim argued, if the lessons of
this painful experience were lost on old and young alike, only for it to
be repeated with a new regime and a revived Muslim Brotherhood. Ad-
ditionally, he was critical of the exclusivity and secrecy with which closed
organizations by their very nature operate. It is this type of partisanship
that would preclude the group from working closely with some of the peri-
od’s intellectual luminaries who may not have joined the Muslim Brother-
hood, or in the case of Sheikh al-Ghazali, were dismissed from its ranks
under specious circumstances many years earlier.
As an alternative, proponents of this view advocated for the continu-
ation of an open and fluid Islamic movement, one that would continue
to spread the message articulated by Banna, but that also would possess
the flexibility to adapt to its changing surroundings and incorporate the
positive contributions of leading thinkers and popular social forces. It
would focus its efforts on indoctrinating the youth, especially the rising
generation of student activists, without interfering in their organizational
structures or imposing on them membership in a new group. Instead,
the veteran leaders would channel their energies through public initia-
tives, such as the convening of lectures and dissemination of literature.
In essence, the traditionally rigid organizational structure of the Muslim
Brotherhood would transform into something akin to a publishing house
with its own speakers’ bureau.
Indeed, proponents of ‘Abd al-Halim’s vision, who included ‘Abbas al-
Sisi and ‘Abd al-Halim Khafaga, would pursue this strategy independently
of the outcome of the Muslim Brotherhood’s internal debate. Based in
Alexandria, al-Sisi founded Dar al-Sawtiyyat wal-Mar’iyyat, a media com-
pany that produced Islamic audiovisual materials for distribution across
Egypt. Following his emigration to Germany, Khafaga founded B avaria
Publications, an Islamic publishing house that served Muslim commu-
nities in Europe. ‘Abd al-Halim himself would take his vision to heart,
writing a three-volume history of the early Muslim Brotherhood—the
first such work of its kind by an insider—and committed himself to other

intellectual endeavors. 43
On the opposing side of this discussion was another group, led pri-
marily by Mustafa Mashhur, along with Ahmed Hassanain and Kamal
al-Sananiri, who argued for the return of the Muslim Brotherhood as
the preeminent Islamic activist organization, complete with a strong in-
ternal structure and the rigid hierarchy that distinguished the group’s
Secret Apparatus. As former members of the Secret Apparatus them-
selves, Mashhur, Hassanain, and al-Sananiri strongly believed in the im-
portance of a well-disciplined organization as the basis for spreading the
da‘wa. Rather than general social advocacy work, under this model the
Muslim Brotherhood’s main focus would be to recruit a strong member-
ship base and devote its energies to religious training of members with
the organization’s official curriculum, a process known as tarbiya. This
would ensure a disciplined and uniform organization capable of combat-
ing negative forces in society and, should the opportunity arise, it would
be well positioned to exert political influence as well.
This vision could only be realized, Mashhur argued, by reconstituting
the Secret Apparatus, an internal subunit within the Muslim Brother-
hood’s organizational structure that existed separately from the group’s
public face, thus avoiding the constraints placed upon it by the regime. The
lesson of the Nasser period, according to this view, was that a strong inter-
nal organization was absolutely critical as an anchor for the endurance of
Islamic activism. A mission that was purely outward and public could be
easily washed away by the recurring tide of state repression. Thus, it was
no surprise that, along with many of the surviving members of the origi-
nal Secret Apparatus, proponents of this position also included most of the
members of Organization 1965, the group that most recently witnessed
the regime’s obstruction of the Islamic movement to devastating effect.
In recounting the prison experience, Ahmed Ra’if described the reor-
ganization efforts by imprisoned Muslim Brotherhood members in the
late 1950s and early 1960s, which ultimately resulted in the 1965 crack-
down and the execution of Qutb and two of the accused conspirators. But
barely two years later, in the aftermath of the 1967 defeat, the prisons were
again buzzing with discussions of reorganization in the event that Nasser
released the political prisoners. Given the deepening divisions among the
Muslim Brotherhood members, it is quite likely that the proponents of
the Secret Apparatus had already launched preparations for the group’s
return, while leaving their opponents in the dark.
Another young activist recalled that Mashhur later discouraged stu-

dents from interacting with a number of senior Muslim Brotherhood
figures, including Farid ‘Abd al-Khaliq, Salah Shadi, and Salih Abu
Ruqayyiq. 44 In many instances, these divisions reflected ideological as
well as personal differences. Mashhur’s faction stressed the resolve they
demonstrated in prison, highlighting their suffering in comparison with
those who had either recanted their beliefs in the hopes of attenuating
the authorities, or those who had avoided the prison camps altogether,
like al-Ghazali and Salih al-‘Ashmawi. The publication of graphic prison
memoirs like Ra‘if’s were intended to reintroduce Muslim Brotherhood
veterans to society, while also distinguishing between those who had paid
the heaviest toll and sacrificed the most and those who wavered during
the ordeal, or mihna.
Also unlike the members of the other faction, Mashhur and his sup-
porters did not treat the recent surge in Islamic activism among Egyp-
tians with cautious optimism. Rather, they were highly critical of the
limited knowledge displayed by the student movement, and its penchant
for focusing on narrow issues and outward matters of ritual practice. 45
This concern for the wayward youth further underscored the need for
a centralized organization with a strong leadership that could instill its
members with discipline and command their obedience.
In spite of the seemingly polarizing attitudes on the part of the veteran
Muslim Brotherhood leaders, the anticipated impasse never materialized.
This was partly a consequence of the fact that both factions indepen-
dently pursued their own course, with ‘Abd al-Halim’s turn to publica-
tion and Mashhur’s efforts to reorganize the internal structure quietly.
The apparent lack of confrontation was also the product of the emergence
of a third faction, proposing to combine elements of the two visions for
the future of the Muslim Brotherhood. Coalescing around the figure of
‘Umar al-Tilmisani, the centrist position saw the merits in both outlooks
and attempted to incorporate them into a single project for the continu-
ation of the Muslim Brotherhood’s mission. Along with Tilmisani, who
had begun to take on a more active role in leadership as Hudaybi retreated
into the background, this group included Jaber Rizq, Muhammad Salim,
Husni ‘Abd al-Baqi, and later Farid ‘Abd al-Khaliq.
They discerned a real need for a public presence for the Muslim Broth-
erhood, especially in the midst of a vibrant Islamic movement that lacked
strong leadership. These figures took ‘Abd al-Halim’s proposal for an Is-
lamic press to heart, vowing to introduce Egyptian society to the legacy
of the Muslim Brotherhood and to lend its voice to the political and social
issues of the day. Several years later, al-Da‘wa magazine, and indeed, the
associated publishing company with its vast library of Muslim Brother-
hood literature, emerged from this commitment. Contrary to the beliefs
of the Mashhur faction, the accommodationists perceived the Muslim
Brotherhood’s prominent presence in society as an asset, not a liability.
The more deeply entrenched it was in social institutions, from schools
and mosques, to factories and hospitals, the more difficult it would be for
the regime to take action against it. The more visible it was in the hearts
and minds of Egyptians, the more impossible it would be for Sadat to
erase its presence.
Continuing to operate under the Muslim Brotherhood banner meant
that some level of organization was essential. Witnessing the burgeon-
ing field of Islamic activism, and perhaps even the state’s foray into the
religious student movement, the accommodationists tended to agree with
Mashhur’s supporters that a diffuse public da‘wa campaign alone was not
enough to sustain the Muslim Brotherhood’s mission. Tilmisani envi-
sioned the reconstitution of the Guidance Bureau and its affiliated branch
sections simply as a mechanism to organize the existing Muslim Brother-
hood members who wished to remain active in the group, but needed to
be part of a coordinated effort. There was to be no active recruitment of
new members, and more important, no establishment of any secret enti-
ties within the Muslim Brotherhood. The Secret Apparatus and its alleged
plots against the state, whether real or imagined, had been the justifica-
tion used by Nasser to dismantle and suppress the Muslim Brotherhood.
The reconstituted group could not afford to provide Sadat with the same
pretext upon which to act against it.
In this way, Tilmisani managed to combine elements of the conflict-
ing perspectives to form a cohesive vision for the future of the Muslim
Brotherhood. He envisioned a mission of public advocacy that focused its
efforts on society at large, but utilized its organizational mechanisms to
execute this mission. He reasoned that the organization’s name was an
asset that distinguished its followers from the competing Islamic trends,
but that the next generation of activists should be encouraged to work
within their existing institutions rather than being recruited to join the
Muslim Brotherhood. The tension between the spirit of the message and
the reality of the messengers was one that Tilmisani believed could be
eased through such compromises and an ability to adapt to new surround-
ings. He was supported in this effort by most of the remaining Muslim
Brotherhood members, and he even succeeded in bringing figures from

the opposing factions on board. Early on in the discussions, al-Sisi joined
Tilmisani’s middle position, and eventually even ‘Abd al-Halim reluc-
tantly agreed to join in the reconstitution efforts, taking on a position in
the new organization.
The Brothers Return

By early 1973, the decision to resume activism under the banner of the
Muslim Brotherhood had been made by most of its surviving leadership.
Due to the extraordinary circumstances surrounding its return, however,
the group was in no condition to adhere to the organizational protocol,
and this period became notable for signaling a true break from the past.
As the Guidance Bureau was reestablished, only a handful of its original
members had survived the prison years. In order to fill the open posi-
tions, the leadership relied on appointments rather than elections, which
it lacked the ability to hold. For the first time in the Muslim Brotherhood’s
history, the Guidance Bureau became populated with figures who were
not contemporaries of Hasan al-Banna and thus had not witnessed the
first two decades of activism under his leadership. Moreover, the entire
remaining membership comprised only about 100–200 individuals, a far
cry from the days of Banna, when the Muslim Brotherhood boasted hun-
dreds of thousands of members. 46
Within the organization, the reshuffling saw the rise of a new leader-
ship. Though in a position of seniority, ‘Abd al-Halim refused an appoint-
ment to the Guidance Bureau, instead agreeing to serve under one of his
former pupils, al-Sisi, who was placed in charge of the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s chapter in Alexandria. 47 Though he would have appreciated a
greater degree of authority within the organization, ‘Abd al-Halim re-
solved himself to documenting the group’s history so that its legacy would
be preserved. Elsewhere, Mashhur, Hassanain, and al-Sananiri exerted
greater influence within the organization than ever before, even showing
early signs that they intended to institute part of their proposed vision for
a clandestine unit.
Already in disarray following a tenuous organizational arrange-
ment, the Muslim Brotherhood faced a number of challenges during
the course of the year. Having largely taken a back seat during the stu-
dent protests in the first months of 1973, the leadership struggled with
its position vis-à-vis the broader Islamic movement, especially within the
universities. It recognized the need to tread carefully, especially in light

of Sadat’s decision to bypass the domestic leadership in favor of exiled
Muslim Brotherhood figures as the only recognized channel with whom
he communicated. Adding insult to injury, Hudaybi’s refusal to pledge
his unconditional allegiance to Sadat ensured that the reconstituted group
would remain under intense scrutiny by the regime.
When the October War broke out later that year, the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s leadership knew that it would be expected to take a stand. In
echoes of the heated prison debates that surrounded the 1967 war, the
Islamic movement featured both conservatives, who refused to lend their
support to the regime’s war effort, and conciliatory gestures on the part
of some activists who placed the national goal of liberation above domes-
tic political considerations. Owing largely to the fact that it had yet to be
sufficiently organized, the Muslim Brotherhood sidestepped this debate,
though some figures took individual positions on the issue, lauding the
gains made by Egyptian forces on the battlefield, but also criticizing the
political leadership for its decision to cease hostilities prematurely.
Less than a month later, the Muslim Brotherhood was dealt another
blow with the loss of its second general guide. Hasan al-Hudaybi died on
November 11, at the age of 82, sparking another crisis of leadership in an
organization that already was in a precarious position prior to the loss of
its figurehead. As with the ad hoc reconstitution of the Guidance Bureau,
the Muslim Brotherhood was not in any position to pursue its standard
operating procedures with regard to selecting a new general guide.
Moreover, given the organization’s nebulous legal standing, what figure
would willingly step forward and be declared its leader? As thousands of
supporters, including former members and public officials, gathered to
mourn Hudaybi’s death, the Guidance Bureau quietly met to determine
its course of action.
When no clear candidate or, for that matter, protocol for his selection,
emerged from this discussion, the members turned to Sheikh Marzouk,
a respected veteran of the Muslim Brotherhood who in the previous year
had served as Hudaybi’s stand-in at Bureau meetings when the general
guide was unable to attend. 48 The Bureau asked Marzouk to fill in as gen-
eral guide while they determined the future of the position, a process
that was expected to take some time, given the organizational deficiencies
faced by the Muslim Brotherhood. Marzouk initially refused, but after
prodding by the other members, he reluctantly agreed to take on the re-
sponsibilities of the general guide.
While it was a short-term solution, this posed a problem for the

Muslim Brotherhood. The Guidance Bureau refused to reveal the identity
of the new general guide publicly, keeping its decision to install Marzouk
a secret from its own members, as well as the society at large. Instead,
members were requested to pledge their allegiance, the traditional bay‘a
given to all new leaders, to the position of general guide generically, with-
out any knowledge of who had actually come to occupy the post. Accord-
ing to the recollection of ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh, a student activist
who later became one of the youngest members of the Guidance Bureau,
the move sent shockwaves through the rank-and-file members, some of
whom refused to give their bay‘a to a “Secret Murshid.” This was espe-
cially true among the community of exiled Muslim Brotherhood mem-
bers, whose distance from the events made them all the more suspicious.
But even within Egypt, figures like Mahdi ‘Akef, a future general guide
himself, reportedly spurned a delegation of Guidance Bureau members
who attempted to obtain his bay‘a to the general guide without disclosing
his identity. 49
The “Secret Murshid” period is an oft-forgotten episode in the modern
history of the Muslim Brotherhood. It signaled one of the lowest points in
the organization’s existence, and became emblematic of the disarray char-
acteristic of the group during its reconstitution phase. The idea that the
organization founded by the visionary Hasan al-Banna, which had relied
so heavily on his charismatic authority, would one day have a nameless
general guide was unconscionable. This moment represented its inter-
nal divisions and its external apprehensions. With no strong leadership
or unifying vision for the Muslim Brotherhood’s future, members of the
makeshift Guidance Bureau could not come to a concrete decision on the
way forward for their organization, necessitating a temporary solution
that all agreed was unworkable. Moreover, continuing concerns over the
state’s posture toward a reconstituted Muslim Brotherhood contributed to
the need for confidentiality during this early stage. As with earlier periods
in its history, the organization discerned a real need to protect its legacy
and to conceal whatever internal divisions and structural weaknesses it
possessed.
In that sense, the Muslim Brotherhood succeeded, even with the
“Secret Murshid” debacle. Few outsiders were privy to the internal situ-
ation in the Guidance Bureau. Just over a year later, Tilmisani emerged
as the agreed-upon choice for the position of general guide. As the most
senior remaining Muslim Brotherhood figure and the only member of the
last Guidance Bureau prior to its dissolution in 1954, he was an obvious

choice and received the support of the majority of the organization’s mem-
bers. The only reservations were those of the Mashhur faction, which held
philosophical disagreements with Tilmisani’s vision for the organization,
in spite of its declared support for the compromise position that emerged
from the internal debate.50 These tensions would become a recurring
theme during the remainder of the decade, as the accommodationist out-
look for the future of the organization was under constant pressure by
forces wishing to pursue their own vision. Nonetheless, with its legacy
largely intact, in that same period, the Muslim Brotherhood re-emerged
as the most prominent social movement organization in Egypt, resuming
its place at the head of the Islamic movement. This development, by no
means a certainty as Tilmisani assumed the reins of leadership from an
anonymous general guide in 1974, was due in large part to the infusion
of new lifeblood for the Muslim Brotherhood. Across the nation’s colleges
and universities, Islamic youth groups had been busy developing a new
spirit of religious activism unlike anything that had been seen in Egypt
since the revolution.
4
Islam on Campus
In February 1977, Anwar al-Sadat convened a meeting at his vacation

home in al-Qanatir, the site of several defining moments of his presidency.
In addition to his vice president, Hosni Mubarak, and several members
of his cabinet, Sadat also invited ordinary Egyptians representing various
segments of society: workers, professionals, and students. The town hall
meeting format was a favorite of Sadat’s, and one he tended to rely on
in the face of an impending political crisis. Only weeks earlier, protests
had erupted across Egypt in response to the regime’s lifting of subsidies
on basic staples such as flour and oil. These “Bread Riots” singlehand-
edly threatened to undo Sadat’s liberalizing economic strategy, known
as the infitah (opening) policy, and instantly became the most perilous
moment of his presidency. The gathering, carried live on state television,
was intended to mollify the seething populace and provide reassurances
of Sadat’s leadership at a time of political and social turmoil.
Following Sadat’s opening remarks, the floor was opened for the audi-
ence to express their views and ask questions of their president. In the
small crowd sat ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh, a young medical student
who was currently serving as the president of Cairo University’s Student
Union and the treasurer of the National Student Union’s Media Commit-
tee. As a founding member of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, the most prominent
religious organization within the university system, Abul Futuh’s rise
to the leadership of the Student Union was a sign of the times. Islamic-
oriented student activists had finally reached a position of influence after
a long and bitter struggle against their leftist rivals. And just as they had
succeeded in silencing Sadat’s most threatening political opponents, it
appeared that the Islamic movement’s usefulness to the regime was wear-
ing thin. As Abul Futuh recalled, “I was the only bearded one in the entire
meeting. . . . I rose my hand to speak several times but [Sadat] ignored me.
When he did not permit me to speak, I rose to the microphone anyway,
without permission, and my words were harsh.”1
Abul Futuh spoke on the state’s responsibility toward the youth and
the apparent contradictions between Sadat’s flowery rhetoric of a nation
built on “science and faith” and the actual practices of his regime. As an
example, he cited the case of Sheikh Muhammad al-Ghazali, one of the
foremost Islamic figures in Egypt, who had been reassigned from his po-
sition as a teacher and scholar to an administrative post that did not afford
students the opportunity to interact with him in a formal setting. Adding
insult to injury, the state sent internal security forces to disperse stu-
dents peacefully protesting this move.2 Abul Futuh continued his point
by asking, “Mr. President, why do you surround yourself with hypocrites
who do not work for Egypt’s interest? Why do you keep all the good people
away, and where is this country going?”3
Before Abul Futuh could complete his remarks, Sadat interrupted him
angrily. Seeing the entire purpose of the meeting undone by this brash
student activist, the red-faced president yelled at him to “stop right there!”
and proceeded to berate him with a lecture on respecting his elders. The
meeting was abruptly adjourned and in the months that followed, Abul
Futuh’s family worried over his personal safety after this very public spat
with the Egyptian president. Though no harm came to him personally,
the incident signified a new period of confrontation between the Islamic
movement and the state. Following the defeat of leftist elements in the
universities and society at large, the only remaining potent force of politi-
cal opposition was represented by al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, the precursor
for the return of the Muslim Brotherhood to Egyptian society.
Prior to Abul Futuh’s brush with fame at the expense of Sadat, Islamic
activism in Egypt had not made any significant waves. Only a few years
earlier, in 1973, Shabab al-Islam had reached the limits of its influence,
and al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya, the predecessor of Abul Futuh’s organiza-
tion, restricted its efforts to modest activities such as providing a prayer
space for students, conducting occasional Qur’an study circles, and host-
ing communal breakfasts during the month of Ramadan. In fact, with
the exception of the underground organization behind the events at the
Technical Military Academy in 1974, Islamic activism barely registered on
the radar of most Egyptians in the early 1970s, while the state believed it
would have a strong hand in nurturing the growth of an Islamic trend to
combat remnants of the old regime. Following their release from Nasser’s
Islam on Campus 107
prisons, the Muslim Brotherhood leadership endured several years of ex-

ternal pressures and internal disarray, all of which made it unlikely that
the organization would make an immediate impact on society. It was not
until 1976, with the launch of its monthly magazine, al-Da‘wa, that the
Muslim Brotherhood announced its official re-emergence onto the na-
tional stage.
In the meantime, it would be left to young Egyptians at the university
level, building upon the legacy of political activism by the student move-
ment, to infuse society with a rejuvenated Islamic mission. The students
who launched al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya into the orbit of political activism
represented the next stage in an ongoing process that began in the twi-
light of the Nasser period. As regime sponsored platforms of Arab na-
tionalism and socialism gave way to a potent wave of leftist opposition
after 1967, the leftist movement was soon met with a nascent Islamic
movement given tacit support by the new regime. By the mid-1970s, a
burgeoning movement, more deeply rooted in the new social and cultural
milieu, gradually positioned itself in deep opposition to Sadat, even as it
continued to enjoy the opened political space provided by the regime.
This bloc of student activists expanded in several directions, its public
mission culminating with its capture of the Student Unions of nearly
every university, while tacitly its leaders forged links with the Muslim
Brotherhood. These twin developments would come to characterize the
rise of Islamic activism and the restoration of the Muslim Brotherhood’s
role at the head of Egypt’s political opposition. This chapter begins with
an examination of the characteristics that distinguish this generation of
students. Separated only by a few years from their counterparts in Shabab
al-Islam, the students who developed al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya into an out-
right political movement typified a number of new trends unique to the
Sadat era. This transition is also of particular importance due to the fact
that the thousands of rank-and-file activists in al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya
would come to make up the base of the reconstituted Muslim Brother-
hood, giving the organization a different character in the latter quarter of
the twentieth century than it featured in the era of Hasan al-Banna or his
successor, Hasan al-Hudaybi.
In addition to its social profile, the Islamic student movement was
also distinguished by its intellectual roots. The influences of particular
religious and political texts, along with frequent interactions with lead-
ing scholars and intellectuals, played an important role in forming the
ideological basis upon which the student movement would pursue its
activist mission. These foundational influences and early activities form

the second key facet in the examination of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya. Con-
sidering that this movement was led primarily by students in the colleges
of medicine, engineering, and the hard sciences, external intellectual
forces played a critical role in cultivating a generation of Islamic activists
that did not otherwise produce its own scholars and thinkers.
Once the small and isolated religious groups on Egypt’s campuses
began to expand the scope of their mission and their ranks swelled with
greater numbers of eager students, the organizational structure of the
groups had to adapt accordingly, evolving to meet the growing needs of
student activists and the lofty ambitions of the leadership. These institu-
tional developments went hand in hand with the decision by many leaders
to participate in Student Union elections. The newfound access to consid-
erable resources and institutional support saw to it that not only would the
Islamic movement leave its imprint upon the wider student movement,
but the organizational mechanisms that it utilized would also help shape
the future of Islamic activism. Participation in Student Union elections
by leaders of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya would eventually pave the way for
young Muslim Brotherhood members to run for the leadership of profes-
sional syndicates and, beyond that, the Egyptian People’s Assembly.
Though it was emblematic of the fragile relationship between the state
and the Islamic movement, Abul Futuh’s confrontation with Sadat was
not the only occasion on which the two forces collided. The role of the
Egyptian regime in forging the political and social space in which a re-
vitalized Islamic movement could operate was an overarching theme of
this period. Nevertheless, the state was also determined to place hurdles
in the path of student activists to contain the growth of an Islamic current
from overwhelming Sadat’s political agenda. These external pressures
ultimately helped to shape the development of Islamic groups, at times
limiting their strategic choices, and in other instances offering them an
outlet that would not have existed without the regime’s consent, however
indeterminate it may have been.
Finally, it is worth taking stock of the Islamic movement’s achieve-
ments during the height of its public activism campaign. In universities
across the country, students were exposed to similar campaigns of reli-
gious education and were given new avenues for public religious expres-
sion, most notably in the form of Islamic summer camps that attracted
thousands of Egyptian youth. Additionally, the movement rallied around
individual issues, ranging from social ills and public morality to the
Islam on Campus 109
president’s overtures to Israel and the deposed shah of Iran. On the level
of organization building, the student leaders of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya
proved to be particularly adept, constructing a disciplined and structured
group that was more resilient to external forces. In fact, it was only after
the group’s leadership made the conscious decision to subsume its mis-
sion under the larger umbrella of the Muslim Brotherhood that the stu-
dent movement became subject to outside influences that successfully
channeled its energies toward a larger purpose. But the dynamic and vi-
brant nature of the student movement was such that the influence was
mutual, as the Muslim Brotherhood would find itself transformed by its
new partnership with the youth of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya.
“Religious from Birth”

Historically, Egypt’s system of higher education was the exclusive domain
of the privileged classes of society. Though students played a significant
role in national politics throughout the liberal era, the student population
was relatively homogenous, reflecting the socioeconomic imbalance that
favored urbanized elites who could afford to continue their post-secondary
education. Even after the revolution, as Gamal Abdel Nasser sought to
expand social services to include free higher education, the process was
slow and its effects on the majority of Egyptians remained limited. The
student activists of the 1960s and early 1970s continued to reflect a
common socioeconomic base, one that viewed itself as a vanguard for the
leftist or Islamic transformation of society.
By the mid-1970s, however, Sadat’s aggressive changes to state educa-
tion policy had altered the landscape of higher education in Egypt. Upon
rising to power, Sadat pursued a populist agenda designed to build a new
base of support. He declared it a national goal that all secondary school
graduates be admitted to university. Following the creation of an “admis-
sions authority” in 1971, new standards were drafted, creating a hierarchy
that would eventually allow all secondary graduates to pursue higher edu-
cation, ranging from medicine, as the most selective, to vocational train-
ing institutes, whose requirements were not as stringent. 4
Only four years later, the number of secondary graduates admitted
to higher learning programs surpassed 400,000 students, more than
doubling the 1971 figure of 199,074.5 As would be expected, the sudden
boom in the number of students put additional burdens on academic fa-
cilities, leading to a visible decline in the quality of education, and putting
additional pressure on the state to respond. Hoping to ease the strain on

Cairo and Alexandria, Sadat saw to the establishment of new universi-
ties in many provincial centers, including Tanta, Hilwan, Zaqaziq, and
al-Minya.6 For the first time in history, these institutions offered an outlet
of higher education for rural Egyptians, thereby reversing the decades-old
trend that saw urban middle class Egyptians make up over 85 percent of
the university student population.7
In altering the social makeup of the student population, Sadat aspired
to build a new political base, one that was not beholden to the elitist so-
cialist politics advanced by Nasser. Instead, Sadat bet that by infusing the
university environment with rural and working class students in greater
numbers, the ensuing political movement within the universities would
reflect more conservative and traditional cultural trends.8 Various tac-
tics also ensured that university faculty, suspected by Sadat of harboring
Nasserist sympathies, would exercise minimal influence over the nascent
student movement. A ballooning student to faculty ratio that would reach
666:1 by 1977 placed enormous teaching burdens on the faculty, leaving
them with little time to connect with students outside the classroom.9
Moreover, the state’s 1971 decision to remove mandatory faculty advisors
from student groups was indicative of Sadat’s desire to cultivate a new
student political culture free from the shackles of prior eras.
From the perspective of the regime, this development could be viewed
as a cautious and calculated strategy to secure its legitimacy and consoli-
date its power. In reality, however, the rise of an Islamic movement within
the new crop of students was due to forces largely outside Sadat’s control,
“partly rooted in an accumulation of rapid, unbalanced, social change.”10
In his analysis of socioeconomic developments during the early Sadat
years, Hinnebusch described a society in flux, still reeling from the ef-
fects of Nasserization, and now being forced to contend with yet another
transformation:
Massive urbanization was uprooting a growing number of persons

from the land and village community who could not be absorbed
by the modern urban sector of the economy. Set adrift from the
security of family and village, searching for a wider identity and
solidarity, yet barely removed from traditional life and values, their
heightened aspirations frustrated in a system dominated by a West-
ernized bourgeoisie, urban migrants were especially susceptible to
recruitment by a nativist social protest movement.11
Islam on Campus 111
Though this assessment is limited by its consideration of socioeconomic

factors as being at the root of the rise of a religious opposition, it none-
theless provides an added dimension to the explanation of why the Is-
lamic movement took the form that it did by the late 1970s. In contrast
to Shabab al-Islam, which was made up of cosmopolitan middle class
youth who had come of age during the height of Nasser’s popularity, only
to see their hopes dashed by economic stagnation and the 1967 defeat,
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya harbored no illusions about the regimes of Nasser
and his unproven successor.
Indeed, many of the youth of this period asserted that they emerged
with a strong sense of religiosity. Islam played a formative role in their
upbringing and the development of their identity. In describing his gen-
eration, which he defined as “those of us born in the 1950s,” Abul Futuh
argued that even during the staunchly secular and nationalist Nasser era,
Islam was everywhere to be found in his community.12 It is true, he said,
“[t]he regime was against any Islamic movement, but it was not against
Islam itself. The Islamic da‘wa was present, represented by al-Azhar, and
various associations and institutions.”13
Ibrahim al-Za‘farani attended the Medical College at Alexandria Uni-
versity, where he became active in the Islamic movement in the early
1970s. However, he maintained that his strong religious identity was not
acquired during his college years. Rather, growing up in a village in the
Kafr al-Sheikh region, Za‘farani found Islam to be deeply rooted in the
identity of Egyptian villagers.14 Describing his family and other villagers
as “religious from birth,” Za‘farani added that many villagers were also
resentful of the state’s land reform policies, which had dispossessed many
families of their land plots.15 In his study of Nasser and Sadat’s domestic
economic policies, Hamied Ansari confirmed not only the contention that
land policies were utilized by both regimes as a means of empowering
supporters and disempowering political opponents, but that opposition
was also frequently expressed in religious terms.16
From the Ordinary to the Exceptional

While the changing socioeconomic landscape helped lay the groundwork
for the transformation of political activism within Egyptian universities
and society at large, it was only one of several developments critical for the
rise of a renewed Islamic movement. Leaders within the Islamic student
movement stressed that while their religious consciousness played an
important part in developing their identities as youth, they experienced

an “ordinary” or “general” Islam that was no different from that which
was pervasive within Egyptian society as a whole.17 This tended to include
an emphasis on core Islamic beliefs and rituals, and the elementary study
of Islamic history and Qur’anic exegesis. Abul Futuh recalled that the
only religious societies allowed to operate during the Nasser era were
ones that were avowedly nonpolitical, such as al-Gam‘iyya al-Shar‘iyya,
Gama‘at Ansar al-Sunna, and the Sufi tariqas.18 For much of his child-
hood, there seemed to be no contradiction between supporting Nasser’s
decidedly secular agenda and adhering to a general religiosity in one’s
personal and family life.
As noted previously, it was only after the shock of the 1967 defeat that
cracks appeared in this arrangement. The sentiment expressed by the
youth of this era reflected a stark realization that they could no longer
abide by the Nasserist program and continue to live as Muslims. At a time
when the pillars that had stood strong for nearly two decades were crash-
ing down around them, Egyptians turned to their religious roots for an-
swers. Abul Futuh recalled that, after the 1967 war, his neighborhood
mosque became full of congregants eager to dig beneath the surface of
basic Islamic teachings for more fulfilling answers to the core problems
facing their society.19
Likening the fall of the “Nasserist revolution” to an “earthquake” that
befell Egypt, and the whole Arab world for that matter, Abul Futuh main-
tained that out of the rubble emerged a class of notable Islamic scholars
who sought to push the boundaries of acceptable topics of exploration and
discussion.20 Led by Sheikh Muhammad al-Ghazali, who preached at the
historic mosque of ‘Amr ibn al-‘As in Cairo, these scholars infused the
public discourse with a critique of the old order within an Islamic frame-
work. Sheikh Sayyid Sabiq also emerged from the margins to educate the
public on the role that Islam had to play in the future of the nation.21
Moreover, the Muslim Brotherhood, the maligned group that had for
so long played the role of enemy of the revolution (and accordingly, the
nation) was for the first time publicly mentioned in sympathetic terms.
For the many Egyptians who became completely disillusioned with Nass-
er’s leadership, his longtime critics began to be seen in a new light. Abul
Futuh credited his local imam, Sheikh al-Bihairi, with helping launch
the process of reintegrating the Muslim Brotherhood into the public con-
sciousness. “He would defend the Brothers and say that they were good
men who only wanted to build Egypt and wanted the best for its people,
Islam on Campus 113
but they collided with Gamal Abdel Nasser.”22 During this period, and
especially following Nasser’s death in September 1970, the image of the
Muslim Brotherhood was radically altered in the minds of many Egyp-
tians, becoming “models of sacrifice and redemption for the sake of the
nation.”23
By that same token, however, “the perception of the Muslim Brother-
hood as the possessor of a program for revival” was still several years
away.24 This was simply the earliest form of a process that continued
throughout the decade, gaining more steam with the release of the
Muslim Brotherhood’s leaders from prison; it was accelerated further by
the air of tolerance toward religious expression promoted in the early part
of Sadat’s rule. Contacts between the student movement and the Muslim
Brotherhood were extremely rare during this period. Instead, the youth
relied on intermediary, public figures, such as al-Ghazali, or local imams
like al-Bihairi, to learn about the banned organization.
The nascent forces of opposition were by no means limited to the re-
ligious sphere. Though they ultimately launched what would become a
decidedly Islamic movement, young students such as Abul Futuh and
‘Esam al-‘Erian also found inspiration in the emergence of other cultural
trends. The voice of the frustrated and disenfranchised masses of Egypt
found expression in the songs and poems of folk performers like poet
Ahmed Fu’ad Negm and singer/composer al-Sheikh Imam ‘Isa. Both
came from humble origins in the Egyptian countryside, and following a
brief traditional education, began long careers representing the poor and
working class of Egypt in their popular folk songs. They spoke out against
the political order at a time when it was far from safe to do so. Negm was
imprisoned by Nasser following his scathing critique of the regime in the
aftermath of the 1967 defeat, which he mourned with the words:
The state of Egypt is submerged under lies

And the people are confused
But everything is O.K. as long as our damned masters are happy
Because of the poets who fill their stomach with poems
Poems that glorify and appease even traitors
With God’s will, they will destroy the country. 25
Indeed, Negm later echoed the sentiments of many Egyptians toward

the political awakening brought about by the naksa. “The ‘67 defeat,” he
said, “made me into a poet.”26 Moreover, by virtue of their subversive art,
Negm and Imam led a wave of Egyptians who began to question their
leaders. According to Negm, until the June War “we used to believe what
the state media would tell us.”27 Up until this historical moment, “people
were afraid to speak out, for fear of imprisonment. But this collective fear
is what led to the defeat, so I promised myself not to be fearful after that
day, regardless of the consequences.”28
The process of self-empowerment and social consciousness proceeded
out of this pivotal historical moment. As Negm and Imam sang folk
songs about poverty, political corruption, and national pride in the face
of Western imperialism, a rising generation of Egyptians developed self-
awareness, a certain cynicism and disbelief toward political elites, and a
strong desire to seek alternative sources of information and accultura-
tion. The duo spared no one in their sardonic reflections on powerful
figures, from Nasser and Sadat, to Sha‘rawi Gom‘a, the notorious interior
minister, and Richard Nixon, the US president. Even Umm Kulthum, the
iconic songstress revered across the Arab world, was disparaged for her
perceived elitism and propensity to act on behalf of the regime. With each
public performance to which hundreds of Egyptians flocked, it became
increasingly clear that a new era of popular culture and political con-
sciousness was at hand.
Recounting his early days of student activism, ‘Esam al-‘Erian credited
the emergence of an oppositional culture, led by figures such as Negm
and Imam, with creating the fertile ground necessary for the rise of a new
movement.29 Akin to Bob Dylan and Pablo Neruda in the West, these art-
ists delivered their message in plain and accessible language, connecting
directly with the people they represented, and giving voice to a population
that for decades had been silenced. For their troubles, Negm and Imam
were frequently imprisoned, late in the Nasser era, and several times by
Sadat, who was doubtlessly irked that his attempts at populism were con-
stantly undermined by those truly in tune with the hopes and aspirations
of the Egyptian populace.
The emergence of this cultural trend played a pivotal role in the rise
of student activism in the 1970s. It aided in the formation of a distinct
identity to define the up and coming generation, featuring a unique and
poignant message articulated by cultural icons in the buoyant vernacular
of youth. The ability to challenge the status quo, a quality at the heart
of any popular social movement, was developed as a result of the confi-
dence imbued in the student population in the wake of one of the lowest
Islam on Campus 115
moments in modern Egyptian history. This was no easy feat, one that
required the coalescence of a variety of social forces and cultural symbols.
Building upon this effort, the young men entering university in the early
1970s became determined to transform their surrounding environment
and empower themselves through the use of existing institutions.
In the fall of 1970, Abul Futuh entered Cairo University’s College of
Medicine. Having received the highest marks in his secondary school’s
graduating class, he was admitted to the most prestigious college pro-
gram in Egypt. During the one-year pre-medical preparatory education
program at the College of Science, Abul Futuh recalled that there was no
semblance of religious activity on campus. The modest prayer space was
not put to use by students. Abul Futuh and only one other student, ‘Abd
al-Shafi Sawi, who had arrived at Cairo from al-Minya in upper Egypt,
would convene regularly for prayers between their classes.30 The few reli-
gious students on campus had even more reason to feel isolated. Coming
out of sheltered, conservative backgrounds, the younger students were
stunned to discover their older colleagues publicly denigrating Islamic
teachings and promoting a cultural and national identity devoid of any
religious attachments.31 In Alexandria, Za‘farani had witnessed a simi-
lar environment. His first day of class at the Medical College coincided
with Nasser’s death, and classes were promptly canceled to allow the long-
standing leader to be mourned by the university community, an event that
set the tone for the remainder of the year.32
In the summer of 1971, the first efforts to organize the activities of
the religiously oriented students were under way. Though they had re-
turned to their hometowns across the country for the summer holidays,
the students were determined to return to Cairo and discuss the future
of their campus-wide activities.33 The meeting took place at the Medical
Center for Cardiac and Rheumatoid Care, under the supervision of ‘Abd
al-Mon‘eim Abul Fadl, an accomplished physician, scientist, and educator
who served as a mentor to the religious students. At the gathering, the
students resolved to take a more active role in the propagation of their
faith, and expand the scope of their activities to take on a slightly more po-
liticized bent. On one level, this last point was a reflection of the increas-
ingly politically charged atmosphere in Egypt during the early months of
the Sadat regime. More specifically, it was also a direct consequence of
the difficulties the students had faced in their confrontations with leftist
activists.
The following year, as the students began their medical studies at

the Qasr al-‘Aini Medical School, they were astonished to find that in the
span of a year, the student population had changed substantially, with the
campus mosque filling with congregants during prayer time. Encouraged
by this sudden rise of religious consciousness, several students attempted
to expand the offerings of religious services beyond prayers to include
Qur’anic study circles and communal breakfasts during the month of
Ramadan. Soon, a group of students also determined to initiate campus-
wide outreach, reacting to the long-standing anti-Islamic sentiments ex-
pressed by the contingent of leftist student activists.
Responding to this general air of hostility to their faith, Abul Futuh
and other students posted wall magazines providing basic religious les-
sons and exploring issues of halal and haram (lawful and impermissi-
ble) in Islam. They also proceeded to escalate their awareness campaign,
printing and distributing pamphlets, leaving short religious messages on
the chalkboards of classrooms, and ultimately engaging the leftist stu-
dents in heated debates on questions such as the compatibility of Islam
with modern systems of governance.34 But the leftist students had honed
their debating skills for years, while the younger and more inexperienced
students wishing to defend their faith found it difficult to counter many
of the complex arguments being tossed their way. Abul Futuh and his
colleagues turned inward, embarking on a journey of self-reflection and
more sophisticated religious education.
Joined by future student leaders such as Muhammad Yousuf, Hasan
‘Abd al-Fattah, Sanaa’ Abu Zayd, and ‘Abd al-Rahman Hasan, Abul Futuh
approached Sheikh al-Ghazali for answers to the complex questions that
many of them had never contemplated. The elder scholar patiently of-
fered his expertise in regular talks at the ‘Amr ibn al-‘As mosque, while
also referring them to a number of texts that delved into such matters
in greater detail. “During this period,” Abul Futuh recalled, “we discov-
ered the routes to all the major Islamic bookshops.”35 The youth eagerly
read seminal religious texts such as al-Ghazali’s ‘Aqeedat al-Muslim (The
Doctrine of the Muslim) and Khuluq al-Muslim (The Behavior of the Muslim).
They were taken by Sheikh Sayyid Sabiq’s humorous and personable style,
and found his Fiqh al-Sunna (Jurisprudence of the Tradition) to be a defini-
tive work of Islamic jurisprudence. Bahi al-Khouli’s series of articles left a
strong impression on Abul Futuh and his classmates, while ‘Isa ‘Abduh’s
lectures on Islamic economics were the first that any of them had ever
heard on the topic.36
Islam on Campus 117
On the whole, this exposure to an elder intellectual class was instru-

mental in cultivating the activist mindset of the student movement of the
1970s. In essence, this didactic enterprise marshaled the transformation
from an “ordinary” religiosity to the “exceptional” vision of Islam put forth
by scholars in the modernist tradition. This Islamic educational movement
initiated the development of “the idea of a civilizational project for the
Ummah” within a new generation. “Though I was religious from a young
age,” Abul Futuh stated, “I had never heard of this before.”37
Structural Evolution: Rise of the Islamic Society

With the growing political awareness of the students and the steady de-
velopment of a more comprehensive vision of Islam’s role in public life
came an evolution in the content produced in wall magazines, booklets,
and pamphlets. Some of this early political content focused on general
critiques of the country’s political and cultural elites, while pointing to
exemplary models of just leadership from classical Islamic figures such
as ‘Umar ibn al-Khattab, the second caliph. These elementary writings
also took on a broad nationalist tone, expressing strong opposition to the
Zionist project and calling for the liberation of Arab lands.
During the course of these events, student activists faced frequent ob-
struction by the leadership of the Student Union, “which rejected even
this simple religious activity and wished to control all student activism.”38
Wishing to operate through legitimate and authorized channels, the stu-
dents organized their activities through the Committee for Religious
Awareness (al-Taw‘iya al-Diniyya), an extension of the Student Union’s
Cultural Committee that was set up by Abul Fadl several years earlier.
Even with this official recognition of the religious committee’s work, the
Student Union repeatedly refused to provide the resources required by the
students to conduct their activities, such as a meeting space and printing
supplies. For students like Abul Futuh, this served as an early lesson in
the importance of achieving political clout for the pursuit of his group’s
activities.
Following a frustrating second year that saw their activities hampered
by the authority of the Student Union, the Islamic activists at Qasr al-‘Aini
Medical School went about reorganizing their mission under the banner
of al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya (the Religious Association). This move effec-
tively replaced the previous Committee for Religious Awareness with a
new, independent organization that was not subject to the oversight of the
hostile Student Union. Since the group had enjoyed few of the benefits
associated with being affiliated with the Student Union, members viewed
the break as a positive step forward.
Freed from administrative constraints following this internal restruc-
turing, the movement’s program underwent considerable expansion,
especially in the printing and distribution of reading materials, and the
frequency of religious lectures and study circles. The structure featured
a simple hierarchy: at the top was the amir, or leader, chosen through
informal consensus by a consultative council, majlis al-shura, made up
of a core group of the most active members. Finally, there was the gen-
eral membership, or those students whose level of activity was limited
to engaging in occasional public forums and other open programs. As
most leaders stressed, the Islamic student movement, in its various in-
carnations, never had an official process for membership, did not provide
identification cards, and did not maintain records or rolls of all who joined
in its activities. Nor were there any dues or other monetary requirements,
though all students were encouraged to donate for the support of the
group’s programs.39
Looking outward, the student leadership of al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya also
resolved to take on the Student Union directly by standing in elections
beginning in 1973. Even as its activities flourished within a hostile en-
vironment, the Islamic movement believed that its mission of spreading
the da‘wa, or calling on their fellow students to reassert the place of Islam
in their lives, could not be accomplished without the institutional support
provided by the Student Union. 40 As Abul Futuh noted, taking control
of the Student Union was not an end in itself for al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya.
Rather, it was part of a strategy to marginalize the leftist forces that had
dominated campus activities and to carve out a permanent place for the
Islamic movement. 41
Deciding to run candidates in all six Student Union committees in
the Medical College, al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya aspired to make its presence
felt and to test its growing strength among the student population. By
the leadership’s own account, the group even ran a candidate for the Arts
Committee who not only had no qualifications for the post, but actually
expressed outright hostility toward the arts. 42 Though they had mobilized
a wide network of supporters, the religious students were not considered
to be a credible threat to the leftist hold on the Student Union. It was only
after leaders from al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya won four out of six committee
chairs that the long-standing leftist leadership realized that the Islamic
Islam on Campus 119
student movement was slowly taking the mantle of authority over student
activism.
In the wake of al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya’s victory, the campus witnessed
a sudden surge in Islamic activism. This was due in part to the emergence
of strong leaders within the movement’s ranks. Having just started at the
university earlier that year, younger students, like ‘Esam al-‘Erian and Mu-
hammad ‘Abd al-Latif, energized the movement and began to focus their
energies on organizing their peers. More directly, however, in his new-
found position as president of the Student Union, Abul Futuh ensured
that al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya received the requisite funds and access to re-
sources to see its activities flourish. Sanaa’ Abu Zayd was chosen to serve
as amir by an inner circle of active members of al-Gam‘iyya a l-Diniyya.
Together, the two close friends saw to it that their respective positions al-
lowed for a well-coordinated strategy for the student movement.
In the contest for influence over the student body, however, Abul
Futuh leaves no doubt that it was not the Student Union president, but
rather the amir of al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya who held the most sway over the
rank-and-file of the student movement. “The real power,” he said, “was in
the hands of the amir.”43 As a result of the close relationship between Abul
Futuh and Abu Zayd, and the conscious process of dividing the functions
of their positions, the two leaders saw their roles as complementary to one
another rather than adversarial in nature. While the position of Student
Union president was viewed as one of a necessary functionary capable of
delivering the means for the Islamic movement to progress, the amir was
the spiritual head of the movement and was entrusted with cultivating its
overarching vision and managing its daily affairs.
The term itself was chosen because of its classical Islamic connota-
tion, harkening back to an idealized historical era in which religious
and political leadership were wedded in the position of the caliph, also
known as amir al-mu’minin (commander of the faithful). 44 This choice
also reflected the central role that classical Islamic texts played in the
formative period of the student movement. In stark contrast to the recent
failures of secular leadership in Egypt, the model of just rulers during
the golden era of Islam left a strong impression on the youth. The stu-
dents referred to a particular Prophetic tradition that states, “If you are
three, make one of you an amir.”45 This Hadith provided the inspirational
framework for a simple organizational structure with one figure at its
head, whose legitimacy stemmed directly from the initial consent of the
group.
1 2 0 a ns w er ing t he c a l l
The traditional concept of al-sam‘ wal-ta‘a (to listen and obey) was ad-
opted to strengthen the authority of the amir, and set the leader apart
from the general membership. Though there was the potential for abuse
of power by demanding blind loyalty to the leader, students repeatedly
stressed that no amir was ever interested in power for the sake of power.
Indeed, Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi, a student leader at ‘Ain Shams
University, believed that observing this concept was critical to the success
of the movement during this stage. 46 Moreover, the selection of leaders
generally occurred organically, with some activists demonstrating their
qualities and developing a large following. The internal dynamic was
marked by strong feelings of camaraderie and brotherhood, especially in
light of the multitude of external adversaries facing the nascent Islamic
movement.
Hand in hand with this vision of leadership, al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya
developed its structural hierarchy. This process took off following the
spontaneous reevaluation of the group’s name. Abul Futuh recalled that
one day in 1973, as he and ‘Abd al-Rahman Hasan were leaving their
customary short Islamic lesson on the chalkboard, Abul Futuh ques-
tioned whether they should sign it “al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya” in their
usual manner. “Why do we not sign it ‘al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’?” he won-
dered. 47 The description was more expressive of the group’s true charac-
ter. It also evoked the name of a popular social movement organization
founded in Pakistan by Mawlana Mawdudi who, incidentally, also served
as that group’s amir. At a time when the Muslim Brotherhood of Egypt
was still in disarray, the Jamaat-i-Islami provided an exemplary model of
a modern Islamic movement that held to its religious tradition while also
operating within a contemporary political context. From that moment,
as Abul Futuh and Hasan decided to sign off their daily moral with
“al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya” (the Islamic Society), the organization was of-
ficially renamed for the last time.
Unlike the transition from al-Taw‘iyya al-Diniyya to al-Gam‘iyya
al-Diniyya, the move from the latter to al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya featured
no change to the group whatsoever, whether in its ideology or organi-
zational structure. 48 Rather, this simple alteration in name reflected the
Islamic movement’s growing confidence with its mission, a settling on
a distinct identity, and increased comfort with the political and sociocul-
tural space in which it operated. 49 It demonstrated maturity on the part
of a vibrant youth movement that had entered its fourth year at Cairo
University’s Medical College, and had begun to spread widely to other
Islam on Campus 121
colleges and subsequently to other universities throughout the country.50

Although prior groups had defined themselves as explicitly Islamic (most
notably, Shabab al-Islam), what distinguished al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya was
the introspective nature of its decision to redefine its organization. It was
not depicting itself in opposition to the dominant secular, leftist political
youth culture. Nor was it distinguishing its religious identity from those
of non-Muslim activists. Rather, it represented the culmination of the
struggle to achieve organizational cohesion and the process of intellectual
contemplation of the nature of Islamic activism itself. The “association”
had become a “society.” The “religious” had become “Islamic.” The move-
ment had become self-aware.
The Amir of Amirs

Within a year, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya had spread to every other college
at Cairo University and indeed, to nearly every university within Egypt.
The growth experienced by the group after 1973 came as a result of a
combination of factors: the appearance of a new class of energetic youth
at other colleges and universities eager to extend the da‘wa on their cam-
puses; and the presence of a strong, centralized leadership at the Medi-
cal College willing to play the role of mentor to branch groups around
the country. Following the initial stage of launching the movement and
establishing its central organization, the period of 1974–1977 featured al-
Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s consolidation of the national Islamic student move-
ment under its leadership.
The evolution of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s organizational structure
granted the central leadership the institutional capacity with which to
nurture the growth of corresponding groups. During the 1974–1975 aca-
demic year, the leaders at the Medical College created a council of amirs
from every chapter of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya at Cairo University. When
the council convened for the first time, it elected ‘Esam al-‘Erian, the re-
cently chosen amir of the Medical College chapter, as the head of this
council.51 In his capacity as the amir of Cairo University, al-‘Erian ef-
fectively managed the mission and activities of the entire organization.
During biweekly meetings, leaders at other colleges looked to his leader-
ship on a number of fronts, from which texts and scholars to consult and
how to confront challenges from leftist students, to how to attract a wide
following, compete in union elections, and maximize the utility of re-
sources available to them.52 This disciplined and coordinated strategy was
critical in establishing al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya as the preeminent student

organization for the remainder of the decade.
In 1977, the organization decided to expand even further, calling for
a meeting of all amirs from every university in Egypt. At the summit,
student leaders selected Helmi al-Gazzar, the young activist from the
Cairo University Medical College, as the amir of the council. This latest
development saw the organization reach the fruition of its structural
evolution. In the preceding years, it had succeeded in establishing a
strong presence at every Egyptian university, and now it had seen to it
that all of these chapters were linked directly through a communica-
tions and strategy network and were brought under the umbrella of a
powerful, centralized leadership. In his capacity as amir of the body that
oversaw every chapter of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, al-Gazzar became one
of the most influential leaders in the history of Egyptian student activ-
ism. His command over a sizable contingent of the student body put him
directly at odds with the president of the republic, who was becoming
increasingly ineffective at reaching the restive youth. When al-Gazzar
was among the many activists arrested in the expansive security sweeps
in late 1981, Sadat mockingly referred to him as “amir-ul-umara” (amir
of amirs).53
Al-Gazzar’s selection as the head of a national council of amirs sig-
naled the consolidation of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s authority over the
national Islamic movement. Chapters at other colleges and universities
looked to the movement that started it all, at the Cairo University Medical
College, for wisdom and guidance on how to proceed in developing their
own mission. This consultation required a high degree of coordination,
and as such, leaders in Cairo engaged in frequent written correspondence
and even took occasional trips to campuses throughout Egypt, “from
A lexandria to Aswan.”54 The Cairo leadership would also take advantage
of annual summer camps to spend time with leaders from other chapters.
A primary purpose of these meetings was to identify the most active
figures at other universities and to designate an amir in the event that one
was needed to fill an opening. Among the criteria Abul Futuh, al-‘Erian,
and al-Gazzar used to select a chapter head was their personal religious
observance and general behavior, in addition to their record of student
activism. In practice, however, this usually entailed simple affirma-
tion of leaders already in place as the heads of their respective groups,
rather than handpicking individuals who were otherwise unknown. The
Islam on Campus 123
intra-organizational responsibilities added to the growing list of demands

on the time and resources of the core group at the Cairo University Med-
ical College, so much that the leaders would have to finance the long-
distance trips out of their own pockets and in some instances delegate the
task to their colleagues.55
In this fashion, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya established a vast network
that allowed for the growth of a vibrant movement with a strong struc-
tural hierarchy. Leaders in Cairo welcomed the opportunity to work with
amirs across the country, such as veteran activist Za‘farani in Alexan-
dria, Anwar Shahata in Tanta, and Muh’iddin ‘Isa in Assiut. Before long,
the amir in Cairo became looked upon as a murshid (guide) to groups
everywhere, according to Abul Futuh.56 There was no conscious deter-
mination to emulate the model instituted by the Muslim Brotherhood
and its role of al-murshid al-‘am (general guide), but the fact remained
that as it solidified its structural hierarchy, placing an authoritative head
with symbolic as well as actual powers at the top, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya
was becoming increasingly akin to the banned organization. Due to his
vast following and the respect he commanded, the student murshid’s au-
thority trumped even that of the union president, though as long as the
unions remained in the hands of the Islamic movement, the amir rarely
had cause to exert his authority over a body that followed his lead on mat-
ters of activism.
Parallel with these developments was the continuing success of the
Islamic movement within Student Union elections. Though it had en-
joyed early victories at Cairo University, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s hold on
the Student Unions remained tenuous for several years. When prominent
leftist activist Ziyad ‘Abd al-Qadir ‘Awda ran against Abul Futuh in the
1976 union elections, Abul Futuh emerged victorious by only two votes,
86–84.57
Elsewhere, electoral advances were far more gradual. In Alexandria, the
first elections contested by the Islamic movement came in 1973, when its
leaders won 50 percent of the votes across the various positions. Za‘farani
recalled that, at the time, few students knew much about al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya, but the group benefited from the rampant corruption and
nepotism for which the established union leadership had become known.58
Framing themselves in contrast to their opponents, the Islamic move-
ment’s leaders became notable for their strong moral character, having
worked for charitable causes and having denounced the corrupt practices
and lack of transparency within the union. By 1975, their victory was far
more sweeping, and only a year later, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya had come
to control virtually the whole Student Union at Alexandria University.
Though he served as amir of the Medical College’s chapter, Za‘farani also
served on political and cultural committees of the union, and later became
its treasurer.59
Participation occurred even more slowly in upper Egypt. Abul ‘Ela
Madi, a student leader at al-Minya University, recalled that al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya was highly resistant to the idea of engaging the Student
Union, because of the endemic corruption within it, and its connection
to the regime.60 On a fundamental level, though, there appeared to be an
aversion among more traditional students in upper Egypt to participation
in Western-inspired democratic models that did not preface their institu-
tional structures with the supremacy of divine commandments. It was
only after a series of intense discussions among student leaders on a na-
tional level that the last of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s leaders came around
to the idea of institutional engagement.
Madi credited Abul Futuh in particular, whom he first encountered at
the 1976 Islamic camp in Cairo, with convincing hesitant student leaders
to participate in union elections. The following year, after Abul Futuh’s
confrontation with Sadat, Madi and several other student leaders visited
him to demonstrate their solidarity in the aftermath of the affair. During
the ensuing discussions, “he convinced us all to join the elections in No-
vember. Though many of us thought the Student Union was a corrupt
institution, he told us it could be used for harm as well as good, and it
contained many resources to help us expand our work.”61
Sure enough, by late 1977, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya had contested union
elections at every major university in Egypt, sweeping leadership posts
in all of them. Madi himself was elected to the national union, becom-
ing vice president of the powerful body. For the student activists of upper
Egypt, however, this experiment with institutional engagement would
prove to be short-lived, as the regime clamped down on all participation
in 1979, reversing all electoral gains made and handpicking future union
leaders.62 Nonetheless, the experience proved invaluable. According to
its leading participants, success in Student Union elections proved that
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya represented a true vision of Islam with which
many Egyptian youth identified, and that its leadership was capable of
running state institutions and could be entrusted with the future of the
nation more so than any of its rivals.63
Islam on Campus 125
The Freedom Factor

Early in the process of making significant gains in its program, the Is-
lamic student movement became keenly aware that its behavior would
be subject to the scrutiny of its peers and the regime. Long aided by the
Nasser regime in its pursuit of a broad national consensus over major
policies, leftist student groups found themselves in the unfamiliar posi-
tion of being the most vocal opposition to the government beginning in
1968. Their conflict with the state escalated with the rise of Sadat, who
had no socialist credentials to speak of, and was rapidly transforming the
regime by expelling prominent leftist figures and initiating economic lib-
eralization measures. With the rise of a new political force, diametrically
opposed to the leftist political culture and vision that dominated the uni-
versities, the Islamic movement understood that it would face accusations
of acting at the behest of the young regime.
Activists from the era acknowledged that they were frequently charged
with being a tool of Sadat to quash the leftist movement. Abul Futuh re-
sponded simply that:
as someone who lived this period, and was among those who
founded the Islamic activism within it, I would have been in a
position in which no details of an agreement between Sadat and
the Islamic movement would have passed me by. In fact, I can say
with certainty that any such agreement with Sadat would have been
done with me personally, in my capacity as leader of the Islamic
student movement, and God is our witness that we did not make
an agreement with the regime, or with anyone.64
Badr Muhammad Badr, the amir at Cairo University’s College of Com-

munication in the late 1970s, echoed those sentiments, declaring that
while Sadat was advised to capitalize on the rise of Islamic movements
to suppress his leftist opponents, “these offers by the regime did not suc-
ceed in convincing the principled ones to work for its benefit.”65 Rather,
most leaders from al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya maintained that the regime’s
efforts to co-opt Islamic activism came in the form of its support for (or
according to some, creation of) Shabab al-Islam, the short-lived group that
featured in the early 1970s. In support of this claim, they cite the observed
behavior of this competing group’s members, as well as the testimony of
its leaders.66
Most leaders from al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya readily admitted that they

judged the suitability and, indeed, the commitment of their fellow stu-
dents to Islamic activism based on outward appearances: demonstrations
of personal piety, observing regular prayers, maintaining beards and tra-
ditional dress, self-segregating from members of the opposite sex and
non-religious students, and general avoidance of popular cultural prac-
tices like listening to music and going to the cinema. By these standards,
some of the students who publicly proclaimed to be members of Shabab
al-Islam fell fall short of expectations. Abul Futuh recalled hearing from
‘Esam al-Sheikh, the amir of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya at the Engineering
College of Cairo University, that “‘we did not know who these students
were who made up Shabab al-Islam, for they did not join us in any prior
activity, but now they speak openly to students about Islam, even stand-
ing with female students and talking to them about Islam. We came to
the conclusion then that these students from Shabab al-Islam were not
observant and therefore did not align with us.”67
This was a widespread sentiment among Islamic activists, some of
whom went further in condemning Shabab al-Islam’s members for not ad-
hering to “Islamic manners and behavior, for they would smoke cigarettes
openly and engage female students in the colleges. This was unacceptable
from the perspective of a Muslim youth fulfilling Islamic manners.”68
Moreover, critics added that Shabab al-Islam attempted to usurp the ac-
tivism of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya (and its forerunners) by holding its own
lectures and seminars in which it would only invite state religious figures
promoted by the regime.69
In support of their suspicions of Shabab al-Islam, these critics also
noted that leaders such as Wa’il ‘Uthman and ‘Adli Mustafa readily ad-
mitted being approached by regime figures to promote the interests of
Sadat.70 Though this was in fact true, ‘Uthman and Mustafa categorically
denied making any agreement or accepting any offers of support, a point
neglected by their detractors from al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya. As described in
greater detail in Chapter 2, the distrust between the groups was mutual,
and was owed in part to the cultural differences between them, but also
to actual evidence of regime intervention in the form of copycat groups,
unauthorized chapters of Shabab al-Islam that emerged in other colleges.
By characterizing the regime’s attempts to incorporate the Islamic
movement into its own program as having occurred solely through the
efforts with Shabab al-Islam, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya effectively removed
any doubts about the genuine nature of its own mission. Abul Futuh
Islam on Campus 127
repeatedly stated that his movement was “natural” and “spontaneous,”

without any guidance from the authorities. Though they frequently lev-
eled charges of collaboration, even leftist critics of the Islamic move-
ment have generally pointed only to indirect contacts, usually conducted
through university officials, something al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya has also
not denied.
An important figure whose name frequently appears in discussions on
the rise of Islamic activism within Egyptian universities is Sufi Abu Talib.
Trained as a lawyer, Abu Talib was an accomplished scholar who rose to
become the vice president of Cairo University in 1973. His sympathies
toward the Islamic movement were widely known, especially in the face
of a leftist resurgence during the early Sadat years. Abu Talib was the ar-
chitect of the effort to incorporate Shari‘a statutes into Egypt’s legal code;
he became the speaker of the Egyptian parliament in 1978, remaining in
that post through the end of the Sadat era.
During his tenure as a high-ranking university official, however, he
was in frequent contact with student leaders, providing moral and logisti-
cal support for their activities. Abul Futuh recalled that in one instance
during his time as Student Union president, he and Muhammad ‘Abd
al-Latif, vice president of the Medical College Student Union, were ap-
proached by Abu Talib, who was incensed about a demonstration sched-
uled by leftist activists. According to Abul Futuh, Abu Talib asked the two
student leaders, “‘How can you allow them to hold a protest?’ so I said
to him, ‘they are free to do that.’ He replied, provocatively, ‘How? You
are unable to stop them?’ so ‘Abd al-Latif responded to him, ‘we are not
batons to be used to club others.’”71
Though the student movement frequently challenged his authority to
control its activities, youth leaders generally enjoyed a good relationship
with Abu Talib. He helped the students organize the elaborate annual
summer camps, and even felt comfortable enough with some of them
to tell Abul Futuh, for instance, when he thought his beard had grown
too long and needed to be trimmed.72 Abu Talib’s support for the Islamic
movement could be (and often was) construed as official sanction of
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya by the regime.73 Given the severe restrictions on
independent student activism strictly enforced by the Nasser regime, the
relative freedom provided by Sadat could easily be viewed through the
lens of his narrow political objectives. But if that were the case, many stu-
dent leaders argued, the regime would have placed barriers before other
political movements and would have created a space in which only the
Islamic movement would be allowed to operate. In reality, Sadat granted

equal freedom to all ideological trends. This was predicated upon an as-
sumption by the president that, if left to their own devices, Egyptians
would gravitate toward their Islamic identity and away from the leftist
ideologies cultivated by Nasser.74
During the early years of the Sadat regime, this indeed appeared to be
the case. Egyptians enjoyed political freedoms that had been unknown
since the revolution two decades earlier. Abul Futuh emphasized that at
no time during its rise did the student movement feel threatened by the
regime. They met in the open, held meetings that brought thousands of
students from across the country, marched through the streets of differ-
ent cities in protest, distributed books of varying political viewpoints, and
invited Islamic scholars of all ideological stripes.75 According to student
leaders, at no time did the regime attempt to block these activities. In fact,
there was not even a sense among the students that the state security ap-
paratus was monitoring these events with concern. The university guard
was withdrawn early on, a move that sent a clear message to the student
movement that it was free to organize and speak openly within the con-
fines of its campuses.
In hindsight, this illustration may appear to have been exaggerated,
given some of the periodic excesses of Sadat and the swift security clamp-
down that occurred after 1977, but in the promising early years, the stu-
dents genuinely felt no fear of retribution and believed “the world was
opened before us.”76 By 1975, as it appeared that even the Muslim Brother-
hood, the banned organization regarded as the chief public enemy of the
Nasser regime, was no longer subject to the same restrictions, the stu-
dent movement believed strongly in the freedom to act without restraint.
Viewed more critically, however, these policies were not part of a broad
program of political liberalization, but rather a short-term effort to solidify
Sadat’s legitimacy that began with the Corrective Revolution of May 1971
and was extended after the October War of 1973 that saw Sadat’s popular-
ity reach unprecedented heights.
Additionally, the opened social space for political expression went hand
in hand with the infitah policy for economic liberalization that sought to
engage a greater segment of the Egyptian population—particularly young
professionals and entrepreneurs—in the expanding national economy.
The annual growth witnessed by the Egyptian economy, reaching 8 per-
cent at its height, provided Sadat with a new political base of support that
allowed him “to adapt the authoritarian state to the growing social and
Islam on Campus 129
ideological pluralization of the political arena.”77 In essence, the free-

dom experienced by the student movement was a transitory means to an
end: achieving full de-Nasserization and consolidating Sadat’s authority.
However, this did not make it any less meaningful for the students of al-
Gama‘a al-Islamiyya. And its effects were demonstrable.
Building the Complete Muslim

Rarely has a youth movement exhibited such ambition as the Islamic
student movement of the 1970s, and for it to have singlehandedly trans-
formed the social and political scene in Egypt is even more extraordinary.
The accomplishments of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya stem from its pursuit of a
simple objective: spreading its da‘wa. In a typical early document entitled
“Our Da‘wa,” al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya declared to the student body that:
[t]he da‘wa of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya is simple and clear. It is neither

complicated nor ambiguous. Nonetheless, rarely do we find anyone
in the university who understands it correctly. Our call is the call
of Islam, the call to establish society on an Islamic foundation. Our
thought is unwaveringly Islamic. And we understand Islam, good
brother, within the bounds of these twenty principles.78
The statement proceeded to list the famous Twenty Principles, first ar-
ticulated by Hasan al-Banna, that detail the central beliefs of the pious
Muslim. They begin with a general statement on the comprehensive
nature of Islam as a system to govern all aspects of life, and move on
to describe particular ideals, such as following the exemplary model of
Prophetic leadership, emphasizing the centrality of holy scripture, imple-
menting divine law, and remaining vigilant against forces that threaten
the faith.
This public pronouncement captures the first stage of the activist mis-
sion of the Islamic student movement, the practice known as tarbiya, or
religious instruction.79 Programs for Islamic education accounted for the
vast majority of student activities, especially during the early period of
campus organizing. In fact, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya developed a strict cur-
riculum that it promoted among its members. In another document it
published, entitled “Why al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya?” the group declared,
“al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya fulfills its role in cultivating a generation of youth
able to face the plans of its enemies, the enemies of God, and calls on all of
you to join it in its educational program for the coming year.”80 In the long
list of instructions, students were told to memorize the thirtieth part of
the Qur’an, the first fifteen Hadiths out of a popular published collection
of forty, and to study Qur’anic exegesis and the elementary procedures
of Islamic jurisprudence, or fiqh. Alongside each instruction, specific
book recommendations were listed, with Sabiq’s Fiqh al-Sunna featuring
prominently.
The program laid out by the tarbiya list was expected to be accom-
plished within an academic year. Additional lists supplemented the
original program, suggesting more advanced texts to build upon one’s
knowledge and collectively expand the intellectual horizons of the stu-
dent movement. Though these were individual targets that all commit-
ted members were expected to meet, the didactic process was in most
instances a collective effort. Students shared books, many of which were
loaned out from al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s library collection. Weekly study
circles were meant to enhance the knowledge achieved from texts and,
at times, even afforded students the opportunity to meet the authors of
some of the seminal works in contemporary Islamic thought.
But the activity most critical to the process of tarbiya was the annual
summer camps organized by al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya in conjunction with
the Student Union.81 These camps featured intensive programs designed
not only to instruct the students in matters of Islamic belief, but also to
provide them with an avenue to practice an idealized interpretation of
Islamic precepts during their daily interactions. Held at Cairo University
in the summer of 1973, the first of these camps featured an appearance
by Ahmed Kamal Abul Magd, Sadat’s minister of youth.82 Also in Cairo,
‘Ain Shams University held a parallel camp that included forty students
from al-Azhar University.83 Shorter camps held at individual colleges
during the winter holiday also became a regular occurrence. The fol-
lowing year, the Cairo University camp was greatly expanded, and wel-
comed the involvement of two Islamic luminaries, Sheikh Muhammad
al-Ghazali and Sheikh Yousuf al-Qaradawi.84 The camp format spread
across Egypt in subsequent years until, by 1977, every major university
in Egypt was holding its own Islamic summer camp. Though they were
some of the latest to join in these programs, universities in al-Minya,
Assiut, and Mansoura quickly became some of the most active in the
country, while the impact of Alexandria University was second only to the
developments in Cairo.
Islam on Campus 131
A look at a typical program from an Islamic summer camp is indica-

tive of its rigorous nature, and illustrates how it was effective in accom-
plishing much in a relatively short time:85
3:00: Wakeup for overnight prayer

4:00: Call to prayer
4:20: Dawn prayer
4:50: Morning religious remembrance
5:20: Lessons in Qur’anic recitation
6:10: Prepare for morning exercise line
6:30: Morning exercise line
7:30: Prepare breakfast
8:00: Breakfast
9:00: Free reading period
10:00: Morning lecture
12:00: Noon prayer
12:45: Afternoon rest
15:00: Lunch
15:30: Afternoon prayer
16:30: Evening lecture
18:00: Evening religious remembrance
19:00: Sunset prayer
19:30: Dinner
20:00: Night prayer
20:30: Committee meetings
21:30: Sleep
In the midst of this intensive combination of spiritual observance and

instruction, intellectual discussion, and physical activity, the youth de-
veloped and matured in all aspects of their lives and established strong
bonds and feelings of camaraderie with one another. Moreover, the em-
phasis on discipline, which was at the heart of these activities, translated
into a solid organizational foundation for the remainder of the year. In
fact, one leader recalled that students living on the university campuses
enforced a similar program in their dormitories year-round, observing
regular communal prayers, sharing meals, and joining together in ath-
letic events when they were not busy studying or pursuing their other
intellectual activities.86
For many students, their first real exposure to the Islamic movement
came in the form of attending these camps. Such was the case with Gamal
‘Abd al-Salam, who would become active in al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya at the
Medical College of Cairo University. Although he entered the university
in 1975, it was not until he attended the summer camp of 1976 that he
became dedicated to the Islamic movement.87 There, he witnessed first-
hand the da‘wa of the elder generation of accomplished scholars tailored
and delivered directly to the youth by figures like Qaradawi, Ghazali, ‘Abd
al-Mut‘ali Gabr, and Mustafa Mashhur.
The process of indoctrination was reinforced throughout the year by
similar events held within the university walls. Public lectures, closed
seminars, and daylong conferences, all building on Islamic themes,
became permanent fixtures on the academic calendar. Access to Student
Union resources also provided al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya with the ability
to publish Islamic booklets, many of which simply rehashed older texts,
though they became available to a new generation for the first time. Abul
Futuh edited a periodical entitled Sawt al-Haqq (Voice of Truth), one of
the first to reintroduce the writings of Hasan al-Banna and Sayyid Qutb,
which had been banned by Nasser, and was only permitted to resume
publication in 1974. Mahmoud Ghozlan, an instructor at the Cairo Uni-
versity College of Agriculture, selected most of the excerpts, which in-
cluded classical as well as modern scholars, and covered a wide array of
issues.88
At al-Minya University, students even took liberties with these texts,
refashioning them to suit the current political, social, and ideological cli-
mate. Madi, for instance, recalled that of the Twenty Principles of Hasan
al-Banna, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya only published eighteen, out of concern
that two of Banna’s points about the nature of spirituality and its practices
would offend the sensibilities of the more conservative Salafi students
who had adopted an outlook that was highly critical of Sufism.89
The Student Union also allocated a portion of its budget to subsidize
student trips to the holy cities of Mecca and Medina, whether for smaller
‘Umrah visits, or as part of the annual Hajj pilgrimage. Costing students
a mere 35 Egyptian pounds, these trips were immensely successful, allow-
ing up to 100,000 students, male and female, to visit Saudi Arabia during
the mid-to-late 1970s, according to one estimate.90 At a time when Saudi
Arabia was expanding its regional influence, politically and economically,
the effects of the cultural component that resulted from the interaction
between impressionable Egyptian youth and established scholars trained
Islam on Campus 133
in the Wahhabi tradition were rather considerable. Egyptian university

students were attracted to the pure and uncompromised interpretation
of their faith that they encountered in the holy cities, and attempted to
incorporate some of these teachings in their own practices. This yielded
the suspicious view of Sufism as a deviation from Islam, and the hostility
toward music, film, and other cultural forms for which Egypt had been
known.
Along with these brief but momentous trips, students were also in-
fluenced by the boom in book production coming from the Gulf. Upon
returning home from the pilgrimage, students often discovered crates of
books that had been shipped to them, free of charge, by their hosts in Saudi
Arabia. Often focusing on matters of ritual practices and the interpretation
of law, these texts, from groups like Ansar al-Sunna al-Muhammadiyya
and al-Dar al-Salafiyya, made their way into the hands of many students,
through the library of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, as well as the weekly book
fairs.91 These were typically held out in the open on the university grounds,
and quickly became one of the most successful programs sponsored by
the Islamic movement. Student leaders acquired Islamic books from pub-
lishers across Cairo and Alexandria, and offered them to their peers at
discounted rates. This spurred an intellectualized campus culture that re-
volved around religious topics and provided a common frame of reference
for the discourse of the student movement. As an added service to their
fellow students, leaders also provided academic textbooks for a variety of
courses at heavily subsidized prices. They even obtained permission from
professors to photocopy their most important works to provide to the stu-
dent body, a large percentage of whom could not otherwise afford to pur-
chase textbooks.92
At a time when retail markets had not kept up with changing fashion
trends among the youth, student vendors took pride in their ability to
offer modest dress to female students. The Islamic headscarf and modern
forms of traditional dress became widespread among the female student
population. This initiative was consistent with the emphasis on outward
appearances among the leadership of the Islamic movement. Female stu-
dents also maintained regular study circles held in parallel with those of
male students, and hosted female guest lecturers, like Zainab al-Ghazali.
Another major project lauded by the Student Union was the establishment
of segregated public transportation for female students. While this was
occasionally billed as an issue of safety—providing female students with
a secure means of traveling through the city without risk of harassment or
attack—it was also part of the growing effort to enforce public morality by
decreasing interaction between male and female students. Badr described
the program as “highly successful,” noting that it was particularly impor-
tant at the Medical College at Cairo University, whose students often had
to study long hours.93
In all, the religious and cultural activities made up the bulk of
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s program. From its humble beginnings conven-
ing for obligatory prayers in the tiny college prayer room, it demonstrated
great maturation as its lectures and camps witnessed thousands of eager
youth clamoring to interact with their peers and learn from the estab-
lished scholars of the day. Its activities soon spread beyond the univer-
sity, epitomized in the biannual celebration of Islamic holiday by holding
religious services out in the open, as per Islamic custom. By 1981, the
last of these ‘eid prayers permitted by Sadat brought over half a million
congregants, young and old alike, to the ‘Abidin Square in Cairo and to
the Alexandria Stadium.94 Additionally, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya succeeded
in generating goodwill among students and society at large by engaging
in social services, such as providing volunteer medical care, handing out
toys to children during the holidays, and organizing athletic clubs and
tournaments. But while the expanding religious and cultural offerings of
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya reflected a group that had matured over the course
of several years, its entry into political activism provides a more precise
measure of its evolution.
Taking a Stand
During the formative years of the Islamic student movement, religiously
oriented students rarely took an interest in politics. In this sense, the stu-
dents who formed Shabab al-Islam were exceptional. They took an im-
mediate interest in the political issues of the day and framed them from
an Islamic perspective. On the whole, however, outright political activism
remained the domain of the leftist movement. The relationship between
the leftists and the nascent Islamic movement was tenuous at best. In
the contentious political discourse between the students of al-Gam‘iyya
al-Diniyya and their leftist peers who dominated the Student Union in
the early 1970s, the religious students were quickly shown to have been
out of their depth, even when the conversation touched upon the subject
of Islam’s role in public life.95 In the face of complex political arguments
that made use of modern historical experiences and recent intellectual
Islam on Campus 135
trends, the young Islamic activists could do little more than recite simple
religious morals.
In other instances, the Islamic groups followed the lead of the domi-
nant political forces within the student movement, and even joined in
their activities, such as the protest movement of 1972–1973, for instance,
that were led by Ahmed Abdalla.96 On broad issues with a national popu-
lar consensus, such as accountability for the 1967 defeat, readiness for a
new confrontation with Israel, and the expansion of political freedoms,
all students joined in solidarity with the leaders of the leftist opposition.
In practical terms, however, the Islamic groups, according to Abul Futuh,
“were still taking baby steps in the realm of student activism.”97 Instead,
the formative period of the Islamic movement focused purely on the mis-
sion of tarbiya, and left political discussions aside.
In addition to the external pressures that came from the rivalry with
leftist student activists, three factors can be singled out as drivers for the
politicization of the Islamic student movement. They can be categorized,
roughly, as intellectual, institutional, and social. As reading lists and sym-
posiums became more varied and sophisticated, student leaders began to
take on a more politicized outlook toward the issues of concern to them.
Rather than engaging with the old guard on matters of belief and ritual
practice, students probed them for their experiences in Islamic activism
during the pre-revolutionary era, a time when all ideological trends were
making competing claims for political authority. Moreover, the success
in Student Union elections was an inherently politicized moment in the
history of the young Islamic movement. As Za‘farani recalled, this ex-
perience put the students in the unfamiliar position of having to take
on immediate obligations within a state institution, compelling them “to
learn responsibilities and attain leadership skills,” and perhaps most im-
portant, to “know how the country works.”98
Finally, the politicizing effect of the October War on a new generation
of Egyptian youth was particularly significant within the budding Islamic
trend. As a war that was framed in Islamic terms, the debate surrounding
the role of religion in politics witnessed an immediate rejuvenation in the
aftermath of the conflict. As Egypt emerged from the war in a stronger
position and Sadat became known as the “Hero of the Crossing,” political
Islam’s popular image was changed, virtually overnight, from a public
menace that posed a threat to the regime, to offering a foundation for a
new social contract. The only remaining question was who would impose
their vision of Islam’s role in the state: the regime to society, or vice versa.
Answering that call, many student leaders underscored the empower-

ment they felt after 1973, which spurred a sahwa diniyya (religious awak-
ening) across all segments of Egyptian society, but particularly within the
student movement.99
As al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya settled into its political identity, the organi-
zation displayed a strong ability to tackle issues that were local, regional,
and global in scope. It responded to events as they occurred, even as it
also set its own agenda. In the initial stages of political activism, the stu-
dent movement focused on issues that were at the forefront of the public
discourse in Egypt. Despite the strong showing by the military in 1973,
the October War ended without the liberation of the occupied territories.
The subsequent years would witness a tense national discussion on the
strategy to capitalize on the gains of the war. By 1977, however, it had
emerged that the regime’s policy choices were diverging widely from the
preferences of the Egyptian people, especially the increasingly vocal Is-
lamic movement.
On the domestic front, zealous youth had taken to heart the message
conveyed in the course of their religious education. They believed in the
need to promote Islamic principles in public life, ranging from enforc-
ing tenets of public morality, to rooting out corruption, promoting social
justice, and enacting political reforms. According to this view, all of these
goals could be accomplished through adherence to Islamic judicial codes.
At a time when Sadat was pressing for reforms to the constitution, the Is-
lamic movement advocated a revival of the Shari‘a as the basis for govern-
ing the Egyptian state. These two issues, the liberation of lands occupied
by Israel and the implementation of the Shari‘a, became the cornerstones
of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s foreign and domestic policy agendas, as well
as at the roots of the group’s conflict with the state.
The activist strategy on political mobilization generally followed a
common formula. As they became more politically aware, students closely
monitored the issues of the day, reading newspapers and magazines, lis-
tening to radio reports, and discussing the content with their peers and
elders. Upon further deliberations among themselves, the student leader-
ship would frequently articulate its position on a given issue in the form
of a public statement or a wall magazine. These were intended to raise
public awareness on the issue, as much as they aimed to advance a par-
ticular position or response. In many instances, this initial consideration
of the issue would be followed by an open lecture or conference featuring
respected guest speakers or experts in a given area.
Islam on Campus 137
On matters that took on added significance within a broader political

context, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya would devote an entire week to events and
activities covering a specific theme. These “awareness weeks” created a
wide array of channels through which to communicate the critical nature
of a given issue, including posters, photo displays, public statements, lec-
tures, town hall meetings, and book fairs.100 Student leaders chose the
theme on the basis of its timeliness, such as the Soviet invasion of Af-
ghanistan, but were also known to have impressed upon their classmates
a number of issues that they thought were pertinent to the emerging
public discourse, such as the status of women in Islam. Other topics in-
cluded the Islamic position on Palestine, the status of Muslim minorities
around the world, and secularism and Islam.
Finally, with regard to certain issues that took on a sense of urgency, the
student movement would on occasion expand its mission beyond educa-
tion and raising awareness to include anti-state contention. Leaders wrote
letters and held meetings with regime officials and organized demonstra-
tions and sit-ins within the university. In some cases, as in the 1977 Bread
Riots, students even made a concerted decision to join in nationwide pro-
tests against the regime, taking to the streets of major cities and confront-
ing security forces. On the whole, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya shaped a unique
political culture within Egyptian universities. Gone were the radical leftist
politics of the 1960s and early 1970s. Catchy slogans, satirical articles, and
political cartoons soon became obsolete.101 They were replaced by long-
winded and serious-minded explanations of religious principles and lofty
calls for refashioning the Egyptian state on the basis of Islam.
Following Sadat’s 1976 announcement of political liberalization mea-
sures, complete with the establishment of a multiparty system, the stu-
dent movement expressed its opposition to what it perceived as an attempt
by the regime to consolidate all independent political movements under
its control. In a press release entitled “To God Is the Power, and to His
Prophet and the Believers,” al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya expressed its opposi-
tion to Sadat’s policy and to the political system in general. “Islam cannot
be established without politics, just as there cannot be politics without
religion,” it began.102 “The parties established maintain that they cannot
be built on an Islamic basis, based on the Law of the Parties, and even
those that mention the Shari‘a among their programs, it is listed as a low
priority, and to shield the people from reality.”
The emerging hard-line position against the state’s political initiatives
was due in part to Sadat’s own hostile expressions toward the aspirations of
the Islamic movement. Following his comment that “there is no politics in

religion, or religion in politics,” student leaders issued lengthy responses at-
tempting to disprove the premise of Sadat’s statement. By their own accord,
the reaction among the student population was “full of anger, rejection,
and denial.”103 Group leaders held a conference at Cairo University, attended
by more than ten thousand students, and presided over by leading scholars,
that engaged with the president’s statement, paying particular attention to
the legal justifications provided by high-ranking officials at al-Azhar. The
conference issued a statement in the form of a letter addressed to the presi-
dent, which was also sent to every major newspaper, though none chose to
run it. The unpublished letter, dated February 28, 1979, stated in part:
We begin with a specific question: is Egypt an Islamic state or a

secular state? The answer must be based on the constitution, which
states that Egypt is an Islamic state. So what does it mean for Egypt
to be an Islamic state? Is Islam only worship and slogans, fulfilled
solely in the mosques, without any relationship to organizing the
affairs of life?
The call to separate religion from politics has no basis in Islam.
It is a concept that is imported from the West. As such, the accusa-
tion that the callers to Islam in its totality and perfection are hiding
behind religion to achieve power is mistaken. It does not matter
much to us who rules . . . what matters to us is what does he rule
by, and how does he rule?104
The students carried the spirit of this message with them as they con-
tested the regime’s policies on a host of issues, such as the Personal Status
Law passed in 1979. Known popularly as “Jehan’s Law,” because it was
heavily promoted by Egypt’s first lady, Jehan al-Sadat, the law challenged
dominant social norms by granting increased marital rights to women,
while restricting practices like polygamy. Chief among the opposition to
the law was al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, which characterized it as an affront to
long-standing cultural practices that were sanctioned by Islam. They won-
dered, how Sadat (and his wife) could outlaw what God has ordained?105
The vocal protest movement was ultimately successful in repealing sev-
eral aspects of the law, especially those constricting the rights of men to
marry only one wife.106
At a time when the Islamic world was experiencing considerable tur-
moil, international issues were also at the forefront of student activism
Islam on Campus 139
in the late 1970s. Mobilization on the question of Palestine had been a

permanent fixture of the student movement since before the revolution.
However, by the time al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya became the dominant actor
within the university, the discourse was altered to reflect the student
movement’s growing religious orientation. “The position on the Zionist
entity,” as it was called, in many ways represented the classical Muslim
Brotherhood point of view, though it also took into account the changes in
the regional situation that occurred in the late 1960s and 1970s.
For instance, in formulating their response to Sadat’s peace overtures,
student activists emphasized Israel’s expansionist tendencies in the wake
of its occupation of several neighboring countries during the June 1967
War. It was also Sadat’s highly unpopular policy that spurred al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya from qualifying its traditional position on the issue, which
viewed that “there is no means to reclaim Palestine . . . except by return-
ing to God and establishing His rule in the land, and (then) declaring
jihad as the only solution for recouping the country and reclaiming dig-
nity.”107 However, by the time Sadat initiated his 1977 visit to Jerusalem
and the subsequent Camp David negotiations, a sense of urgency replaced
the traditional grand but abstract scheme for liberation for which the Is-
lamic movement had become known. After providing the textual basis
against normalization of relations with Israel, a statement by al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya condemned the president, stating in part:
If our position was based on nothing more than his contravention

of Qur’anic injunctions, that would be enough. But what of his en-
dangering of our lands, our freedom, our lives, our wealth, and
our future generations? He ignores the lessons of history and the
truths of reality.108
The students relied heavily on a 1956 ruling by al-Azhar’s Fatwa Commit-

tee which forbade making peace with Israel, calling on Sadat to recognize
the decision of this state institution, and further calling on the people of
Egypt to:
• Denounce the recognition of Israel, the peace agreement, and the nor-
malization of relations;
• Boycott Israel completely: politically, economically, culturally, and in
the media;
• Boycott any Egyptian who does not adhere to the previous decrees;
• Study the Qur’anic texts and the Prophetic traditions about the Jewish
people;
• Uphold the rights of Muslims, not only in the West Bank, Gaza, the
Golan Heights, and Sinai, but in all of Palestine.109
Student activists successfully mobilized a large segment of the univer-

sity population on the basis of such calls to action, which were accompa-
nied by large-scale activities that included campaigns in the independent
media, educational events to raise awareness, and public protests. Simi-
larly, as events in Iran led to a popular revolution that overthrew the dicta-
torial rule of Shah Muhammad Reza Pahlavi in February 1979, al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya felt compelled to comment on the situation. In a statement
entitled “Lessons from Iran,” student leaders highlighted a number of im-
portant observations from the revolution in Iran that were applicable to Is-
lamic activists in Egypt. They lauded the impact of basic Islamic precepts
on the mobilization of Iranian masses against one of the most powerful
rulers in the region. These events proved, the document argued, that Is-
lamic identity could not be suppressed by any force, and perhaps most
important, that “the nature of this religion is that . . . it is comprehensive,
for this world and the hereafter. It organizes all aspects of life, providing
for just rule, just as it provides for the maintenance of prayers.”110 More-
over, the Iranian Revolution was described as “the first dent in the wall of
secularism” and an unequivocal denunciation of “those rulers who would
sell their countries and hasten in the service of the east and the west, and
repress their people for the benefit of their patrons.”111
Statements such as these were intended to send a message to govern-
ments around the region—particularly the regime in Egypt—that the Is-
lamic movement represented a significant force in society that should be
ignored only at the peril of the ruling regimes. Sadat’s position toward
the revolution in Iran was diametrically opposed to that of al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya, deepening the divisions between the state and the student
movement. Tensions became particularly heightened over Sadat’s deci-
sion to take in the exiled shah. Unlike the issue of the revolution generally,
which was only used to educate students and inspire hope and confidence,
the specific issue of the shah’s arrival to Egypt was to mobilize thousands
of students in opposition to Sadat.
On their university grounds, students held mass protests that num-
bered in the thousands. On March 26, 1980, noon prayers were followed
by a student conference that condemned Sadat’s admission of the shah
Islam on Campus 141
into Egypt. The conference issued a statement under the heading, “The
Bloodthirsty Shah is Unwelcome,” in which it denounced a decision by
Egypt that many other countries, including the United States, refused to
make. Challenging Sadat’s rationale, the students posed the rhetorical
question, “Did the rest of the world forego humanitarianism and leave it
for Egypt?” The statement continued:
Or can we say that Egypt has become an outpost for the Ameri-
can intelligence agencies to plot their schemes while the Egyptians
become a people without principles, or morals, or feelings, in the
eyes of the Egyptian government? The government is mistaken if
this is what it thinks. The whole world will know that Muslims
reject injustice and oppression in Egypt too, and that they refuse to
host the bloodthirsty Shah, the enemy of Islam, in their country.112
A third international issue of major importance to the student move-

ment came in the form of the Soviet Union’s invasion of Afghanistan
in December 1979. As Abul Futuh later explained, the reaction to this
event was a natural extension of the Islamic movement’s feelings of “a
strong allegiance to the Islamic Ummah.”113 He elucidated further, that
“any Muslim country was, by necessity, our country, causing us to feel
solidarity with all the peoples of the Muslim world, beyond our central
issue of P
alestine.”114 In fact, in articulating its position on Afghanistan,
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya drew parallels to the occupation of Palestinian
lands, and advocated its unconditional belief in the liberation of Muslim
lands from foreign occupation. Guided by the experience of the Muslim
Brotherhood in Palestine in 1948, the youth believed that a similar effort
would be required to liberate Afghanistan.
Although they advocated a united jihad across the Muslim world, stu-
dent leaders stopped short of suggesting popular participation from the
ranks of students. Instead, they continued to hold conferences and semi-
nars on the issue, inviting the usual cadre of respected scholars, includ-
ing ‘Umar al-Tilmisani, Mustafa Mashhur, Hafez Salama, and Ahmed
al-Mahallawi, and they issued a call to the governments of the Muslim
world to take action in defense of a Muslim country that had fallen victim
to a powerful and ruthless superpower. While it had reached the height
of its power, the student movement only managed to offer “symbolic and
moral support” on the issue of Afghanistan, but its awareness campaign
in the early 1980s paved the way for the wave of volunteer fighters that
were sanctioned to travel to Afghanistan by the Egyptian government be-

ginning in 1984.115
Toward Confrontation
By 1977, the Islamic movement had solidified its control of the student
movement and had succeeded in marginalizing leftist trends within the
university. While this development probably met with Sadat’s approval, he
also appeared to understand that a popular movement united under one
ideological banner was sure to pose a challenge to his attempt to chart a
pro-Western path that included peace with Israel and economic liberal-
ization. Moreover, the Islamic credentials that he meticulously had built
for himself during the early years of his presidency were being swiftly
eroded by his refusal to follow up symbolic gestures with meaningful
policies that reflected his supposed desire to rule as “the believer presi-
dent.” Meanwhile, the Muslim Brotherhood had reorganized internally,
re-emerged onto the scene, and began to exert its influence over the stu-
dent movement, positioning itself as the alternative to a regime that was
becoming increasingly unpopular.
All of these factors combined to create a situation in which the Is-
lamic movement became the chief opposition force in Egypt in the late
1970s. Abul Futuh’s confrontation of Sadat in early 1977 marked a major
shift in the relations between the regime and the Islamic movement.
Later in the year, as Sadat traveled to Jerusalem, the hostility between the
two sides became more palatable. Public statements issued by al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya condemned Sadat in no uncertain terms, while within the
university walls, student leaders discerned a changed demeanor on the
part of administrators who had long supported and facilitated their activi-
ties. Sufi Abu Talib, in particular, had changed his tone. “He never re-
fused me a request, as head of the Student Union,” recalled Abul Futuh.
“But his dealings with us changed thereafter, as he began to obstruct our
work and place obstacles before our activities in the university.”116
These obstructions took the form of new restrictions on student ac-
tivism, from limiting al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s ability to hold conferences
and camps, to issuing new regulations and election lists for Student
Union elections. Administrators withheld resources from Islamic camps,
and even spread rumors that state security agents were going to raid the
camps and arrest the student leadership. In 1978, student leaders at ‘Ain
Shams University became the first to experience disqualification from
Islam on Campus 143
that year’s Student Union elections.117 The following year, the situation
escalated, as ten students from al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya in al-Minya Uni-
versity, including Muhieddin ‘Isa and Abul ‘Ela Madi, were arrested by
government agents and expelled from the university. Madi was serving
as the vice president of the national Student Union, so his detention sent
major shock waves across the country.
The government soon made its position toward al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya
official. In late 1979, Sadat issued Law 265, which disqualified the exist-
ing Student Unions from reelection, froze the assets and locked the of-
fices of all unions, and prohibited them from meeting.118 In at least one
instance, conditions escalated into violent confrontation between students
and security agents.119 At Alexandria, Za‘farani recalled that he saw state
security agents entering the university for the first time in a decade.120
Once again, they became a permanent fixture on the university grounds,
restricting student activity through coercion and intimidation. The same
scene was repeated in Cairo, al-Minya, and across the country.121 In 1980,
the last Islamic camps were held in Assiut during the winter holiday
and in Alexandria in the summer. Sadat ordered all student camps can-
celed thereafter. Student leaders tried in vain to soften the president’s
stance toward their movement. They wrote open letters and issued public
statements to various state officials, responding to charges by security
agents, and imploring officials to reconsider their cancelation of student
elections.122
While the student movement, led by al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, bore the
brunt of the regime’s repressive measures, these developments occurred
within the larger context of confrontation between the state and an in-
creasingly diverse Islamic movement. The violence that marked the activi-
ties of underground groups like Shukri Mustafa’s Gama‘at al-Muslimin
(better known as al-Takfir wal-Higra) left a deep impression on Sadat.
The group’s 1977 abduction and murder of former Awqaf Minister Mu-
hammad al-Dhahabi coincided with the beginning of Sadat’s clampdown
on student activism. Moreover, Tilmisani’s famous 1979 confrontation of
Sadat on national television had shone a light on the Muslim Brother-
hood’s deep frustrations with the regime, while also exposing Sadat as
an unsettled and increasingly paranoid ruler. International consider-
ations also played a role. Attempting to balance his alliance with the West,
which had become rooted in the tenuous peace with Israel, Sadat became
concerned with the growing tide of Islamic activism as a threat to estab-
lished regimes, especially in light of the revolution in Iran. Students in
Egypt were accused of being “Khomeiniites” who wanted to overthrow

the government.123
In an April 1979 speech, Sadat alleged that “[w]e are building Egypt
with our own hands, and with our freedom. No one has power over us. . . .
This is nonsense. For two years, they entered the elections and every-
one is talking about what they are doing. The situation is dangerous. . . .
The youth, unfortunately, are being pushed from the outside.”124 Later
that same year, in what was to be the last stand of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya
within the Student Union, Ahmed ‘Umar ran a spirited campaign in the
election for president of the Cairo University Student Union. His oppo-
nent was handpicked by the regime. ‘Umar had already served as the vice
president of the Medical College Student Union and had considerable sup-
port from across the student population. However, when the votes were
tallied, the election resulted in a tie, with 113 votes apiece. According to
‘Umar, the election was decided by the drawing of lots, leading to the vic-
tory of the government candidate.125
Though it may have ended by chance, all indications pointed to the
loss of the Islamic movement’s status within the official avenues that had
been afforded it for the better part of the decade. According to Badr’s ac-
count, interference by state security agents ensured ‘Umar’s defeat and
solidified the exclusion of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya from any further par-
ticipation in the Student Union.126 In fact, the transition of the Islamic
movement occurred as a result of both external as well as internal factors.
On the one hand, the regime’s determination to reverse the gains made
by the Islamic youth movement forced student leaders to seek alternative
modes of activism, often by disengaging from their long-standing interac-
tion with state figures and institutions. On the other hand, the movement
had already forged extensive links with the Muslim Brotherhood and had
begun to merge many of its activities with those of the elder opposition
group.
While these two developments appeared to go hand in hand, they
were also furthered by the appearance of divisions within the ranks of
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya. In what could be described as a geographic fault
line, groups within the universities of upper Egypt, especially those in
Assiut and al-Minya, exhibited a more conservative outlook, one that ex-
pressed misgivings about the Islamic modernist mission of the Muslim
Brotherhood, and sought to chart a more independent path. Leaders of
these groups, including Karam Zuhdi in al-Minya and Nagih Ibrahim
in Assiut, were successful in retaining sole use of the name “al-Gama‘a
Islam on Campus 145
al-Islamiyya” in the early 1980s, and distinguished it from its previous

incarnation by taking it underground and infusing its activist program
with a militant component, a phenomenon that has been examined
elsewhere.127
Ultimately, however, the student movement of the 1970s was success-
ful in cultivating an outlook that would prove critical for the continuation
of Islamic activism in a new era. Its leaders fashioned a distinct ideologi-
cal orientation that was shaped by a combination of a preexisting program
delivered by classical texts and the teachings of an elder class of scholars,
as well as their own cultural, socioeconomic, and political upbringing and
experiences. The tarbiya phase of the youth movement had proved im-
mensely successful, impacting the lives of tens of thousands of Egyptian
youth, and providing them with a religious grounding that would anchor
a common frame of reference for years.
While the movement’s endeavors into political activism may not have
yielded tangible results from a policy perspective, they nonetheless con-
ditioned an entire generation in working through existing institutions,
making precise claims, and doing so while framing them in an Islamic
tone. Za‘farani’s statement that the Student Union experience taught the
Islamic movement “how the country works” is of immense significance
as one examines the youth movement’s graduation from the university
level and entry into the professional world. Madi claimed that Sadat’s de-
cision to combat the Islamic movement within the universities had the
unintended consequence of transforming a student-led movement into
a popular movement that quickly spread throughout society.128 However,
the argument could just as easily be made that, upon reaching maturity,
and with most of its leaders having entered a new phase in their lives,
the student movement had no other logical direction to take but to evolve
beyond the realm of the university. Building upon its past successes, it
would seek out other institutions, whether professional syndicates or the
People’s Assembly, with which to engage. It would also look to combine its
efforts with those of another force, whose spirit had long hovered over the
education and activism of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya—a force whose name
had been at one point in time synonymous with the Islamic movement.
5
The Young and the Old
In August 1979, ‘Umar al-Tilmisani, the general guide of the Muslim

Brotherhood, was called into the office of Mansour Hasan, the minister of
culture and information. Hasan beseeched Tilmisani to attend an upcom-
ing event hosted by Anwar al-Sadat in the port town of Ismailia in com-
memoration of the establishment of the National Democratic Party. Upon
Hasan’s insistence, Tilmisani agreed to attend, though the Muslim Broth-
erhood and the Sadat regime had been at odds over recent state policies
and Sadat’s increasingly authoritarian behavior. The rift had deepened
earlier that year with the conclusion of Egypt’s peace treaty with Israel, a
move strongly condemned by the Muslim Brotherhood and opposed by
the majority of Egyptians.
Tilmisani arrived at the meeting hall, where he promptly took a seat
in the back row. However, event organizers ushered him to a seat in the
front row, directly opposite the podium where Sadat would be delivering
his remarks. Tilmisani thanked the officials for that honor, and became
optimistic that the gesture augured well for a new understanding be-
tween the Muslim Brotherhood and the regime.1 The event, which would
be televised nationally and featured an audience of prominent political
and business leaders, provided an ideal backdrop for a clean slate in the
strained relations between Sadat and the most vocal opposition move-
ment in Egypt.
Instead, it was soon revealed that the entire scene was orchestrated as
a full frontal propaganda assault on the Muslim Brotherhood. During his
impassioned speech, Sadat recited a litany of charges against the Muslim
Brotherhood generally and Tilmisani in particular. They were accused
of sabotaging government policies, collaborating with Egypt’s enemies,
inciting Egyptian youth, and enflaming sectarian tensions. The elderly
The Young and the Old 147
Tilmisani was seated front and center, to be scolded like a schoolboy before
the headmaster while the entire nation watched. “These words require a
response,” Tilmisani solemnly told the president. “When I finish what
I have to say, respond as you wish,” Sadat retorted, before re-launching
into his tirade without missing a beat. He concluded each point emphati-
cally, rhetorically asking, “Isn’t that right, ‘Umar?” addressing Tilmisani
without any regard for his age or standing.
When the president finally concluded his remarks, Tilmisani rose to
his feet. Perhaps thinking he was about to offer his sincere apologies to
Sadat, the organizers rushed a microphone into his hands. To their sur-
prise, Tilmisani took the opportunity to show the world “that there is one
among those in Egypt who would tell the tyrant, ‘you have committed
outrages and transgressed.’”2 Tilmisani took his time in responding to
the accusations leveled against the Muslim Brotherhood, concluding with
the following words:
If anyone but you had made these accusations, I would have lodged
my complaint to you. But when it is you, Muhammad Anwar al-
Sadat, who is behind them, then I lodge my complaint with the
wisest and fairest of judges. You have injured me so greatly.3
Sadat was stunned by this response by Tilmisani. He appeared particu-

larly disturbed by the challenge to his personal piety. As his lips trem-
bled, Sadat backtracked, “I did not intend to offend al-Ustadh ‘Umar or
the Muslim Brotherhood. Now withdraw your complaint!” Tilmisani re-
sponded, matter-of-factly, that “it has gone to the hands of one from whom
I cannot retrieve it.” With those words, the meeting was adjourned and
Sadat once again came away from a carefully staged attempt to rehabili-
tate his image, only having done further damage to it. 4
Indeed, as early as 1977, tensions between Sadat and the Islamic move-
ment had become increasingly heightened. As his policy agenda became
more apparent, from the economic liberalization measures to the pursuit
of a separate peace with Israel, Sadat engendered a strong force of popular
opposition. His handling of three major incidents that year only more
deeply entrenched national sentiments against him. Sadat dismissed the
Bread Riots—the large-scale protests against his economic policies—as
the “uprising of the thieves.” The fierce response by the state security
apparatus to the wave of attacks and kidnappings by al-Takfir wal-Higra
was deemed excessive and disproportionate by the mainstream Islamic
movement, even as its leaders denounced the actions of the outlaw group.
Finally, Sadat’s trip to Jerusalem later that year broke a decades-long taboo
by implicitly recognizing Zionist claims to the holy land. As he had not ad-
equately prepared Egyptians for this dramatic break from long-standing
policy, the move earned near universal condemnation, especially from the
Muslim Brotherhood.
By the middle of 1979, when the widely publicized confrontation be-
tween Sadat and Tilmisani occurred, several other developments had con-
tributed to the growing mistrust between the regime and the Muslim
Brotherhood. In addition to the peace treaty with Israel, the response to the
Iranian Revolution generated deep-seated hostility. The Muslim Brother-
hood’s perceived endorsement of the developments in Iran was viewed by
Sadat as an ominous message that his own power would be threatened
by a similar revolutionary force driven by religious fervor. Meanwhile, as
Sadat invited Mohammad Reza Shah to take refuge in Egypt, the unilat-
eral decision was considered an affront to the nation and was denounced
in popular protests. Furthermore, the spread of civil unrest, motivated by
sectarian divisions, in Cairo and upper Egypt, was also a source of con-
sternation for Sadat, who accused the Islamic movement of deliberately
attempting to destabilize his regime.
These events stood at the foreground of developments in Egypt
during the late 1970s, resulting in a more deeply entrenched authoritar-
ian regime and a more vocal and obstinate opposition movement. On a
more fundamental level, though, it was a societal transformation, at work
since the early part of the decade, which yielded the political stalemate
that marked the abrupt end to the Sadat era in late 1981. Specifically, the
successful reconstitution of the Muslim Brotherhood, a process that could
not have been achieved without the active incorporation of the Islamic
student movement, would come to define a new era of popular religious
activism in Egypt.
This chapter charts the convergence of two major social forces: the
Muslim Brotherhood, the traditional head of the Islamic movement, re-
cently reestablished by the surviving group elders and brought under
the leadership of Tilmisani; and the vibrant youth movement whose
leadership comprised the religious contingent of students representing
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya within Egypt’s colleges and universities. As they
coalesced into a unified force for Islamic activism, these groups success-
fully preserved the legacy of the Muslim Brotherhood while also charting
a course for the movement’s future role in Egyptian society. Given the
immediate and long-term implications of this development, the examina-

tion of its multiple components is essential to any understanding of the
evolution of the Islamic movement.
Just as in the early 1970s, the return of the Muslim Brotherhood was
far from assured, by the middle of the decade, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s de-
cision to bring its activist mission within the fold of a mother movement
was by no means inevitable. It evolved out of a convergence of ideological
visions, organizational mechanisms, and interactions with the state and
society at large. The first of these factors was the most significant, in that
it involved an intricate process of intellectual growth and discovery many
years in the making. Early in their studies, youth leaders deferred their
religious education to a class of elder scholars who guided the Islamic
student movement toward the Muslim Brotherhood’s ideological outlook.
In fact, the student leaders who later refused to merge their groups with
the Muslim Brotherhood were generally those most resistant to these in-
tellectual influences during the initial years of the movement.
In the same vein, as the organizational structure of al-Gama‘a al-
Islamiyya expanded and took on a more complex shape, it gradually came
to resemble the rigid hierarchical model for which the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s organization was known. This uniformity laid the necessary
groundwork, so that once the student leadership (and indeed, the decision
was made at the highest levels of the student movement) became com-
mitted to the notion of joining the Muslim Brotherhood, the transition
was as seamless as possible. From the point of view of key figures within
the Muslim Brotherhood, the presence of a well-defined and centralized
leadership within the student movement facilitated the recruitment of
members and the appropriation of their programs.
The third element in the establishment of a unified Islamic movement
under the Muslim Brotherhood banner encompassed the confluence of
an activist program that appealed to a common base: the wider Egyptian
society. As the mission of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya looked to expand beyond
the university setting and focused more on political issues, it became
ripe for the contribution of the Muslim Brotherhood, which was consid-
ering means through which to reintroduce its program to society after
a decades-long absence. This mutually beneficial arrangement saw to it
that the activism of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya did not necessarily have to end
with the graduation of its leaders from the university, while the Muslim
Brotherhood found a solution for the deficiency of active members by
shoring up a bright and energetic new base.
Moreover, as Sadat’s policies became more polarizing, both groups

gradually became identified as the most formidable political opposi-
tion to the regime. By the late 1970s, there was no longer any discus-
sion of whether the Islamic youth movement was operating on behalf of
the Sadat regime, or whether the regime had any control over it. Instead,
its fiercely independent and confrontational tone was reminiscent of the
Muslim Brotherhood of past eras. For its part, as the Muslim Brotherhood
was coming into its own, it discovered a venue through which to express
its frustrations with the regime, in the form of student camps and confer-
ences, while student leaders made particularly effective use of al-Da‘wa
magazine, the Muslim Brotherhood’s own medium for the promotion of
its mission.
In contrast to prior eras in the history of the Islamic movement, the
1970s were marked by fluidity in thought and action. As a result, the
beginning of the next decade witnessed the consolidation of the respec-
tive gains made by the student movement and the reconstituted Muslim
Brotherhood at the expense of a regime that had sought to cultivate these
seemingly disparate forces for its own purposes. Therefore, it was no sur-
prise when, during what would be his final speech before parliament in
September 1981, as Sadat announced a wave of mass incarcerations, he
lamented that “the Muslim Brotherhood is al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya is the Muslim Brotherhood.”5 To the dismay of the
regime, it appeared that through the combined efforts of an elder gen-
eration of Islamic figures and a new generation of student activists, the
Muslim Brotherhood was set to resume its place as the leading opposition
movement in Egypt.
From One Movement to Many

Judging by the intellectual production of the Islamic movement, the
1970s were not a particularly fruitful period. The two decades of politi-
cal repression that preceded it ensured that the scholarly class of Islamic
activists had experienced severe restrictions on their activity, while a new
generation of Egyptian youth possessed no adequate frame of reference,
given their upbringing in the culture of Nasserism. Additionally, one of
Nasser’s main legacies was the transformation of Egypt’s educational
system, channeling the best and brightest of the nation’s youth into the
fields of medicine, engineering, and the natural sciences at the expense of
law, the social sciences, the humanities, and Islamic studies.
Nevertheless, against this backdrop emerged a buoyant climate of spir-

itual discovery and the pursuit of Islamic knowledge for which this period
became known, defying all expectations. The Sadat regime got more than
it bargained for when it cultivated an air of free expression that allowed for
the growth of an Islamic trend within the universities. And for their part,
the Muslim Brotherhood elders were astonished to discover that the spirit
of Islamic activism was alive and well, in spite of the group’s absence
from the scene. ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh, one of the original found-
ers of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya at the Cairo University College of Medicine,
recalled that “when we began Islamic activism in the university, we were
a group united only by the drive and genuine desire to work toward the
advancement of Islam, without any common intellectual or legal authority
uniting us.”6
Indeed, while it may not have produced a new class of scholars and
thinkers, this era is distinguished by the fluidity with which the student
movement interacted with a variety of distinct trends. This produced a
moment of reassessment of the broad intellectual currents within the Is-
lamic movement, and the cultivation of a new culture of activism suited
to the needs of the Islamic da‘wa in a new era of Egyptian history. As it
engaged with a wide array of personalities, texts, and groups represent-
ing various trends within the Islamic movement, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya,
which by 1973 had become the face of Islamic activism in Egypt, secured
for itself a central role in the construction of a new discourse.
In the early years of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s existence, student leaders
took pride in their organizational as well as intellectual independence.
They guarded that autonomy vigilantly. Students within the organiza-
tion were free to pursue their Islamic education as they pleased. They
studied classical texts and explored commentaries from a variety of view-
points. Abul Futuh discovered an advantage for the youth in the absence
of a dominant organization capable of bringing them under its control.
Simple missionary groups and charity associations, such as al-Gam‘iyya
al-Shar‘iyya and Ansar al-Sunna al-Muhammadiyya, lacked a defined
structure and a stringent membership policy, limiting their ability to
impact the student movement, while still allowing the new generation
to gain an added perspective and to learn from the experiences of these
groups.7 Similarly, the Muslim Brotherhood’s absence created a free and
open environment that did not impose an organizational structure, but
still afforded students access to its intellectual school, albeit through in-
direct channels.
The lack of a preexisting force to guide the student movement resulted

in an organic intellectual environment in which choices were made natu-
rally and the youth were free to adopt several approaches in the shaping
of their Islamic outlook. Among the most popular trends were the Salafi,
Jihadi, and naturally, the Muslim Brotherhood’s intellectual tradition,
better known as Ikhwani. Smaller trends, though influential nonethe-
less, included the Tablighi, Tahriri, Sufi, and those of the aforementioned
charitable associations. During the formative period, it was not uncom-
mon for a student to wade into the intellectual waters of a variety of com-
peting trends, however contradictory it would later seem. In fact, most
students would have been hard pressed to describe themselves as ulti-
mately falling into one camp, having been inspired by different elements
from some or all of the intellectual schools.
The Salafi trend of the 1970s did not have strong historical roots
within Egyptian society. Its rise was owed in large part to Muhammad
Hamid al-Faqi of Ansar al-Sunna. An Azhari sheikh who had lived and
worked in Saudi Arabia during the early twentieth century, he pub-
lished a number of influential Islamic texts that shaped the outlook of
the youth on religious practices. Abul Futuh contended that Wahhabi
thought emanating from the Saudi Salafi tradition “forced its way” into
Egypt by the aggressive posturing of a newly enriched regional power.
Hundreds of crates full of Wahhabi literature arrived free of charge to
the offices of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya throughout Egypt.8 These books
were widely distributed without much examination of their content.
They impacted a considerable number of students, despite at times
being too out of step with mainstream Islamic thought in Egypt, as in
their prohibition of the celebration of religious milestones such as the
Prophet’s birthday.
The popular ‘Umrah trips to the holy cities were another source of
indoctrination for many young Egyptians. So enamored with the thought
of learning about Islam from its source, some elected to stay behind and
pursue a course of study with prominent Saudi scholars. They often re-
turned to their universities in Egypt months later, eager to spread their
newly acquired knowledge and correct the errors of their peers. They fo-
cused on issues of outward appearances, such as the growing of beards
for men, which they argued was a requirement, and proper dress for both
men and women. Salafi students also placed a heavier emphasis on segre-
gation of the sexes, calling on officials to institute the practice throughout
the country, at all levels of education.
Similarly, the early 1970s witnessed the rise of an Islamic trend that
placed armed struggle at the forefront of its program. Inspired by the
works of Sayyid Qutb, Mawlana Mawdudi, and their followers, a signifi-
cant contingent of youth activists were filled with “a revolutionary and re-
bellious spirit” that propelled them toward seeking radical changes to the
system.9 For some, just seeing the photograph of Qutb as he clutched the
bars of his prison cell prior to his execution brought on feelings of anger,
frustration, and a desire to act.10 In the culture of mass protest that was
cultivated after the 1967 defeat, the youth did not expressly reject the use
of violence to accomplish its aims. Once again, the boundless and amor-
phous nature of the student movement lent itself to what may otherwise
have appeared to be a contradiction in terms. The movement’s program
could at once contain elements of self-contained spiritual development,
popular social activism, and support for some form of violent contention
against the state.
The jihadi trend, as it came to be termed, influenced a growing per-
centage of students who expressed solidarity with the spirit of Organi-
zation 1965’s mission, without being properly informed of the ensuing
debate within the ranks of the Islamic movement on the permissibility
of rising up against the state. “Violence, for us, was religiously justified.
The only disagreement was over the timing,” recalled Abul Futuh.11 While
some students believed that rising up against the system was a long-term
objective that required careful planning and preparation, others argued
that it was an imperative and a top priority to be pursued immediately.
This opinion grew out of a highly simplistic view of the world. All existing
institutions were corrupted and needed to be removed and replaced with
Islamic ones, on the basis of the all-encompassing system of the Shari‘a.
The restoration of the lost caliphate was central to this view, albeit in the
abstract.
By their own admission, the youth lacked any sense of history or un-
derstanding of the modern world. “As a Gama‘a Islamiyya that emerged
without inheriting a tradition or a political model, we were shortsighted
on the question of the state, its logic, and its philosophy,” said Abul Futuh.
This line of thought provided the rationale for the incident at the Tech-
nical Military Academy in 1974. Although the leadership of al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya played no role in the coup attempt, the conspirators had relied
heavily on student recruits, including some who had also participated in
Islamic programs at Cairo University. Movement leaders at the Medical
College were stunned to discover that two of their colleagues, Mustafa
Yusri and ’Usama Khalifa, were among those charged by the government
for participating in the attack on the Technical Military Academy. As head
of the Student Union, Abul Futuh was compelled to defend them and
even provided legal representation for their trial.12
However, this event caused the leadership of the Islamic student move-
ment to reevaluate its approach to a number of questions on which it had
never needed to take a definitive stance. Despite all subsequent attempts
to delineate clear boundaries for the activist mission, the jihadi strain re-
mained a consistent presence within the broader Islamic movement, es-
pecially outside major urban centers of the country, like in Assiut, where
Karam Zuhdi and Nagih Ibrahim had established an autonomous chap-
ter of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya by the early 1980s. In addition, other activ-
ists were impacted by the practice of takfir and sought isolation from a
corrupted society, creating a fundamental divide between them and the
mainstream Islamic movement on the core functions of da‘wa.13
The intellectual trend that captivated the hearts and minds of the
student movement and came to dominate al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya was
that of the Muslim Brotherhood. The Ikhwani tradition had a number
of advantages over the other trends. First, it proposed a comprehensive
vision for the Islamic movement, and did not simply focus on a narrow
set of issues, as with several of the competing approaches. Second, it had
a long-standing tradition within society, one whose presence had seeped
into a new generation despite all efforts by the previous regime to erase
it from the Egyptian collective memory. Finally, the Muslim Brotherhood
had always placed youth at the center of its message, a quality that was to
prove critical during the merger of two distinct generations in the 1970s.
From the days of Banna, the organization had valued the recruitment and
participation of Egypt’s young Muslims and had relied on them as the
engine that drove the mission toward its goals. As a result, much of the
Ikhwani curriculum was composed in the language of youth and was
fashioned in their image.
In spite of these apparent advantages, the Muslim Brotherhood faced
several obstacles in advancing its program among the new generation.
The long imprisonment of its leaders meant that there was a glaring ab-
sence of its key figures within society. For an organization that prided
itself on charismatic leadership and recruitment through top-down in-
teractions at the micro level, this placed it at a severe disadvantage. Even
once the Muslim Brotherhood’s leaders were freed, they lacked the com-
munications networks and organizational infrastructure, essential tools
for resuming their mission. They also had to overcome a sustained propa-
ganda campaign against the Muslim Brotherhood by the state press. All
of these factors had the effect of taking an intellectual project that once
stood above all others and bringing it down to the level of an increasingly
crowded marketplace of ideologies.
In their periodization of the Islamic student movement, youth lead-
ers stressed that, in the years dating until roughly 1976, “it was all one
movement,” and that there had yet to be any true distinction between
those who associated with one trend or another.14 This may have been
true in the organizational sense, as students continued to work together
under the common umbrella of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, whose dynamism
provided the opportunity for a multiplicity of viewpoints, even within the
same activity. It was not uncommon therefore, to have a student confer-
ence that represented the viewpoints of scholars ranging from Ibrahim
‘Ezzat of Jama‘at al-Tabligh, Muhammad Nasiruddin al-Albani, a Salafi
scholar, and Muhammad al-Ghazali, whose body of work had come to
represent the Ikhwani modernist school. Even official state scholars rep-
resenting al-Azhar, the preeminent center of Islamic learning in the Arab
world, such as ‘Abd al-Halim Mahmoud, would be invited to occasional
campus events.
However, just as this “period of maturity” was celebrated for its diver-
sity, it was also notable for the growing distinction between contending
intellectual viewpoints.15 The divisions appeared on the ideological plane,
as al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s leaders found themselves on the defensive,
having to take positions on a number of issues that for years had been
left to individual members to determine for themselves. In the aftermath
of the events at the Technical Military Academy, for instance, student
leaders were forced to contend with the prospect of armed insurrection
against the state developing from within their ranks, and risking the
destabilization—or worse, total dismantlement—of their movement. As
a result, an article by Yousuf al-Qaradawi on “al-Ghulu fil Takfir” (The
Excesses of Takfir) became requisite reading for members and was widely
discussed within the movement.
Though he was no longer a member of the organization, Qaradawi
represented the Muslim Brotherhood school of thought, and along with
Ghazali, he played a pivotal role in disseminating its worldview among
the youth. While a large proportion of youth leaders were captivated by the
Ikhwani outlook, some were more hesitant, moving steadily toward their
Salafi or jihadi inclinations. Coinciding with the deepening rifts within
the Islamic movement, the return of Muslim Brotherhood figures onto

the activist scene and their interactions with a number of important youth
leaders provided the intellectual markers with which to distinguish the
factions from one another.
Early Encounters
The first meeting between the new generation of Islamic activists and the
elder cadre from the Muslim Brotherhood occurred in an unceremonious
manner. As part of their professional training, the students at Cairo Uni-
versity’s College of Medicine were permitted to see patients in a wing of
Qasr al-‘Aini Hospital that housed prisoners seeking medical treatment.
Traditionally, this dispensation was granted to political prisoners repre-
senting all ideological trends except the Muslim Brotherhood, many of
whom died in Nasser’s prisons due to lack of adequate medical care. But
as part of his bid to reintegrate the Muslim Brotherhood leaders into so-
ciety, Sadat lifted this restriction upon his accession to power. As a result,
for the first time, medical personnel (including young doctors in training)
found themselves in close quarters with members of the banned organi-
zation, about whom much had been said publicly, all of it derogatory. For
Abul Futuh and his peers, the experience was a dramatic eye-opener, dis-
pelling “all the myths of terror and fear” that had been constructed by the
Nasser regime, and instead confirming the narrative put forward by his
local imam of a group “who fought and sacrificed their lives for the sake
of their da‘wa, and refused to compromise on it, even if it meant prison,
torture, and even death.”16
The students took advantage of these chance encounters, quietly dis-
cussing their activism with elders from the organization, including Fathi
Rifa‘i and Tilmisani, who spent some weeks in the medical wing prior to
their release. Rifa‘i, in particular, used the opportunity to introduce his
young physicians to the curriculum of the Muslim Brotherhood. During
one of their meetings, he managed to smuggle a handwritten copy of
“Wajibat al-Akh al-Muslim” (The Duties of the Muslim Brother), one of
Hasan al-Banna’s famous letters. The version the students received was
notable in that its content was edited for a new audience. It focused wholly
on the message of the Muslim Brotherhood, removing any references to
its organizational structure and objectives. As students proceeded to copy
and distribute the letter, Abul Futuh recalled that, for many of them, this
was their first real exposure to the writings of Banna.17
Similarly, in Alexandria, some student leaders met lower level Muslim

Brotherhood members who had managed to avoid imprisonment during
the Nasser years and who had become encouraged, following the shift
in Sadat’s policy, to engage with young activists in their communities.18
Muhammad Hussein ‘Isa was particularly influential among the youth
in Alexandria.19 In this way, the fear barrier was broken on both sides.
Though its leaders proceeded with extreme caution given the state’s
legacy of repression, the Muslim Brotherhood discerned a real opening in
the political environment, which could allow its reintegration into society
and engagement with the youth. From the perspective of student activ-
ists, these brief encounters were enough to dispel the myth depicting the
Muslim Brotherhood as a dangerous band of outlaws.
Instead, eager young minds became awed by personal stories of strug-
gle and hardship, pain and sacrifice. A new narrative was taking shape,
one that placed the Muslim Brotherhood at the heart of the Islamic move-
ment. Though it had been absent from the scene for a generation and had
yet to resume its mission in any meaningful way, its legacy was strong
enough to propel it to a position of prominence in the minds of many
student activists.20 Seizing upon this opportunity, Muslim Brotherhood
leaders continued to reconstruct the group’s image and to shore up cred-
ibility by recounting the early years of its mission and the successes en-
joyed under Banna’s leadership. They countered the prevailing narrative
of their associations with the Free Officers and the deterioration of the
Muslim Brotherhood’s relationship with Nasser. The stories of heroism
and sacrifice and the gross injustices to which the Muslim Brotherhood
had been subjected left a deep mark on impressionable young minds.
Following the release of Tilmisani and other group elders from prison,
contacts remained intermittent and quite often indirect. As internal dis-
cussions on the future of the organization had yet to yield a final decision,
Muslim Brotherhood officials hesitated to resume their public advocacy.
The lack of an organizational foundation, coupled with the basic needs of
salvaging their personal lives, and continuing fears of renewed state re-
pression should the elders be suspected of infiltrating the student move-
ment, kept most of them at arm’s length from the youth. In the course
of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s many public demonstrations, Abul Futuh re-
called seeing a Muslim Brotherhood figure, Muhammad ‘Abd al-Mu‘ti
al-Gazzar, standing at some distance from the protests and marveling at
the religiously themed banners hoisted by student leaders. During that
period, he never once approached the students or attempted to contact
them, but later told Abul Futuh that “he was amazed at what he witnessed
because he and his imprisoned colleagues imagined that once they were
released, they would not discover any religiosity or Islam, or the youth to
be this passionate.”21
Our Da‘wa
Indeed, just as the youth experienced these fleeting interactions with
former principal figures of the Islamic movement, they were also keenly
aware that their actions were being monitored from afar. This develop-
ment stimulated an open discussion within the upper echelons of leader-
ship of the student movement on the future of their mission. By 1974, as
the Muslim Brotherhood was slowly reconstituted under the leadership
of Tilmisani, Abul Futuh and his peers discussed the possibility of merg-
ing their movement with that of a more established group. They explored
three possibilities: the student movement would place itself at the hands
of the Muslim Brotherhood; the Muslim Brotherhood would fall into the
ranks of the broader Islamic movement led by the cadre of youth who
founded al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya; or the two would remain completely sep-
arate from one another.22 Elsewhere, the options were phrased slightly dif-
ferently: in addition to their work within the university, would al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya contribute to the establishment of a new group with a wider
mandate within Egyptian society, or would it join one of the many existing
groups that had created a crowded field within the Islamic movement?23
In the course of these discussions, it appeared that there existed within
the leadership of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, especially in Cairo and Alexan-
dria, a critical mass who believed in combining their mission with that of
the Muslim Brotherhood in some fashion. At this early juncture, the dis-
cussion revolved primarily around building a common intellectual proj-
ect, with little discussion of organizational coordination. The appearance
of ideological divisions within the ranks of the students, combined with
the growth of frustrations by the impetuous youth, necessitated a process
of learning from those more experienced than they were. The Muslim
Brotherhood possessed a holistic view of their activist mission, while the
students bickered over small, inconsequential matters of religious inter-
pretation. Recognizing their “youthful, zealous, and impatient” nature,
the student leaders resolved to forsake their desire for immediate change
in exchange for “the cautious, slow approach favored by the Muslim
Brotherhood toward the realization of an Islamic state.”24
The process that followed featured the steady and methodical indoctri-
nation of large segments of the student population in the curriculum of
the Muslim Brotherhood. Although other external influences continued
to play an active role, the da‘wa that had come to be defined by Banna and
carried forward by Hudaybi and Tilmisani took center stage in the discus-
sions and events of the students. Ever cautious, the student leaders, often
on the advice of their contacts within the Muslim Brotherhood, ensured
that no direct mention of the organization was ever actually made. Any
self-references to the Muslim Brotherhood within Ikhwani literature were
removed, so that Banna’s letters and speeches read like general advice
for an Islamic activist of any era, and not a member of an organization
with a particular structure and mission. This development ushered in
a steady process of the refinement of views. Overly simplistic plans for
the implementation of Islamic law were replaced by a complex vision for
the Islamization of society. Contradictions inherent in the support for a
variety of competing trends were slowly exposed and were reconciled with
a more nuanced outlook that privileged peaceful interactions over violent
confrontation and defined jihad in the context of da‘wa.
Concerns over personal religious observances were given less impor-
tance in a new prioritization that favored one’s commitment to the larger
struggle at hand than to the length of one’s beard or the shortness of one’s
pants. To be sure, the process was by no means a smooth one. Students oc-
casionally expressed their frustrations with some of the practices of elder
Muslim Brotherhood figures. Some whispered about the lack of strict ob-
servance of Salafi prayer traditions.25 Others confronted them about their
outward appearance. At times, some Muslim Brotherhood elders tried
to calmly relate their perspective to the students. But in other instances,
they avoided confrontation altogether. Abul Futuh recalled, “When they
learned that the matter of beards and outward piety would alleviate our
concerns, they grew their beards. Few of them actually opposed us on
these peripheral issues.”26
This symbiotic process allowed each side to discover the other and to
adapt to its needs and expectations accordingly, though one side certainly
had the upper hand. The knowledge, experience, and seniority of the
Muslim Brotherhood ensured that they would remain the teachers and
the students would stay true to their role. Often accused of being short-
sighted, many student leaders were convinced of the long view put forward
by the elders and began to see their mission as part of a broader project
that would expand far beyond the university, even while that provided the
base of its support and a safe haven for its activities. It was in this spirit
that the first high-level meeting between a founder of the Islamic student
movement and a key figure within the Muslim Brotherhood took place.
In 1974, following his release from prison, Kamal al-Sananiri requested
a meeting with ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh. As a high-ranking member of
the Muslim Brotherhood, having learned at the hands of Hasan al-Banna
and having been a key figure in the Secret Apparatus, Sananiri’s legend
had traveled far within the student movement. The youth had also heard
the tale of how Amina Qutb, the sister of Sayyid Qutb, pledged to marry
Sananiri after his own wife sought a divorce when she could not bear the
many years of being apart during his imprisonment. At fifty-five years old,
he had survived some of the darkest days of the Muslim Brotherhood, but
had never wavered in his commitment to its mission. And now, so soon
after he had won his freedom, Sananiri was already seeking to pick up
where he left off, spreading the da‘wa among the youth.
Abul Futuh was therefore flattered when he received the message to
meet Sananiri at a shoe store on Qasr al-‘Aini Street in Cairo. Owing to his
extreme caution, Sananiri wanted to hold the meeting away from both of
their homes and to maintain some level of secrecy around it. Sananiri was
convinced that his movements were being tracked by state security agents
and was not one to take chances. The shop was owned by a Muslim Broth-
erhood member who proceeded to bring his two special patrons pairs of
shoes to try on as they discussed the future of the Islamic movement.
Abul Futuh later stated that it was a highly sentimental meeting that he
would never forget. “His words, his spirit, and everything about him were
so new to me. . . . He would erupt with emotion as he described his ideas
and insisted on continuing and completing what the group had started.”27
From the perspective of a Muslim Brotherhood elder, the objective of
the meeting was to send a feeler to the head of the Islamic student move-
ment on the possibility of coordinating their efforts. The organization
had just resolved the internal questions about the nature of its reconstitu-
tion, and had placed authority in the hands of Tilmisani. The new general
guide oversaw the reestablishment of the long defunct Guidance Bureau
and allowed a certain degree of autonomy to figures who believed in the
importance of reorganizing the group around the young generation of ac-
tivists. As a result, Sananiri, along with Mustafa Mashhur, another elder
who had emerged from the disbanded Secret Apparatus, took the lead in
the recruitment of the youth, a process that became known as tawrith al-
da‘wa (bequeathing the call).28
For his part, Abul Futuh believed that this meeting was a testament to
the early successes enjoyed by al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, especially as its mis-
sion had obtained a quasi-official status by virtue of its participation in the
Student Union and its cordial relations with some regime officials. A second
meeting was held, this time at Sananiri’s home. This was followed by more
frequent encounters and the inclusion of additional Muslim Brotherhood
figures, including Mashhur, Ahmed Hasanain, Ahmed al-Malt, and ‘Abbas
al-Sisi, whom Abul Futuh and local student leaders met in Alexandria.29
During these meetings, Sananiri, Mashhur, and the others hoped
to gain a commitment by student leaders to orient themselves with the
Muslim Brotherhood curriculum and to incorporate it more fully into
their programs, even at the expense of the other intellectual trends. As
one youth leader observed, with increasing divisions within the student
movement, many leaders began to rely more heavily on the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s ideological positions to issue responses and suppress compet-
ing visions. The ’usul, or foundations of their arguments, were generally
rooted in the works of Banna and the speeches and articles of Tilmisani.30
The curriculum, which gradually trickled down from the leaders to
the rank-and-file members of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, consisted of the es-
sential writings of Banna, as can be seen in the 1977 publication of three
of his most famous letters under the title of Da‘watuna (Our Da‘wa).31 As
a schoolteacher by training, Banna had always oriented his message to
young Egyptians. The fact that his writings were aimed at a youth audi-
ence made them easily accessible to a new generation of student activ-
ists nearly half a century later. Stemming from these inspirational works,
Mashhur attempted a more systematic process of inculcating the Muslim
Brotherhood mission to the youth. Known for his strong and at times
overbearing personality, Mashhur made a deep impression on student
leaders. He preached to them in close quarters, spending long hours on
lessons from his own experiences and observations about student activ-
ism in a new era. He was never short of motivational words:
Those who travel along the path must trust in that path and rest
assured that it is the means to reach their goal, so that they are not
misled and lost, and so that they are not overcome with doubt and
mistrust as they proceed. . . . The path of da‘wa is worthy of that
trust, for it is the foremost path that bonds the Muslim to all as-
pects of his life and bestows him all that he owns, from life, wealth,
effort, thought, and time. His fate and future depend on it.32
Not only did Mashhur instill his eager listeners with the spiritual strength
to succeed in an increasingly adversarial environment, he also offered
practical advice to spread the da‘wa in as coherent and efficient a way
as possible.33 His lessons were soon serialized in a segment in al-Da‘wa
magazine entitled “Min Fiqh al-Da‘wa” (Understanding the Call). Mash-
hur demonstrated particular effectiveness at charting a historical course
for the transmission of the Muslim Brotherhood program through the
ages, ultimately becoming “a trust” in the hands of the new generation. In
laying out Banna’s legacy, Mashhur wrote on the importance of maintain-
ing purity in missionary activities going forward:
[al-Banna] stressed the importance of maintaining the educational

program and the readiness of the individual Muslim to assume the
doctrine, and the avoidance of the discourse of political parties;
to focus on action and avoid argumentation and discussions that
waste time and energy and stir up anger and frustration. He always
concentrated on brotherhood and strengthening the bonds of love
for the sake of God.34
With these lessons, young leaders gained a sense of belonging within the
Muslim Brotherhood’s intellectual school. As one student recalled, from
this point forward, the foundations of the da‘wa that his peers depended
on were those of the Muslim Brotherhood, as found in Banna’s writings
and the lessons of Tilmisani and Mashhur.35 Acknowledging that ideo-
logical conflicts could persist between the two generations, Abul Futuh
stated, “as for the differences between us on tangential issues of legal in-
terpretation, we gradually became convinced that the rift of disagreement
would become narrower over time.”36
Becoming a Brother
By 1975, a substantial portion of the leadership of the student movement
had committed to pursuing an activist program within the framework
put forward by Muslim Brotherhood thinkers and organizers. With only
minor misgivings, a new generation had accepted the leadership of the
elders and had initiated the process of bringing its movement under their
command. When one of the young men announced his impending mar-
riage to his colleagues, Mashhur reminded him, “Tell your wife that you
have another wife. . . . it is the da‘wa.”37 Nothing short of total devotion to

the mission would be acceptable.
In order to gain the dedication of the student movement, the educa-
tional period in which the da‘wa was “bequeathed” proved critical. Badr
recalled that the youth “were reared in the intellectual side of the Muslim
Brotherhood before the organizational structure came.”38 By the students’
own account, the progression from converging toward a common ideolog-
ical outlook to uniting under a defined organizational hierarchy occurred
rather naturally. As they moved forward in their curriculum and entered
into advanced internal discussions on collectively joining the reconsti-
tuted Muslim Brotherhood, it was no longer a question of “if” they would
become official members, but “how” the process would be carried out.39
For all involved, the situation was unique. Never before had the Muslim
Brotherhood attempted to absorb an entire preexisting movement within
its ranks. Student leaders believed that a major strength of their move-
ment was that it was self-contained. Throughout its existence, al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya had a limited mandate, but one that provided it with a degree
of freedom that few other groups could claim. It was restricted to operat-
ing within the university community, but it enjoyed a wide array of privi-
leges within it. 40 By 1975, however, many of the foundational figures of
the student movement either had already completed their studies or were
nearing graduation. There emerged a widespread realization that they
would soon be leaving their campuses, and accordingly, they sought a new
organizational model to sustain their movement. The challenges awaiting
them on the outside were perceived to be far greater than anything they
had experienced within the safe confines of the scholastic world. Only
an organization with a rich history of activism, deep roots within Egyp-
tian society, and the demonstrated courage to face the strenuous obstacles
along the way would suffice.
Through its celebrated legacy and the inroads it had made with the
student movement in the mid-1970s, the Muslim Brotherhood became
the ideal home for many students who looked to devote their lives to pro-
moting the Islamization of their society. In the course of internalizing
the Muslim Brotherhood’s curriculum, student leaders also developed
deep emotional bonds with the figures they encountered. 41 The students
were especially struck by the humility demonstrated by leading Muslim
Brotherhood figures, especially in contrast to other guests who were less
cordial and more demanding. Mashhur in particular was known to have
spent long hours with the students. “He ate what we ate. He slept where
we slept,” recalled one student leader. 42 In his capacity as the head of the
Youth and Universities Committee within the Guidance Bureau, Mash-
hur bore the responsibility of connecting with the student movement
and ensuring that they found common ground with the Muslim Brother-
hood leadership, in spite of the vast differences in age and experience.
Abul Futuh recalled that during the summer camps, Muslim Brother-
hood leaders would insist on staying overnight with the students and even
joined them in the dawn exercises, despite their advanced age. 43
Moreover, the bond that developed became one of trust and depend-
ability, as the youth could often count on the elders for help and advice
with their professional careers and the challenges of daily life, such as
balancing their studies and activism. Even Tilmisani was no stranger to
the students, making himself available to them at all hours of the day,
whether for public lectures or for private consultations with youth leaders.
They lauded him for his honest and plain-spoken style, gentle nature, and
ability to deal with those who disagreed with him. Though he was in a
vaunted position as head of the most prominent Islamic organization in
Egyptian society, students did not hesitate to confront him on matters of
religious belief and practice. Nor did he back down from the challenge.
During a debate on the permissibility of music in Islamic law, Tilmisani
stunned a crowded auditorium when he maintained that not only was
there no objection to music in Islam, as the Salafis had ruled, but that he
had taken up playing the ‘oud (Arabic lute) in his younger days. 44
During the course of internal deliberations among the leaders of
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, the costs and benefits of formalizing their group’s
relationship with the Muslim Brotherhood were weighed and discussed.
The concerns included the loss of the student movement’s independence
in thought and action, having to defer to the leadership of the elder gener-
ation, as well as the Muslim Brotherhood’s official positions on the issues.
But the movement also stood to gain from the legacy and experience of an
organization that had stood the test of time for over a half century. While
potentially stifling some of the intellectual diversity that existed among
the students, the uniformity in thought was also an asset that would
allow the student movement to evolve into an organized, coherent force
in society. Moreover, the Muslim Brotherhood could offer the structural
capacity to handle a movement that was reaching the limits of its infra-
structural development with chapters at the college and university levels,
and councils at the university and national levels. In spite of the success
enjoyed by al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya within Egyptian universities, the rest

of society, with its multiplicity of institutions, industries, and modes of
life, remained largely untapped. While necessitating an internal reorgani-
zation, joining the Muslim Brotherhood would provide an instant avenue
to propagate the call within the broader society.
Upon weighing the intellectual, emotional, and organizational fac-
tors that had come to shape the psyche of the student leadership over the
course of the previous year, it was ultimately decided by leaders across
the various universities that the time had come to enlist in the cause of
the Muslim Brotherhood’s da‘wa. Abul Futuh had maintained contact
with Sananiri, who by this point had become the officially designated re-
cruiter of the Muslim Brotherhood. 45 Abul Futuh informed Sananiri of
the students’ decision. The Muslim Brotherhood was pleased to accept its
first class of new members in many years, but placed certain restrictions
on the process.
First, Sananiri stressed secrecy as a virtue. Given the highly sensitive
nature of this development, which would be viewed with suspicion by the
state as well as dissident students not in favor of joining, student lead-
ers were instructed not to disclose their membership to their colleagues
within the universities. The Muslim Brotherhood did not want to jeop-
ardize the success that al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya enjoyed by either provok-
ing a clampdown by the regime or a schism in the ranks of the student
movement.
Second, the student leadership was told it could not join as a bloc. The
Muslim Brotherhood had never absorbed an entire organized group, and
was weary of such a possibility due to the risk of diluting its own organi-
zation. At a time when its organizational structure was in tatters and its
membership numbers paled in comparison to those it was about to take
on, the Muslim Brotherhood was especially vulnerable to a Trojan horse,
essentially allowing a foreign entity to reshape the organization from the
inside as it saw fit. Consequently, when ‘Esam al-‘Erian met with six close
friends at his home, they unanimously decided to join the Muslim Broth-
erhood, but were surprised at the response they received. Sananiri told
them, “We do not accept groups. This is a door that only one can enter at
a time.”46
Once again, the Muslim Brotherhood’s leaders chose caution over im-
mediate gains. Sananiri wanted to ensure that every new member had
come to the choice of his own volition, not as a result of peer pressure or
out of allegiance to one of the student leaders. Any hesitation or divided
loyalties would lead to factionalism and the rise of blocs within the new
cadre of Muslim Brotherhood members, something the elder leaders des-
perately wanted to avoid, especially given that the organization derived
much of its strength from its strict hierarchical structure. Abul Futuh
encountered a similar reaction, as he and his close friend and associate
Sanaa’ Abu Zayd were not allowed to join together. 47 This practice was
widespread, although al-‘Erian discovered that conditions in A lexandria
were slightly more relaxed. Those who wanted to join could do so with-
out added restrictions, but would face a probationary period before their
membership would be made official. Ibrahim al-Za‘farani and other
A lexandria leaders benefited from this policy, and some students from
Cairo even reportedly traveled to Alexandria, where joining the Muslim
Brotherhood required less stringent conditions. 48
The third major requirement involved the time-honored tradition of
administering the bay‘a, or oath of allegiance, to the general guide of the
movement. Banna established the practice soon after the Muslim Brother-
hood’s establishment, as a nod to the oath that presaged the rise of a new
caliph to power throughout the ages of Islamic history. With the aboli-
tion of the caliphate in the early twentieth century, Banna ensured that
Muslims would not be completely without the focal point of moral, social,
and spiritual authority that had sustained Islamic civilizations for thir-
teen centuries. All Muslim Brotherhood members had gone through this
rite of passage, with some of the elders having given their bay‘a to Banna
himself. Following the settlement of the succession question within the
Muslim Brotherhood, student leaders were among the first to offer their
bay‘a to Tilmisani.
While it could be interpreted as a symbolic display, the bay‘a in effect
formalized the entry of an individual into the Muslim Brotherhood and,
in the case of the student leaders, instantly transformed the relationship
dynamics between them and the elders. The reciprocal exchange of ideas
was replaced with a top-down command structure in which no one dared
question their superiors, let alone the general guide. The concept of sam‘
wa ta‘a that al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya had instituted within its own ranks
was adopted by the newest members of the Muslim Brotherhood, to great
effect—except now it was the young amirs who would listen and obey.
Part and parcel of this pronouncement of faithfulness to the Muslim
Brotherhood’s leader was an acknowledgment of the group’s authority to
reorganize new recruits as it saw fit. Staying true to the traditional struc-
ture of the organization, students were placed into ’usar (sing., ’usra), or
families, the basic unit of the Muslim Brotherhood, providing all mem-
bers with a point of contact with group elders for instructional purposes.
Once again, however, due to the circumstances surrounding the Muslim
Brotherhood’s reconstitution and recruitment of a large movement, this
required a complex process of fusing the organizational visions of the
young and the old. Abul Futuh recalled:
The truth is that when we gave our bay‘a to the Ikhwan, we did
not give bay‘a to an organization that existed in reality. Rather, we
gave bay‘a to an idea, a project, a legacy, for there was nothing that
could be called an Ikhwani “organization” in the true sense of the
word. There was only a group of individuals and historic leaders
that took the reins of the true organization that existed, and that
was al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya. 49
In other words, the Muslim Brotherhood was “an empty house that was
populated by the youth of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya.”50 Using the traditional
mode of establishing networks and forging linkages between leaders
and members, the Muslim Brotherhood reoriented its new recruits to
submit to the command of a regional official, usually from a student’s
hometown, village, or governorate. While helping to bring al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya under the hierarchy of the Muslim Brotherhood, this policy
also addressed the problem of what to do with university graduates who
were no longer active in the student movement. By 1976, graduates who
had joined the Muslim Brotherhood were instructed to contact an elder
in the organization in their hometown and to coordinate their activities
through that leader.51 A graduate returning home to Alexandria, for in-
stance, would make contact with ‘Abbas al-Sisi, who in turn would place
him in a “family” populated with other members from a particular dis-
trict or neighborhood.52
In the case of Abul Futuh and Abu Zayd, they were placed in a family
along with a university professor, ‘Abd al-Mu‘ti al-Gazzar. Mubarak ‘Abd
al-‘Azim, a science teacher who was part of an intermediary generation
of Muslim Brotherhood members who had joined during the Nasser era,
was appointed as the head of the family.53 The group met in regular study
circles for about a year, until Abul Futuh and Abu Zayd were relocated to
another family, made up of more senior Muslim Brotherhood figures, in-
cluding Mahmoud Abu Rayya, who had served as Hasan al-Banna’s secre-
tary and was placed in charge of the Muslim Brotherhood in Cairo. Given
his lofty status within the student movement, it was natural that Abul
Futuh would climb the ladder more quickly than many of his peers, and
would become close to the center of decision making within the Muslim
Brotherhood.
Just as the shape of student activism was altered by the adoption of the
Muslim Brotherhood’s school of thought and organizational discipline,
the Muslim Brotherhood also had to adapt to a changing social and politi-
cal environment. As part of his effort to create greater outreach efforts,
Tilmisani arranged for the establishment of al-Maktab al-Siyassi (Political
Bureau) within the Guidance Bureau. The decision aimed at counterbal-
ancing the influence of the conservative faction of former Secret Appa-
ratus members like Sananiri and Mashhur. While they focused more on
internal matters of teaching new members the program of the Muslim
Brotherhood and administering its central command structure, the Po-
litical Bureau appealed to the widespread sentiments among many youth
that their mission should take on a public face, engaging with the state
and society at large. Tilmisani appointed to the bureau several figures
who represented the public activist wing of the Muslim Brotherhood, in-
cluding Salah Shadi, Farid ‘Abd al-Khaliq, ‘Abd al-Mu‘iz ‘Abd al-Sattar,
Ahmed Ra’if, and ‘Abdullah Rashwan.54
Meanwhile, Salih al-‘Ashmawi, a former member of the Muslim Broth-
erhood whom Hudaybi had expelled in the early 1950s, reconnected with
Tilmisani, offering to bring his magazine, al-Da‘wa, under the control
of the Muslim Brotherhood once again. The publication became a focal
point of the organization’s activities, beginning with the first issue of the
new edition in June 1976. In fact, the offices of al-Da‘wa on T awfiqiyya
Street in downtown Cairo served as a makeshift headquarters for the
Muslim Brotherhood’s Guidance Bureau. Edited by Tilmisani, the maga-
zine also served as a bridge between generations, as it featured reports
and commentaries by important figures like Mashhur and Gaber Rizq,
as well as student leaders like Badr Muhammad Badr and Muhammad
‘Abd al-Quddus.
Facing the Fallout

By the late 1970s, the Muslim Brotherhood had successfully absorbed
the great majority of the leadership of the student movement. In its brief
time on the scene, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya established itself as one of the
most effective student activist organizations in Egypt’s modern history,
but the strategic decision was made that the future of the Islamic move-
ment depended on its ability to transcend the student movement. While
the two appeared synonymous for a brief historical moment, in reality
one was gradually overtaking the other. As a result, student leaders like
Abul Futuh, al-‘Erian, and Za‘farani pledged themselves to the mission of
the Muslim Brotherhood and conducted their affairs within the student
movement in accordance with the agenda of the mother organization.
Moreover, the program offerings to the general student body increasingly
represented the Muslim Brotherhood perspective, with many of its lead-
ing figures featuring prominently at camps and conferences, in the hopes
of widening the recruitment pool beyond the upper echelons of the stu-
dent movement, to include the Islamic activist base.
The transformation was largely successful. Student leaders main-
tained that “the Muslim Brotherhood rescued al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya
from many problems, intellectual and organizational.”55 The rigidity of
Salafi thought, influential among the students, was narrowing the scope
of acceptable positions on a number of doctrinal issues. Meanwhile, the
jihadi tendency was also pervasive among some segments of youth who
were frustrated and disenchanted with the growing engagement with the
political system. For those who chose to adopt it, the Muslim Brother-
hood’s program addressed all of these competing trends and offered a
more promising and comprehensive outlook for the future. Badr charac-
terized the difference in the student movement after many of its leaders
joined the Muslim Brotherhood as one of accountability. Leaders could
no longer simply take any position they wanted, a considerable develop-
ment since the passions of youth were often ignited over hot button issues
like the tensions between Muslims and Copts. The requirement to adhere
to an official position developed by the senior leadership of the Muslim
Brotherhood often restrained a radical response that would otherwise
have emerged from al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya.56
However, the fact that the organizational structure and independence
of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya remained fully intact, even after a number of
its leaders joined the Muslim Brotherhood, meant that internal conflicts
were inevitable. Abul Futuh and most of his peers had resolved to main-
tain an air of total secrecy about their membership in the Muslim Broth-
erhood. Those who did not join were largely unassuming, considering
only that their colleagues were sympathetic to the Ikhwani trend, while
they themselves were promoting an alternative outlook. Toward the end
of the decade, as al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya served to funnel increasingly
large numbers of students into the Muslim Brotherhood, one group was
steadily expanding and rising in prominence, while the other remained
stagnant, at least in terms of its leadership on the national stage of politi-
cal activism.
This development was not lost on the dissenting minority within the
leadership of the student movement. By 1979, quarrels and confrontations
became a frequent occurrence across many universities. In Alexandria,
for instance, during a meeting of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s leadership,
Za‘farani inadvertently let it slip that several leaders had taken the oath
of membership in the Muslim Brotherhood. Usama ‘Abd al-‘Azim, a stu-
dent leader associated with the Salafi trend, was stunned by the revela-
tion, and proceeded to publicize it widely.57 Accusations followed, with
many outsiders charging that the secret Muslim Brotherhood members
had staged a coup to take over the student movement from within. “The
best defense,” the student leaders decided, “was to go on the offensive.”58
Unapologetically, they acknowledged their affiliation with the Muslim
Brotherhood and claimed that it was their right to join any group or orga-
nization as they saw fit.
Other factions had similarly started to become more organized, with
blocs of Salafi students rallying around ‘Abd al-‘Azim, Muhammad Isma‘il,
and Ahmed Farid in Cairo and Alexandria. Elsewhere, the jihadi tendency
was gaining momentum, especially in upper Egypt, under the leadership
of Karam Zuhdi, Usama Hafiz, Nagih Ibrahim, ‘Asim ‘Abd al-Majid, and
‘Esam Darbala. As these groups consolidated their movements with like-
minded colleagues, their opposition to the mainstream leadership became
more focused and provocative. The Salafi students accused the Ikhwani
student leaders of taking liberties with Islamic practices and deviating
from core doctrinal issues. The jihadi groups, meanwhile, asserted that
the student movement had abandoned the call for struggle against a cor-
rupt and unjust regime by focusing on tangential matters and reaching
accommodation with the state.59
In this fashion, the fissures that had existed within the ranks of the stu-
dent movement during much of the late 1970s erupted into deep chasms
by the close of the decade. In some cases, as with the Salafi movement,
the Muslim Brotherhood continued to pursue dialogue, though it was fre-
quently unsuccessful and resulted only in heightening tensions. In other
instances, as with the jihadi groups, communications broke down, and
many of those who favored a militant path disappeared from the scene
entirely, emerging only during the waves of violence that swept Egypt
periodically. The Muslim Brotherhood maintained a key advantage in that

its main recruits made up the uppermost level of leadership of the student
movement, a prized asset for an organization that was looking to begin
its mission anew by building on an existing movement. Meanwhile, most
of the opposition figures from within the student movement made up the
secondary tier of leadership: some were involved in the local councils at
various chapters of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, but none of them was an amir.
In a rare instance, that of the Assiut University chapter, did an opposition
movement prove capable of taking the reins of leadership. A group led by
jihadi figures was successful in ousting an Ikhwan-affiliated amir, Usama
Sayyid Ahmed, and replacing him with one of their own.60
As the dividing lines became completely apparent, the Muslim Broth-
erhood student leaders no longer had reason to suppress their affiliation.
By 1980, the dynamic within al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya had changed con-
siderably. The Muslim Brotherhood leader was no longer introduced at
official student events as “al-da‘iya al-ustadh ‘Umar al-Tilmisani” (the
caller and teacher). Instead, he was introduced as “ustadhana, murshi-
dana, sheikhana” (our teacher, our guide, our sheikh).61 Official releases
and publications issued by al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya included the Muslim
Brotherhood’s name on their letterheads and titles.62 University campuses
became a primary hub for the distribution of al-Da‘wa. The public prayer
services organized by student leaders that attracted tens of thousands of
Egyptians during Islamic holidays featured Muslim Brotherhood ban-
ners and slogans. In short, the process of consolidation was complete. The
Muslim Brotherhood had successfully assimilated the Islamic student
movement intellectually, organizationally, and even on the level of day-
to-day activities. Though there were two competing groups still claiming
authority over the name al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, by 1983, the group affili-
ated with the Muslim Brotherhood abandoned the name altogether, to dis-
sociate itself from the militant actions of the group based in upper Egypt.
A Familiar Face
By the close of the decade, the Muslim Brotherhood had reclaimed the
mantle of leadership over mainstream Islamic activism in Egypt. Battling
tremendous odds, a movement that was once considered defunct, with
its key figures executed, imprisoned, or exiled, suddenly experienced an
unlikely resurgence. Within a few short years, the Muslim Brotherhood
had settled the question of its return, had resolved its crisis of leadership,
had forged links with the vibrant student movement, and had recruited
its leaders into its ranks. By combining its traditional structural hierarchy
with its knack for channeling the desires and aspirations of the new gen-
eration, the Muslim Brotherhood successfully cultivated a fresh organiza-
tional culture that promoted continuity when it could, but proved able to
change when necessary.
For the student movement, the developments of this period led to
mixed results. On the one hand, the early years of the movement were
marked by the spontaneous and organic nature of youth activism, genu-
ine intellectual curiosity that lent itself to the exploration of a multiplicity
of viewpoints, and a fiery spirit that sustained a mass movement of po-
litical opposition. However, even the youth figures who lived this period
acknowledged that the student movement faced greater challenges, ideo-
logical and structural, by not coming from an intellectual home within
the elder generation, or building upon a proven organizational model.
The reappearance of the Muslim Brotherhood gradually came to fill this
void, a welcome advance in the minds of many, and an unauthorized in-
trusion for some. To some extent, the Muslim Brotherhood divided an
otherwise unified movement that had found strength and harmony in its
diversity. However, it could also be argued that the elder leaders simply ex-
posed deep-seated conflicts within a young and inexperienced movement
that would have eventually come to the fore in dangerous ways.
What the student leaders gave up in independence and spontaneity was
made up for by the stability and coherence found in the Muslim Brother-
hood curriculum and structure. Though it could not abate it entirely, the
Muslim Brotherhood’s aggressive response to the rise of militancy among
some youth drastically minimized the spread of a potentially destructive
force that undermined the essence of the group’s mission to spread its
message gradually within society. The Muslim Brotherhood had spent the
better part of the previous decade articulating its response to the rise of a
strain within Islamic thought that painted all of society with the brush of
disbelief, and legitimated the use of force to oppose it. While the student
movement of the 1970s was not privy to the debate between Hudaybi and
the Qutbists as it unfolded during the latter prison years, they benefited
greatly from the resolution of this question and the Muslim Brotherhood’s
ability to define its mission in relation to the external challenges that it
faced.
The Muslim Brotherhood’s successful consolidation of the Islamic
movement was also not lost on the regime. In the span of ten years, Sadat
had gone from releasing the Muslim Brotherhood members from Nasser’s
prisons to ordering their arrests on politically motivated charges. In be-
tween, the regime’s policy toward the Islamic movement was never clearly
laid out, and appeared to waver between co-optation and containment. As
the organization formalized its reentry into society and began making
significant inroads among the student movement, Sadat took the oppor-
tunity during a meeting with Tilmisani in al-Qanatir to offer the Muslim
Brotherhood a path to legalization. The group would merely have to agree
to register as a social association with the Ministry of Social Affairs. Then
it would be granted full legal status to operate within the bounds provided
for social and charitable groups. Tilmisani promptly rejected the offer.
As a trained attorney, he understood the legal ramifications of Sadat’s
proposal. “I opposed it,” he explained, “because under the law of social
associations, the Ministry of Social Affairs has the right to dissolve any
association at any time, as well as to appoint its officials and subject it to
managerial and budgetary scrutiny.”63
Not cowed by this initial rejection, Sadat continued to apply pressure
on the Muslim Brotherhood to bring its mission in line with the agenda
of his regime. By 1979, it became increasingly apparent to the regime
that the organization had gained considerable ground, as an aide to Sadat
noted that “[the Muslim Brotherhood] renewed its focus on teaching the
young Muslim and instilling the doctrine. They did not count on clashing
with any powerful political forces. They went in search of groups in civil
society and universities until they controlled most of them.”64
In light of these gains, Sadat once again arranged to meet with the
general guide privately. This time, he offered to appoint Tilmisani to the
Shura Council, the upper chamber in the Egyptian parliament.65 Once
again, Tilmisani refused the president’s offer, explaining later that “when
I am appointed and not elected, I am accountable to whoever has ap-
pointed me.”66 After the meeting, Tilmisani sent a message to Sadat stat-
ing that were he to be appointed against his will, he would resign the post
immediately, so it would be better for the president to back down and
avoid the embarrassing scene this would create.67
Even after the heated confrontation that occurred in August of that
year, Sadat hoped to rely on the Muslim Brotherhood for assistance in
diffusing an international crisis. Though the two sides had taken dia-
metrically opposed positions on the Islamic revolution in Iran, the hos-
tage crisis that developed there provided an opportunity for them to work
hand in hand on a humanitarian issue. After early attempts to free all of
the American hostages failed, US officials reportedly appealed to Sadat

to enlist Tilmisani in the effort.68 He was asked to meet directly with
Ayatollah Khomeini and plead for the release of the hostages from a hu-
manitarian and religious perspective. Sadat agreed to the mission, and an
official from the US embassy met with Mashhur at the al-Da‘wa offices to
iron out the details. Sadat issued diplomatic passports for Tilmisani and
his personal secretary, Ibrahim Sharaf, and requested that Sadat’s trusted
advisor, Mahmoud Gami‘, accompany them on the trip. Sadat also person-
ally called Tilmisani and pressed him to do his utmost to free the hostages.
At the eleventh hour, Sadat called off the mission. He had heard a
speech by Khomeini in which the Iranian leader expressed his admiration
for the Muslim Brotherhood and claimed that he considered himself a
student of Hasan al-Banna. In his increasingly paranoid state, Sadat came
to fear that a conspiracy was at work to topple his regime with an Iranian-
style Islamic revolution led by the Muslim Brotherhood. He simply could
not afford to allow any contact or coordination between the Muslim Broth-
erhood and the Iranian revolutionaries, even if it meant backing out of a
commitment to aid the United States.
Hoping to place further limits on the Muslim Brotherhood, Sadat rec-
ognized that its power to mobilize derived from its effective communica-
tions strategy. Before it compelled students to rise up in protest against
the perceived political and social inequities of the time, the da‘wa was first
and foremost a simple educational mission, informing listeners about the
world around them and the Islamic vision for self-empowerment and the
betterment of society. To stem the growing tide of opposition to his poli-
cies, Sadat introduced Qanun al-‘Ayb (Law of Shame) in April 1980. It
established a court system to try individuals for “antisocial behavior” that
included “inciting opposition to the state’s economic, political, and social
system, and disseminating false or extremist statements that damage na-
tional unity or social peace.”69
This attempt by Sadat to silence all dissent aimed at his regime
stemmed from his heightened sensitivity to sharp critiques that appeared
within the independent press, especially in Islamic publications. Perhaps
symbolizing the consolidation of its command over the entire Islamic
movement, the Muslim Brotherhood maintained the publication most no-
torious for its verbal assault on Sadat’s policies. In what would be his final
address to parliament prior to his assassination, Sadat devoted the bulk of
his lengthy speech to dissecting the content of the August 1981 issue of
al-Da‘wa. Like a prosecutor laying out his case, Sadat meticulously recited
long passages from the magazine’s pages and offered a point by point
refutation of its arguments, though at times he was content simply to con-
demn the tone and language of the articles.
Unsurprisingly, that would be the last issue of al-Da‘wa that the
Muslim Brotherhood would ever produce in Egypt. Perhaps more omi-
nously, Sadat used the opportunity to inform a stunned nation that earlier
that morning, the Interior Ministry had conducted security raids across
the country. Agents had arrested hundreds of opposition figures from
across the political spectrum, but had placed the bulk of their energies
on capturing the senior leadership of the Muslim Brotherhood and their
counterparts from al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya. The members of these two
groups, who had come together over a common ideological vision and a
unified organization, were now reduced to a shared jail cell.
6
Constructing the Call
Throughout the course of the 1970s, there was no stronger sign of

the re-emergence of the Muslim Brotherhood as a leading social move-
ment organization than the publication of its periodical, al-Da‘wa. Be-
ginning with its inaugural issue in May 1976, not only did the monthly
magazine present the new face of the organization, it offered the leader-
ship an alternative base of operations, as the traditional Guidance Bureau
had been defunct since the early years of the Nasser period.
It will be recalled that following their release from Nasser’s prisons,
veteran leaders were split on the future of the Muslim Brotherhood. Three
camps advocated competing visions of the organization’s future structure,
ranging from a publishing house loosely affiliated with the Muslim Broth-
erhood of old to a group directly descended from its most hierarchically
rigid unit, the Secret Apparatus.1 Though the middle position represented
by ‘Umar al-Tilmisani eventually prevailed, both ends of the spectrum
achieved valuable gains during this process. For the group advancing the
former view, chief among these was the publication of a magazine that
became the Muslim Brotherhood’s most direct line to Egyptian society. In
fact, al-Da‘wa would develop into the main activism arm of the Muslim
Brotherhood in the public sphere.2 In addition to his position as general
guide, Tilmisani would also take on the titles of president and managing
editor of al-Da‘wa. A more telling indication of the magazine’s centrality
to the reconstituted Muslim Brotherhood is the fact that the group’s lead-
ers did not maintain an official headquarters for the organization, but
instead congregated at al-Da‘wa’s offices.
Though the revival of the Muslim Brotherhood in the late 1970s could
be examined in several ways, the study of al-Da‘wa provides the most il-
luminating view into the group’s reconstitution, as an organization and a
Constructing the Call 177
holder of ideas. The magazine reflects the Muslim Brotherhood’s meticu-

lous efforts to develop a more coherent, broad-based message better than
occasional speeches, brochures, posters, or slogans could. Even books
authored by leaders within the organization, referenced throughout this
study, provide only a glimpse of the internal debates that congealed on
the pages of the magazine. While al-Da‘wa was by no means the only
publication broadcasting the views of the Muslim Brotherhood during
this period, it was the most important, featuring regular contributions by
the top brass of the organization and amassing a readership that reached
100,000.3 Few independent publications could claim such a following in
Sadat’s Egypt.
This chapter builds upon the preceding discussion by demonstrating
how, as the Muslim Brotherhood consolidated its gains in the organiza-
tional sphere, it also engaged in the active construction of its image in
popular culture. 4 The “framing” process is marked by a fluidity in which
“movement leaders and members continuously revise and modify frames,
attempting to find new ways to connect with potential supporters and to
reach new audiences.”5 In the case of the Muslim Brotherhood, the frames
developed in the latter half of the 1970s took on a character markedly dif-
ferent from those of the early period of the movement.
The behavior of al-Da‘wa’s editors is best understood as a function of
the desire to rebuild the group’s legitimacy and mobilize the maximum
level of popular support. In its bid to accomplish this goal, the Muslim
Brotherhood utilized preexisting reference points recognized by the
majority of the nation’s citizens. In the Egyptian context, this entailed
a shared cultural heritage, common historical memory, and most of all,
religious identity.
A thorough examination of the Muslim Brotherhood’s chief publi-
cation reveals the conscious decisions undertaken by the leadership to
present its message to a mass audience. Contrary to assertions made
frequently by commentators on Islamic social movements, the content
of mass-circulated media was not simply a reflection of group dogma or
long-held religious doctrine. Rather, as the following discussion of the
magazine’s content demonstrates, decisions were made to fashion a spe-
cific discourse in light of contemporary social and political considerations.
In this way, the Muslim Brotherhood was no exception to the general rule
of social movements, recognizing the need to appeal to as broad an audi-
ence as possible while evading threats to its existence in the form of state
repression.
The Written Word

Publication as the means by which to develop ideas and disseminate mes-
sages was a constant feature during this turbulent period in the history of
the Islamic movement. Its importance as the primary method of commu-
nication was a relatively recent phenomenon in Islamic history, the prod-
uct of a number of factors stemming from the Muslim world’s interaction
with modernity.6 The decentralization of Islamic learning and knowledge
allowed for the emergence of competing modes of thought, often outside
traditional institutions. The role of the ‘ulama, the traditional religious
class, became greatly diminished, allowing for a surge in lay Islamic ac-
tivism with the emergence of groups such as the Muslim Brotherhood.
Technological innovations allowing for mass communication, in-
creased movement of peoples, and efficient methods of printing infor-
mation for distribution figured significantly, not only in the Islamic
movement’s means of spreading its message, but even in its conception
of itself and the world around it. The global body of Muslims, or Ummah,
took on a new meaning in the mid-twentieth century, as Muslim popula-
tions were at once divided into separate nation-states and united through
their ability to communicate their shared experience and common outlook
for the future. In a culture that had become dominated by print media,
the regular publication of books, pamphlets, newspapers, and periodicals
became the most effective tool of dispensing the organization’s platform
to the widest audience possible. Some scholars have even argued that the
development of entirely new communities was spawned through print
culture.7
The period of the 1970s in particular has been singled out as a point
of departure from traditional means of disseminating information to the
adoption of new technologies, a development that coincided with the Is-
lamic resurgence.8 This transformation resulted from a convergence of
two primary factors. On the one hand, cultural changes necessitated that
Islamic groups find new methods to reach ordinary citizens, while on the
other hand, the state’s aggressive economic opening altered the nature of
the publication industry:
In a shift that began in the Sadat era to a more market-driven pro-

duction of books and pamphlets, the most significant growth has
been in “Islamic books”—inexpensive, attractively printed texts
written in a style accessible to readers who lack the literary skills of
the educated cadres of an earlier time. Often disregarding the vocab-

ulary and grammar of formal Arabic in favor of colloquial diction,
these books are available to a mass-educated public. They command
press runs in the hundreds of thousands, while a book by Egypt’s
Nobel laureate is considered successful if it sells 5000–10,000
copies annually.9
So significant was this shift that even well-established “secularist and

leftist” writers who preceded the Islamic resurgence adapted to the new
trend, attempting to reach these segments of the Egyptian population.10
For its part, the Muslim Brotherhood had always relied on the publica-
tion of materials as a primary method of spreading its message. In ad-
dition to reviving Rashid Rida’s al-Manar publication in the name of his
organization, Hasan al-Banna’s many speeches were repeatedly printed
in collections for audiences that never saw him speak. In the years follow-
ing the Free Officers Revolution, Hasan al-Hudaybi relied on secretly dis-
tributed pamphlets to counteract the state’s onslaught against the Muslim
Brotherhood in the realm of popular opinion.11 One Western scholar
made note of the use of medieval texts by Islamic jurists and thinkers,
such as Ibn Taymiyya, resurrected in the late twentieth century by the
Muslim Brotherhood. The reprinted editions came complete with new in-
troductions by Muslim Brotherhood leaders relating old ideas to modern
times.12
By the mid-1970s, the Muslim Brotherhood was faced with the pros-
pect of reintroducing its message within a more competitive field that
featured a variety of intellectual trends. In addition to al-Da‘wa, two other
Islamic periodicals made their mark during this period. The first was
al-I‘tisam, a magazine published by al-Gam‘iyya al-Shar‘iyya, the religious
association established by Sheikh Mahmoud Khattab al-Sobki during
Egypt’s nationalist struggle following World War I. Founded by ‘Ashur,
Ahmed ‘Isa in the late 1930s, the magazine expressed the group’s Salafi
orientation, often finding common cause with Banna and the Muslim
Brotherhood.13 In 1977, Hasan ‘Ashur continued his father’s legacy, de-
veloping al-I‘tisam into a monthly publication that focused primarily on
religious life, though it paid some attention to current political events,
in particular its opposition to the Camp David Accords, which helped it
amass a large following.
In 1979, Hussein ‘Ashur, Hasan’s younger brother, founded al-Mukhtar
al-Islami, a journal characterized by its long scholarly pieces, an Islamic
Reader’s Digest, as one study suggested.14 This magazine took its inspira-
tion from the Islamic Revolution in Iran, which distinguished it from the
other Islamic monthlies, whose views on the events in Iran were more com-
plex. Appealing to a narrower segment of the educated public, al-Mukhtar
al-Islami often set the agenda of important political issues covered by the
other periodicals, though its editors also credited the larger magazines
with paving the way for its readership to expand.15
Because they covered similar subject matter and often expressed
solidarity with al-Da‘wa’s stances on the issues of the day, al-I‘tisam and
al-Mukhtar al-Islami have all been mistakenly identified as Muslim Broth-
erhood publications in various places.16 In reality, only al-Da‘wa repre-
sented the official Muslim Brotherhood position, though others may have
shared its view on some matters, going so far as to republish al-Da‘wa
pieces on occasion.
Although these three magazines have been closely linked together in
what Kepel referred to as the “Islamicist trinity,” they were by no means
the only religious publications circulating in Egypt during the latter half
of the 1970s.17 In addition to the well-established Azharite publications
such as Minbar al-Islami and al-Azhar, magazines such as al-Muslim
al-Mu‘asir and al-Tasawwuf al-Islami also generated substantial follow-
ings within the Islamic movement. Sadat himself ordered the reprinting
of the renowned Islamic modernist publication, Afghani and Abduh’s
al-‘Urwa al-Wuthqa.18 By September 1981, when the state banned all inde-
pendent press, there were over a dozen regularly appearing Islamic pub-
lications throughout Egypt, an industry that had not even existed only a
decade earlier.
Originating the Call

Leaders of the Muslim Brotherhood found no better way to announce the
group’s return than with the launch of al-Da‘wa as its official mouthpiece
in 1976. Though its editors claimed that the publication was simply the
continuation of a previous run of a periodical of the same name, the latter
edition of al-Da‘wa was hardly the same as the original. The conditions
experienced by the organization in the previous era were not conducive
to the printing of a regular communiqué to be mass-produced and sold
publicly on the market. Previous iterations of the magazine were much
shorter in length, printed in small quantities, and did not appear regu-
larly, especially at the height of Nasser’s repression.
The first head of the Secret Apparatus and the former deputy of the
Muslim Brotherhood, Salih al-‘Ashmawi, founded al-Da‘wa following
Banna’s death, as an attempt to strengthen an organization reeling from
the sudden loss of its founder and charismatic leader. The magazine
played an important part in presenting the Muslim Brotherhood’s view-
point at a time when its very existence was under threat of a government
ban and a number of court cases against its members. It also fulfilled
a secondary role, that of opposition to the leadership of Banna’s succes-
sor, Hudaybi.19 ‘Ashmawi led a faction of prominent Muslim Brotherhood
members who desired a change in the group’s position on a host of issues,
most significantly its relationship with the country’s new political leaders,
the Revolutionary Command Council. But in the end it was Hudaybi who
emerged victorious from the threat to his leadership, ousting ‘Ashmawi,
along with other important figures such as Sayyid Sabiq and Muhammad
al-Ghazali, in December 1953.
‘Ashmawi continued to publish al-Da‘wa, even after losing his affili-
ation with the Muslim Brotherhood. It covered general Islamic themes
and avoided the confrontational path with the state to which Hudaybi’s
organization appeared to be heading. In fact, ‘Ashmawi’s exile from the
group spared him entry into Nasser’s prisons once the regime outlawed
the Muslim Brotherhood and cast a wide net to apprehend most of its lead-
ers and high-ranking members.
As staffers in the latter version of al-Da‘wa would recount, ‘Ashmawi
published his magazine, even as Nasser dismantled any semblance of an
independent press in Egypt. The magazine was not distributed, however.
Because obtaining an official publishing license was a difficult ordeal,
‘Ashmawi’s sole objective at the height of Nasser’s repression was to main-
tain the license to publish, the minimum requirement of which was the
printing of five copies of any monthly publication.20 By 1956, ‘Ashmawi
had ceased to produce new issues of al-Da‘wa, and this process consisted
entirely of reprinting five copies of past issues every month. Remarkably,
this practice continued for two decades, throughout the Nasser period,
and into the Sadat years.21
With his precious publishing license in hand, and the appearance of
a fresh start for the Islamic movement, ‘Ashmawi approached Tilmisani
following the latter’s emergence as de facto leader of the reconstituted
Muslim Brotherhood. Putting his decades-old differences with Hudaybi
behind him, ‘Ashmawi placed his magazine at the service of the Muslim
Brotherhood, which Tilmisani happily accepted. In June 1976, the first
issue of the revived al-Da‘wa was published, with nearly 60,000 copies
distributed across Egypt.22 The event was deemed so monumental that
the BBC’s news service announced the re-emergence of the Muslim
Brotherhood on the basis of the printing of its magazine.23
Muslim Brotherhood leaders were quick to stress that neither ‘Ash-
mawi nor Tilmisani, who had been appointed president of the magazine,
sought permission from the Sadat government to publish the magazine.
Instead, they relied on the preexisting license as the legal basis for publish-
ing al-Da‘wa.24 Though it may have been true that Muslim Brotherhood
leaders did not request official permission, the group’s mouthpiece could
never have appeared without at least tacit approval by Sadat. The events
of 1981—only five years after the appearance of al-Da‘wa’s first issue—
would serve as a painful reminder that the state always maintained final
control over the public activities of the Islamic movement.25
While ‘Ashmawi and Tilmisani oversaw the general direction of the
magazine, it was ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Salim Jabbara, and later Gaber Rizq, who
supervised the daily functions of al-Da‘wa, from updating the layout and
choosing the topics to be covered, to enforcing deadlines and soliciting ad-
vertisements. The magazine’s offices were initially based in a small apart-
ment in the Sayyida Zainab neighborhood of Cairo, and in 1978 moved
to a more prominent location in Souq al-Tawfiqiyya, which later served
as the Muslim Brotherhood’s headquarters. According to Badr Muham-
mad Badr, a young staff writer for al-Da‘wa, there were barely half a dozen
reporters at the magazine, in addition to the editors. At a weekly meeting
of the senior editors, the important topics of the day were discussed, usu-
ally yielding assignments for the staff reporters to pursue.26 This was the
formula generally followed in the latter years of the magazine’s run, when
current events took on more of a central focus than they had in earlier edi-
tions. Staff reporters were not restricted to covering particular issue areas,
though any strengths they had were taken into account when issuing as-
signments. For instance, as one of the youngest members of the staff, Badr
was placed in charge of the regular “Youth and University News” section of
the magazine, in addition to a number of other topics on which he wrote.
The magazine’s distribution quickly rose from the 60,000 copies of
its first issue to 78,000 only seven months later. That figure appeared in
the January 1977 issue’s accounting statement.27 Badr added that some
later issues even reached 100,000 copies, with several selling out com-
pletely. The bulk of the distribution took place in Egypt, where al-Da‘wa
cost 12 piasters (written as 120 mallims in earlier issues). The rest of the
Arab world did have access to al-Da‘wa, however, with more than 10,000
issues distributed outside Egypt, according to the January 1977 audit.
In addition to revenue generated by the magazine’s sale, al-Da‘wa also
relied on advertising from both the public and private sector to sustain its
publication. As one study of al-Da‘wa’s advertising strategy showed, the
editors relied heavily on former Muslim Brotherhood members who had
become financially successful in Saudi Arabia and other Gulf countries.
In fact, “three single advertisers represented half of all advertisements
by private companies—al-Sharif plastics, al-Massara real estate company,
and a foreign car dealer specializing in Japanese imports.”28 Perhaps rep-
resenting the state’s acknowledgment of al-Da‘wa as an important publi-
cation, the National Bank of Egypt even took out full-page advertisements,
highlighting its Shari‘a-friendly financial services.29
As a consequence of its easier access to advertising revenue, al-Da‘wa
had a more attractive look and feel than any other Islamic publication in
its time. The revived al-Da‘wa, which began in June 1976, continued with
almost perfect regularity, until it was closed down by government decree
in September 1981.30 Each issue ran roughly seventy pages and contained
a variety of articles addressing current events, domestic and international
politics, social and economic affairs, and religious thought and practice.
To be sure, the Muslim Brotherhood had never before had an avenue to
reach as wide an audience as its al-Da‘wa readership would allow. As such,
the organization’s leaders would take great care to construct its message
in as lucid and accessible a way as possible.
According to the magazine’s young staffers, the Muslim Brother-
hood’s goal with al-Da‘wa was to correct its image among Egyptians, in
light of the “pressures” to which they had been subjected in years past.
Put simply, it announced, “who they were, their ideas, their da‘wa.”31 In
its opening issue, an editors’ note laid out the magazine’s mission as “re-
newing al-Da‘wa’s pact to remain the organ of an idea appealing for truth,
believing in power, and calling for justice and freedom.”32
Years later, in his memoir of the Sadat era, Tilmisani extolled the vir-
tues of a professional, independent outlet capable of providing genuine
information to its readers, a not-so-thinly veiled critique of the state-run
media, which had been highly derisive of the Muslim Brotherhood’s pub-
lication.33 At one point, the mainstream press accused Tilmisani of ex-
ploiting “his Da‘wa magazine” to inflame imams of mosques across the
country in order to threaten national unity. While Tilmisani responded
sarcastically that he was grateful for being credited with awakening the
nation’s religious establishment, he resented the description of al-Da‘wa

as his personal mouthpiece, depicting it as a collective effort by a move-
ment that took its cues from the needs and attitudes of society. If Tilmasini
needed any more proof of al-Da‘wa’s effectiveness, he would have it in
the years following Sadat’s assassination, when virtually all independent
press outlets were allowed to resume publication with the notable excep-
tion of al-Da‘wa. In fact, in 1984, the Egyptian government would pass a
law stating that a publishing license expired with the death of its owner
and could not be passed down to family members or associates. The law
was quite clearly aimed at permanently ending al-Da‘wa’s run, whose
owner, Salih al-‘Ashmawi, passed away in late 1983.34
Deconstructing the Call

Traditional studies of the Muslim Brotherhood have generally treated
the publication of al-Da‘wa in markedly similar fashion. It was often por-
trayed as the rallying point for the Muslim Brotherhood in the 1970s.
During a critical time of reassessment within the Islamic movement, a
prominent periodical was the ideal vehicle to refine the organization’s
message and rebuild its intellectual base. Furthermore, because of the
limited rights enjoyed by social movements under Sadat, the Muslim
Brotherhood seized the opportunity to publish a widely circulated maga-
zine with a relatively high degree of freedom in an effort to reclaim its
once large following.
Nonetheless, when discussing al-Da‘wa, scholars have tended to take
a narrow approach, analyzing it through the lens of traditional Western
thinking about fundamentalist movements. In a number of studies, the
only mention of al-Da‘wa’s content were references to its heavy-handed
rhetoric against Israel and the United States, especially during the period
of the Camp David negotiations. As a result of this limited focus, many ob-
servers were left with the impression that al-Da‘wa’s sole subject area (or
at best, primary subject area) was rehashing traditional Islamic perspec-
tives on foreign relations, particularly with respect to Jews.35 A number
of these analyses ascribed a particular form of radicalism to the Muslim
Brotherhood’s writings on the issue, labeling their positions anti-Semitic
diatribes capable of radicalizing the Muslim masses through strong emo-
tional rhetoric.36
Kepel’s study of al-Da‘wa was replete with such examples. The chap-
ter’s structure centered on the Muslim Brotherhood’s identification of
“the enemies of Islam” in the course of the publication of its periodical.

Likening them to the Evangelical Christian concept of the “Four Horse-
man of the Apocalypse,” Kepel listed a quartet of foes named in the maga-
zine over the course of its run. Though they appeared in many forms, he
narrowed them down to: Jews, the Crusaders, communism, and secu-
larism. As in many contemporary critiques of Islamic movements, these
terms were not placed within their historical context. Nor was there a time
frame within which the use of particular terminology occurred more fre-
quently as part of a broader discourse. The impression one was left with
upon reading such a one-dimensional analysis was that the central preoc-
cupation of the Muslim Brotherhood was with the external enemies of
Islam, existing from time immemorial, bent on the destruction of the
faithful, and for which only a strong response would suffice. Kepel wrote:
By making Jewry, the Crusade, secularism, and communism the

four horsemen of the apocalypse, al-Da‘wa demonstrates that, in
the eyes of its readers, the lands of Islam now face an apocalyptic
situation. Although all tendencies of the Islamicist movement fully
agree on this observation, they differ when it comes to identifying
the four horsemen. It is significant that the neo-Muslim Brethren
have settled on four archetypes that are generally foreign to Egyp-
tian society. This relieves them of the task of analyzing the internal
causes of the difficulties of Islam, particularly as regards the rela-
tions between the state and civil society.37
Absent from this discussion was any possibility that in writing on such
matters, al-Da‘wa journalists and editors were engaged in a rational pro-
cess of articulating their positions on a variety of issues of concern to
their audience. There was an underlying assumption of uniformity in the
course of five years of commentary on Egypt’s foreign relations. A closer
look at these articles would reveal developments over time and discernible
differences among the various commentators expressing their outlook on
these issues. In the final analysis, these articles did not exist in a vacuum.
They were part of a larger context of the Muslim Brotherhood’s fram-
ing mechanism, which tackled all of the pertinent issue areas affecting
Egyptians. In fact, when compared to those articles dealing with domes-
tic policy and social concerns, the commentaries on foreign policy were
given far less attention and space by the editors of al-Da‘wa.38 The quasi-
monthly series entitled “Israel: The Present and the Future,” emphasized
heavily in Kepel’s analysis, appeared in the final pages of al-Da‘wa’s

issues, not nearly as prominent a position as articles covering other topics
of more pressing concern.
In the few instances in which the scholarly community did not focus
solely on the anti-Western rhetoric of al-Da‘wa, it generally directed its
attention toward single-issue concerns, such as the magazine’s outlook
on women as discussed in a regular section entitled “Toward a Muslim
Home.” Once again, the bulk of these discussions tended to adhere to
the typical critique of modern Islamic movements, exhibiting little con-
cern for the context of the particular problem. In the eyes of Western
critics, the magazine’s outlook on women was no more than a reflection
of “Islam’s treatment of women” throughout history. Though at least
one author noted the role played by Zainab al-Ghazali, a long-standing
figure in the Islamic movement and editor of “Toward a Muslim Home”
in al-Da‘wa, the conclusion drawn was that the Muslim Brotherhood’s
position on women remained largely underdeveloped and redundant.39
Other studies very briefly engaged al-Da‘wa’s position on other issues,
such as its position on the Egyptian economy, which Ajami called “es-
capist polemics,” or Telhami’s aforementioned examination of the maga-
zine’s advertisements, which she described as “the most reliable indicator
of organized Islamist economic power.”40
To date, no study of the Muslim Brotherhood during this period ad-
equately addressed the issues of al-Da‘wa in a comprehensive fashion.
Rather than approach single issues from a narrow perspective, the fol-
lowing section breaks down the framing processes within the magazine
by contextualizing all the major issues covered by the editors. The under-
lying intellectual structure of al-Da‘wa, along with pragmatic consider-
ations of political limitations, audience, and opposition, often influenced
its scope and content. All of the major issue areas covered by the periodi-
cal occurred within the framework of da‘wa, a traditional Islamic concept
that was refined and updated within the pages of its namesake.
Constructing the Call

Egypt’s turbulent political climate during the mid-1970s had a visible
impact on the direction of the mainstream Muslim Brotherhood and its
reformist agenda. Seeking to develop its activist program within a rap-
idly changing society, the organization attempted to set forth its ideologi-
cal beliefs in a flexible and easily accessible manner. All of its successive
activities flowed from the articulation of the group’s positions, which took
place primarily in the pages of al-Da‘wa. As was previously discussed, a
feature of late twentieth-century Islamic activism was the shift in focus of
the callers to the faith, the du‘a, away from non-Muslims to non-practicing
Muslims, thought to be in danger of leaving the faith and contributing to
the general decline of religious life in society.
The da‘wa work for this period revolved around what it meant to prac-
tice Islam in the modern age. In this regard, the initiatives undertaken by
al-Azhar and other grand institutions across the Muslim world, intended
to maintain Islamic life in society, were perceived by many Islamic move-
ments as insufficient. Following the reconstitution of the Muslim Broth-
erhood in Egypt, da‘wa took on an innovative approach, one that was to
guide its entire program in the coming years. At the outset of its revival,
it was clear that al-Da‘wa aimed to offer readers a new interpretation of
an old concept.
The initial step in this process involved defining the Muslim Brother-
hood’s da‘wa in opposition to the alternative paths offered by the militant
fringe of the Islamic movement and the state-supported religious estab-
lishment. In echoes of Hudaybi, the very first article directed toward the
future du‘a declared, “the principles of da‘wa are united in the Qur’anic
language of peace: ‘and when the ignorant address them, they say:
Peace.’”41 The author’s deliberate use of the verse citing “the ignorant,”
or al-jahilun, was a reference to the Qutbist discourse that dominated
some segments of Egyptian society during the 1970s. While acknowl-
edging the term’s popular usage, the article offered a conciliatory ap-
proach to addressing the prevalent ignorance of Islam, using Hudaybi’s
call for “preachers, not judges,” as a guide. Continuing along the same
lines, in his inaugural editorial Tilmisani alluded to the Prophetic da‘wa
as the means by which the pagan tribes of Mecca ultimately accepted
Islam—a feat they never would have thought possible at the outset of his
mission. 42
Another writer in the pages of al-Da‘wa, Ahmed Gad, offered a scath-
ing critique of the traditional conception of the term as practiced by reli-
gious elites functioning under the state. By placing the blame for Islam’s
continued subordination in society squarely on the shoulders of the state’s
religious establishment, the Muslim Brotherhood sought to position its
own platform as a viable alternative to the norm. Gad wrote that “Islam’s
ordeal in this era arises from its du‘a and their adherents more than those
standing against its progress. By ‘du‘a,’ I mean those employed in the
name of religious knowledge and given formal appointments of the of-

ficial da‘wa, and they are very many.”43
In Gad’s view, the state of da‘wa in contemporary Egypt was at a his-
torical low, consisting of preachers so ineffective that even ostensibly re-
ligious individuals were unaffected by their sermonizing. The traditional
vehicles for da‘wa maintained a narrow focus on the ritualistic aspects of
the faith, leaving the needs of modern Egyptian society unfulfilled:
They discuss the steps of ablution, or they describe how to conduct

the Hajj, or even the rearing of a Muslim child, but on usury, po-
litical oppression, and other violations of the limits of God, they
are silent; it is as though these problems disappeared from their
society or that Islam had made a pact of peaceful coexistence with
them. 44
Clearly, the aim of the Muslim Brotherhood’s leaders was the construc-
tion of a new form of da‘wa, one that offered a more comprehensive vision
of an Islamic society and transcended the limits set by the state. As stated
in other articles, the organization firmly held that its activities should
remain within the bounds of peaceful dialogue, preaching only to those
who would listen. In essence, change would only come if people desired
it and pursued it willingly. There was no room in the Muslim Brother-
hood’s da‘wa for compulsion, coercion, or the use of force to achieve their
ends. This was an obvious allusion to the rising tide of extremism within
the Islamic movement, especially among the younger generation of zeal-
ous activists who aspired for immediate change. To them, Mustafa Mash-
hur urged prudence. The only way toward successfully accomplishing the
goals of the Islamic movement was to maintain a wider perspective. In
his sobering account of the arduous nature of this long-term strategy, he
contended:
The path of da‘wa is not furnished with flowers. It is long and ardu-
ous, not simple and short. It is a struggle between truth and false-
hood. It requires patience, perseverance, effort, dedication, and
sacrifice. There should be no illusions about speedy results and one
should not despair, for what is required simply is action. It is God
who chooses the time and place for results. You may not even see
them in your lifetime, but no matter, for we are judged according to
our actions, not results. 45
As a means of offsetting the obstacles with which the organization’s mis-

sion was continuously confronted, Mashhur introduced an element of
time to the discourse. He identified this time period as being a critical
historical moment in the legacy of da‘wa activity. Upon listing a number
of parallels with the formative period of Islam, he wrote, “This phase is
important and fundamental because it is the first step on the path and any
mistake or deviation in understanding or knowledge will lead to negative
results that will lead the da‘wa off its path.”46 He emphasized the impor-
tance of a pure understanding of the Islamic sources, as well as the ex-
amples of the Prophet’s companions and the latter-day Muslim leader in
the figure of the Muslim Brotherhood’s fallen founder. “This is what our
Imam, the martyr Hassan al-Banna, stressed.”
In the second stage of developing the da‘wa concept, Mashhur au-
thored a regularly appearing series entitled “The Path of Da‘wa.” After it
was determined what da‘wa was not, Mashhur set out to explain what it
was. In laying the foundation for the revived concept, it was clear that he
made a conscious effort to integrate his new conception of da‘wa into the
legacy of Islamic history:
The path of da‘wa is one. It was marched by the Prophet of God

and his Companions before and it has been marched by the du‘a
since, through faith, action, love, and brotherhood. Their call is to
faith and action followed by a unity of the hearts through love and
fraternity. The strength of conviction was met with the strength of
unity and their group became the standard bearers, whose message
and call will undoubtedly spread and emerge victorious throughout
the land. 47
The importance of maintaining historical continuity lies in the desire

for legitimacy that is often at the root of framing a social movement’s
discourse. By tracing the legacy of da‘wa activity to the formative period
of Islam, Mashhur effectively made the claim that the Muslim Brother-
hood offered the most authentic form of Islamic activism. Nonetheless,
he also cleared the path for innovation by highlighting the significant
changes over time. The concept of da‘wa was linked to the issue of civili-
zational decline. By reinstating religious consciousness and reasserting
Islamic identity throughout society, Mashhur argued that Islam could
once again emerge as a strong civilization at the forefront of human
leadership. 48
The tension between continuity and change continued as Mashhur

outlined the steps of da‘wa. According to him, “the general means of da‘wa
do not change. They have not been replaced and do not exceed these three
basic principles: Deep faith; Precise orientation; Continuous action.”49
Despite the timeless nature of these principles, Mashhur explained in
no uncertain terms the reformist goals of his platform. “Through these
means,” he wrote, “progress is made. Each step leads to a higher measure
of success: there will be the Muslim individual, the Muslim home, the
Muslim society, so that the extensive Islamic groundwork is set for the es-
tablishment of an Islamic government, which combines with others like
it to form an Islamic caliphate across the Muslim world.”50 This brief de-
scription encapsulated the grand ambitions of the Muslim Brotherhood’s
da‘wa project.
At first glance, it may appear as though Mashhur harkened back to the
golden age of the Islamic empire. A more thorough look at this proposal,
however, reveals that it was far from an anachronistic appeal to the roman-
tic sentiments of some modern-day Muslims. Rather, this was a particu-
larly significant statement because it signaled the first time in modern
Islamic history that grassroots da‘wa activity was utilized as part of a strat-
egy for eventual political reform. The history of Islamic societies featured
a pronounced gap between political authority and social m ovements—a
gap that the Muslim Brotherhood sought to bridge through its reformula-
tion of the da‘wa concept.
As the series of articles on da‘wa continued into the magazine’s later
issues, the discourse became more technical and was often responsive
to the needs of the community of callers to the faith. This rigorous pro-
cess of codifying the Muslim Brotherhood’s da‘wa project coincided with
Mashhur’s desire to rebuild a strong institutional structure on the order of
the historic Secret Apparatus. In a three-part series of articles, Mashhur
outlined what he identified as the primary phases of da‘wa: proclamation,
formation, and implementation.51 He also gave considerable attention to
what he labeled the “manners of da‘wa,” that is, the individual character-
istics that make an effective da‘i. Many articles addressed the legion of
callers directly, describing in detail the ideal candidate for the crucial task
of spreading the message. Among other things, he wrote that the individ-
ual must be:
a positive role model for the type of Islam that he preaches for in
his daily life; to have sincerity of faith in his chosen struggle so that
his message may reach the hearts of others; to think, speak, and act
in accordance with the message of da‘wa. To be versatile, dynamic,
aware of all the different traditional schools of thought and current
intellectual trends, to have a wide perspective.52
Beyond painting a portrait of the ideal type needed to carry out the mis-
sion, Mashhur also attempted to defuse the problems that arose during
the course of the movement’s development and expansion. An important
aim of these articles was to ease the mounting frustrations of the youth
regarding the popular perception within Sadat’s Egypt of the widening
contradiction between Islam’s ideal vision of society and the corrupt real-
ity surrounding Egyptians. Indirectly responding to incidents of violence,
Mashhur wrote that these frustrations may lead to errors in judgment,
but that the mission of da‘wa nonetheless maintained that people had to
be helped and that their intentions should not be questioned. He then
offered counsel to those struggling in their daily lives while attempting
to fulfill their charge. “Have patience, demonstrate resolve, and continue
to inform people,” he wrote. “Do not retaliate against the aggressors,”
Mashhur cautioned, even pointing to the example of early Islamic history,
where passive assertion of faith was the only mode of resistance recom-
mended by Muhammad. Jihad, Mashhur reminded his readers, exists in
many forms, not only giving up one’s life in battle.53
Picking up where Mashhur left off, famed Islamic scholar and former
Muslim Brotherhood member Yousuf al-Qaradawi articulated the third
stage of da‘wa development. Whereas Mashhur emphasized strength
and discipline in the ranks of the callers, Qaradawi worked toward the
refinement of their sensibilities. In an early article, he commented on
the similarities between da‘wa and jihad, calling on young followers to
go beyond jihad’s most commonly understood meaning of liberation by
force, instead urging them to liberate their minds through a better un-
derstanding of their faith.54 Qaradawi later initiated a regular series en-
titled “The Culture of the Da‘iya,” in which he described the intricacies
involved in the promotion of an Islamic way of life. Knowledge alone was
not sufficient, he argued, but a successful caller needed to know how to
synthesize knowledge and implement it in everyday situations. In fact,
beyond simply relying on religious knowledge, Qaradawi stressed to his
readers the importance of learning across vast areas, including history,
language, literature, and the sciences.55 Through these articles, Qaradawi
attempted to cultivate a da‘wa culture steeped in traditional religious
knowledge but also conversant with the contemporary language of Egyp-

tian society.
The concept of da‘wa, as it developed within the pages of the maga-
zine, set the tone for the Muslim Brotherhood’s activist program for the
coming generation. Beyond the direct impact it had on the organizational
structure, providing younger members with a sense of identity and mis-
sion, da‘wa also informed the quality of issues addressed by the group.
Even a cursory reading of al-Da‘wa’s run reveals that its editors sought a
comprehensive approach to the organization’s platform, covering a vast
array of issue areas through a unitary lens of da‘wa as the starting point.
In order to better analyze the framing mechanisms at work in the Muslim
Brotherhood’s chief publication, the plethora of issues can be organized
into four broad categories.
The first includes the relatively large number of historical pieces offer-
ing an official perspective of the Muslim Brotherhood’s formative years
and subsequent suppression. For a monthly periodical, al-Da‘wa devoted
a considerable amount of space to dated materials, reflecting a strong
desire to set the historical record straight and to frame the organization’s
contemporary activities in light of its rich experience.56 These pieces
quite often entailed a commemoration of the suffering witnessed by the
Muslim Brotherhood’s earlier generations at the hands of the state and in
other instances, recounting tales of heroism displayed by the movement
in the face of external enemies. In both cases, the goal was to establish an
abiding legitimacy among Egyptians.
A second important point of interest reflected in the magazine was
the organization’s newfound engagement with the political process, albeit
within certain limitations. For example, the question of Islamizing the
Egyptian constitution at the time of its revision under Sadat was of vital
concern to Tilmisani and others. In addition to the constitutional con-
cerns, writers in al-Da‘wa routinely addressed the policy issues of the day,
such as the influx of Western cultural products that resulted from Sadat’s
infitah, or the revisions to Egypt’s Personal Status Law, known as “Jehan’s
Law.” In publicizing its positions on matters of governance, the Muslim
Brotherhood cemented its position as the foremost opposition to the state.
The third focus of al-Da‘wa includes all issues outside the domestic
arena. Through its developed critique of the West, the Muslim Brother-
hood provided commentary on the plight of Muslim nations at the hands
of imperialism, colonialism, and internal strife. A central feature of these
articles, however, was the continuing state of war between Israel and the
Arab states. Though Egypt had led the struggle against Zionism, Sadat’s
peace initiative saw the nation’s standing plummet among neighboring
countries and earned the ire of the Islamic movement. Using Islamic
principles, Tilmisani sought credibility among the Egyptian masses in
his strident attacks on the state’s entry into the peace process.
The final category of issues is the broad category of religious life and
culture. Though this covered everything from basic religious practices
to more technical questions of applying principles of the Shari‘a within
public institutions, the significance of these pieces lay in their emphasis
on the prominent role that Islam should play in society. As the critics of
traditional da‘wa noted, the discourse on Islam was decidedly individu-
alistic in tone, ignoring the prevalent social problems for which religion
offered an effective remedy. The majority of these types of articles ad-
dressed Islam’s beneficial qualities in various aspects of public life. To-
gether, these issues make up the four broad categories in which nearly all
of the articles in al-Da‘wa can be placed.
Commemoration of Suffering
Perhaps the most atypical aspect of the Muslim Brotherhood’s publication
was its strong devotion to historically oriented pieces. Unlike most peri-
odicals, which tend to focus on current events, al-Da‘wa gave considerable
space to articles detailing the organization’s history, documenting past
experiences and reprinting the words of its fallen leaders. This is partially
explained by political circumstances. Following a total suppression of the
organization that lasted almost two decades, the Muslim Brotherhood was
eager to pounce on the first opportunity to explain its own account of the
events leading up to Nasser’s crackdown. The official version of the state
had dominated the public discourse so that a generation of Egyptians was
raised knowing no other narrative.
In the very first issue of al-Da‘wa, an article entitled “Abdel Nasser and
the Massacre of the Ikhwan” established the tone for the ensuing histori-
cal revisionism. While introducing a recently published book entitled The
Silent Speak Out, the editors laid the foundation for their historical frame:
During the past twenty-two years, the people of Egypt have not
heard or read about the Muslim Brothers except from a single, soli-
tary source, in one tone of voice, filling their ears with the crimes
of this group, its thirst for blood, desire for power, and collusion
with the British. The propaganda apparatus, with its vast resources
that turned the 1967 defeat into victory, succeeded in deceiving this
hapless population into dancing to these tunes and inflaming it
with anger.57
From the outset, it was apparent that the Muslim Brotherhood believed
that correcting the popular perception of the past was one of its most im-
portant missions in reaching out to contemporary Egyptian society. The
article revealed the organization’s relationship with Nasser, even assert-
ing that he joined the Islamic movement during his days in the military,
just prior to the coup. Following the first clash between the two, Nasser
released the Brothers from prison and personally visited their leaders and
welcomed them back into society. This action, overlooked by historians
according to the author, confirmed that all of the early accusations of sub-
version and plotting were politically motivated fabrications.
Later articles pieced together the entire history of the Islamic move-
ment, often focusing on particular time periods or highlighting impor-
tant incidents. The group’s early relationship with the monarch, touted by
some of its opponents as a sign of the Muslim Brotherhood’s elitism, was
explained as a necessary tactic toward fulfilling the larger mission of the
organization. The government’s long-standing allegation of a 1954 coup
attempt by the Secret Apparatus was addressed in detail. One article of-
fered “the full truth,” in its headline, before outlining the chain of events
that led to the ban of the Muslim Brotherhood by Nasser.58 At the time,
much was made of the weapons cache discovered by authorities, which
the group easily dismissed as a manipulation of the facts by Nasser’s
enforcers. In fact, they maintained, it was the Egyptian president who
personally provided the Muslim Brothers with weapons in their struggle
against the British in the Suez Canal Zone. There was never any plot (nor
was one ever shown to have existed by the authorities) to turn those weap-
ons against the state.
As for the infamous assassination attempt against Nasser in Alexan-
dria by a member of the Muslim Brotherhood, the writers in al-Da‘wa
presented a meticulous point-by-point refutation of the government’s ac-
cusation. In some instances, they offered physical evidence contradicting
the official account of the incident, namely that the bullets pulled from
the podium did not match the gun supposedly seized from the young
would-be assassin.59 Other arguments were framed from a strategic per-
spective—that the Muslim Brotherhood, as a strong supporter of the coup
that brought the Free Officers to power, stood to gain nothing by under-
mining the presidency in its early years. Resistance against foreign occu-
pation, be it the Zionist project or British colonialism, did not translate as
the strategy of choice in its tense relationship with the new government.
So important was this mission of setting the record straight for
al-Da‘wa’s editors that a new regular section addressing the particulars
of the past relationship between the Muslim Brotherhood and the state
began to appear prominently. In many ways, “The Muslim Brothers From
the Pages of Yesterday,” as it was called, sought to embarrass and expose
the Egyptian regime by revealing the extent of the interaction at all levels
of power. For the first time, Egyptians were given a firsthand account of
the development of the Islamic movement in relation to the state. Criti-
cal anti-state pamphlets and private letters from Hudaybi to Nasser were
published in full. These typically addressed specific events or points of
disagreement between the two, but at times also served as a platform for
a general critique of the regime and a restatement of the Muslim Brother-
hood’s program.
This documentation of the organization’s history served a number of
purposes. It allowed the group an opportunity to meticulously outline
its grievances against the regime, defining the diagnostic frame through
historical experience and documented facts. The Muslim Brotherhood’s
remedy for the perceived ills of Egyptian society, or the prognostic frame,
was shown to have been effective at times in the country’s recent past.
Hindsight, as it were, demonstrated the magnitude of the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s message through the directives of its founder and the experi-
ences of his early followers. And finally, the publication of poignant
accounts of the abuses suffered by members of the Muslim Brotherhood
in the past served to motivate a new generation to act on the basis of the
severe injustices of the regime and the historic sacrifices of the organiza-
tion in particular.
Commemorating the suffering of Muslim Brotherhood members was
an essential part of the magazine’s mission. Throughout al-Da‘wa’s run,
anecdotes of numerous incidents documented the campaign of repres-
sion against the organization’s members. Headlines such as “Tales of
Tortures” appeared regularly in al-Da‘wa, promising “minute-by-minute”
accounts of the traumatic abuses “from the tongues of the victims.”60
Ordinarily, these were anonymously written articles recalling the events
leading up to arrests, interrogations, torture, and at times execution of
Muslim Brotherhood activists. The editors of al-Da‘wa engaged in an
active construction of the martyrology of the organization. In some cases,

friends, associates, and family members recalled the memory of the fallen
victims, frequently surrounding them with an aura of purity, validity, and
sacrifice.
In the story of one victim, Gamal Fawzi was described as being in-
nocent of any wrongdoing. His only crime, according to his supporters,
was his conviction in the precepts of the Islamic movement as it struggled
peacefully against the regime. In a rare instance in which the victim’s
own words were printed, Fawzi described in his prison writings, prior
to his execution, the suffering he had endured at the hands of the secu-
rity services. Beginning with the raid of his home, Fawzi gave a vivid de-
scription of the soldiers entering “as though they had crossed the border
and just defeated the Israelis.” With guns pointed at him, his wife, and
his children, they ransacked the house and took him to the intelligence
agency’s headquarters to be tortured. He recalled walking past rooms
with pools of blood in them, before reaching the cell where his own blood
would be spilled. He described in great detail the cruelty of the Egyptian
interrogators as they sought information they were fully aware he did not
possess, only to continue punishing him for crimes he did not commit.61
Similar stories appeared throughout the magazine’s run. The formula
was relatively consistent: sing the praises of the individual, noting his
many virtuous qualities and accomplishments; chronicle the suffering
endured at the hands of the security services, leading him to the path of
martyrdom; and finally, castigate the regime for its violent abuses against
the organization’s members, while calling for accountability of those in-
volved at the highest levels of power. In one typical commemorative ar-
ticle, this one chronicling the life of Yousuf Tal‘at, the headlines running
across the two-page spread captured his turbulent life and tragic death:
Farouk tried to assassinate him; the British placed a bounty on his

head; He fought in Palestine and the Canal; On the gallows, he
said, “now I meet my Lord, while He is accepting of me; Oh Lord,
please forgive me and forgive he who has oppressed me; Oh Lord,
guide my people, for they do not know.”62
That the Muslim Brotherhood constructed its martyrology with a specific

purpose in mind is evident through its own explanation of this literature.
Guarding against the potential accusations of inflaming popular senti-
ments or seeking the organization’s own fame, the editors declared that
their motivations were far more pure. “For if al-Da‘wa fills a few of its
pages with the story of one of the victims of this tyranny, this is not to elicit
people’s emotions, harden their hearts against any particular person, or to
declare that the Muslim Brothers have single-handedly carried the load of
sacrifices.”63 However, the motivational framing of the Muslim Brother-
hood relies precisely on those two results of its commemoration of suffer-
ing. By emphasizing the personal sacrifices of the Muslim Brotherhood
in particular, the group hoped to swell its ranks with recruits, especially
as it competed with the emerging fringe of the Islamic movement. Fur-
thermore, by singling out the regime as being solely responsible for the
state of terror and insecurity engulfing Egyptian society, it hoped to direct
popular frustrations toward the state.
Throughout its chronicle of the Muslim Brotherhood’s historical expe-
rience, al-Da‘wa aimed to deflect criticisms against the organization that
arose from the fiery rhetoric of younger generations of Egypt’s Islamic
activists. It chose to highlight particular events in its history, such as the
group’s armed struggle against the Zionist project in Palestine and the
continued British occupation of the Suez Canal Zone, in order to dem-
onstrate the Muslim Brotherhood’s commitment to justice in the face of
oppression. In this sense, the Muslim Brotherhood represented all Egyp-
tians by leading the national struggle. This notion was developed further
as the group’s leaders portrayed the government’s assault on its members
as an attack against all Egyptians. They wrote, “all people feel the lashes
of the whip the day that the group of believers were lashed by the whip.”64
Furthermore, the Muslim Brotherhood attempted to curtail the split
within its ranks by commemorating the legacy of Sayyid Qutb as the
quintessential victim of the government’s anti-Islamist onslaught. In the
many instances in which he appeared, including one feature article on
the trials of his life, al-Da‘wa’s writers cemented Qutb’s place in the his-
tory of the Muslim Brotherhood. Chronicling his life and the abuses he
suffered, the editors established him as the single most prominent victim
of the Nasser era. Qutb suffered not for his actions, they wrote, but for his
words. He was innocent of any wrongdoing, the victim of a terrible crime
and target of a vicious campaign that sought to stifle the voice of Islam
in Egyptian society. In the most obvious sign that the Muslim Brother-
hood had not abandoned Qutb nor his contribution to the larger move-
ment, the editors of al-Da‘wa supplemented their claims that Qutb was
killed only because of his writings by regularly reprinting excerpts from
his books, especially his exegesis of Islamic scripture, In the Shade of the
Qur’an. This particular decision was the definitive signal that the “new
look” Muslim Brotherhood continued to claim Qutb, a fallen martyr, as
one of its own. In the face of rising opposition from hard-line elements
within the Islamic movement, such a strong demonstration of resistance
and sacrifice aimed to maintain the Muslim Brotherhood’s credibility and
to solidify its reputation as the foremost opposition movement to the op-
pressive Egyptian regime.
A second type of commemoration literature addressed the possibility
of seeking justice for the martyrs in the current political climate. Though
the Muslim Brotherhood rarely saw the benefit of pursuing legal action
through the Egyptian courts, al-Da‘wa published a number of articles
advocating the prosecution of regime officials involved in the torture of
Muslim Brotherhood members during the Nasser era. The appearance of
official confirmation of the Muslim Brotherhood’s claims lent more legiti-
macy to the group’s commemorative efforts and ultimate struggle against
the government. In most instances, these articles simply reiterated the
facts made public by investigators, including the use of widespread ad-
ministrative detentions, instances of torture, and sham trials. Lawyers
conducting inquiries on behalf of the Muslim Brotherhood released their
findings, which chronicled these systematic abuses, as in the Shams al-
Shinnawi civil rights case.65 In these articles, as much attention was given
to the alleged perpetrators as their victims. In one case in which a lawsuit
was filed for the death of three individuals, the editors seamlessly honored
their memory and castigated those responsible for their deaths:
The court considered the case of the martyr Muhammad Ali Abdul-
lah, the martyr Isma‘il al-Fayyumi, and the martyr Muhammad
Awad, victims fallen to the various forms of torture while in the
military prison. . . . [Men] with hardened hearts offering up blood
to their false idols. Following these severe injustices, a compelling
case was presented, with calls for the execution of those respon-
sible for torturing and killing the victims. 66
Though it is not clear from these articles whether any of these cases ended
in legal victories for the victims (other sources seem to suggest they did
not), the moral victory attained from the exposure of past abuses and the
embarrassment suffered by many former and current regime officials
were powerful enough to cement the Muslim Brotherhood’s legacy and
grant it the political and social capital it needed to proceed with its agenda.
For his part, Sadat allowed the publication to divulge its allegations
against the authorities, even as it named individuals and singled out par-
ticular officials for prosecution. In the view of the Egyptian president,
revealing the dark history of Nasser’s era indirectly paved the way for his
own cultivation of a democratic persona. Tilmisani clarified this point
further, writing, “when the Muslim Brotherhood critiques the previous
regime, it is not intended simply to embarrass and condemn certain in-
dividuals, but to learn the lessons of the past so as not to repeat them in
the future.”67 Thus, the commemoration of suffering experienced by the
previous generation of Islamic activists served as an important corner-
stone of the Muslim Brotherhood’s frame in the 1970s. It was an essential
tool of self-definition, both within the organization and in relation to the
rising tide of opposition.
Constitutional Calls
If the articles commemorating the Muslim Brotherhood’s legacy were di-
rected toward the younger generation affected by the growth of new move-
ments, then the editorials and exposés devoted to the constitution and
government policy represented the organization’s tenuous relationship
with the state. In the atmosphere of openness and pluralism that Sadat
promoted upon his assumption of the presidency, and especially ratcheted
up following the October War, the Muslim Brotherhood found an oppor-
tunity to demand its legitimate place in the political order. In the midst of
this campaign, Tilmisani took the president at his word, even when the
state’s policies contradicted the freedom called for by Sadat. “The pres-
ident declares his desire for reform,” Tilmisani wrote, “while the great
majority of the heads of governing institutions work to deliberately under-
mine his call.”68 Across the pages of al-Da‘wa, the Muslim Brotherhood’s
leadership frequently called for institutional reform beginning with the
constitution, at a time when it was undergoing a considerable facelift at
the hands of Sadat.
Having been severely restricted in previous periods, the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s engagement with the state occurred on a number of levels in the
1970s. Primarily, it focused on efforts to implement structural changes to
governing institutions. In cases where the group was not actively pursuing
these reforms by heeding Sadat’s calls for democracy, Tilmisani and other
leaders issued a sharp critique of the president’s actual governing style.
Various writers occasionally focused on particular issues concerning the
functioning of governing institutions, including the parliament, the min-

istries, and the president’s office. These policy grievances consisted of an
identification of a particular problem, placing blame on a single official or
group of officials, and proposing counter-measures.
The earliest issues of the magazine proceeded to place the Muslim
Brotherhood’s calls for Islamic governance within the broader context of
Sadat’s claims to democracy and the rule of law. Rather than reiterate
the standard position on the role of Islamic law in governance, al-Da‘wa
framed the discussion in relation to the government’s discourse of reform.
This allowed the Muslim Brotherhood’s message to resonate with its au-
dience, becoming a current feature of the public debate on the future of
Egypt. In one of the earliest articles on the matter, a writer declared, “to
realize true democratic rule, the constitution must be reformed.”69 This
editorial responded to recent restructuring moves in the parliament by
Sadat, which were not codified into law, and therefore were subject to re-
versal at any moment. The author made no mention of the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s goal to maintain a religious character to the reforms, but sought
only to reflect the interests of all Egyptians in codifying their rights.
In later issues, however, the Muslim Brotherhood expressed in no un-
certain terms its frustrations with the failure of the government to meet
its stated goals. As Sadat’s democratization efforts reached a standstill
in the late 1970s, al-Da‘wa published reports of the ever-widening gap
between the state’s lofty rhetoric and the unfortunate realities of Egyptian
society. “[The government] issues many laws from time to time intended
to organize society and provide peace and serenity. In spite of this fact,
the people live under severe harassment, preventing them from basic
security.”70 Editorials such as this claimed to expose the abuses commit-
ted by the state in defiance of its own calls for order and the rule of law.
The writer posed the ultimate question: “If the officials in charge do not
perform their duty in upholding the laws, then how can they request the
people to help them in observing the law and calling for reform when they
do not even follow their own laws?”71
By focusing on the perceived ills of Sadat’s agenda for reform, the
Muslim Brotherhood effectively juxtaposed the state’s failures with its
own alternative platform, claiming to hold the remedy for the diseases
untreated by the establishment:
If those officials believed in awakening the popular consciousness

by upholding their laws before they ask others to do so, every citizen
would feel as though they had some responsibility to themselves

and their society rather than simply out of fear of punishment.
This religion is what causes the Muslim to be in private who he is
in public. This religion is what teaches the Muslim to hold himself
accountable before holding others accountable, and how to avoid in
private what he would decry in public. This is all derived from one
thing, the conscience of the believer, the certainty in his heart that
God alone is all-knowing, holding all to account, with the power to
do what no other ruler can do.72
Subsequent writings laid out the Muslim Brotherhood’s position on the

structure and substance of the Egyptian constitution, whose role was
deemed central to the development of an Islamic society. The Egyptian
constitution underwent numerous revisions in the modern period, es-
pecially during moments of political transition and turmoil. All of these
versions, the Muslim Brotherhood leaders maintained, were short-sighted
documents aimed at political expediency, in effect laying the groundwork
for whoever happened to be aspiring toward power at the moment. What
was actually needed, they argued, was a broader framework, one that recog-
nized a source of universal values upon which to govern a Muslim society.
“Therefore, the inspiration for our constitution must come from one who
knows human nature and the condition of humanity, what harms it, and
what benefits it. That is, the one God, the creator and facilitator.”73 As the re-
ligion of the majority of Egyptians, it was only logical, according to this line
of argument, that Islam should inspire the system governing the nation.
In this way, the editors of al-Da‘wa, led by Tilmisani in his opening
editorials, made impassioned pleas to the state’s lawmakers for a central
place for Islam in the Egyptian constitution. To be sure, the Muslim Broth-
erhood frequently lauded statements by Sadat and other officials pledg-
ing to designate the Shari‘a as the primary source of legislation in Egypt.
Such remarks were frequently displayed on the pages of al-Da‘wa as proof
that the Muslim Brotherhood was gaining ground in Egypt and fulfilling
its mission of infusing an Islamic ethos into the country’s legal system.
Nonetheless, the demands of effectively implementing the Shari‘a went
far beyond the symbolic gestures that Sadat was willing to make. The en-
suing conflict between the Muslim Brotherhood and the regime usually
centered on the exact role that the Shari‘a should play in public life.
By late 1979, al-Da‘wa was reflecting the mood among Islamic activ-
ists who felt betrayed by Sadat’s revision of the constitution, which defined
Egypt in democratic socialist terms. His infamous comment that “there

is no politics in religion or religion in politics” was viewed as an affront to
the increased Islamization of Egyptian society meticulously documented
in the magazine, as well as a departure from Sadat’s previous comments.
In the September 1979 issue, both Tilmisani and ‘Ashmawi addressed
the crisis over the constitution. The latter’s commentary denounced the
government’s dismissive attitude toward the notion of an “Islamic consti-
tution” and called for the formation of a committee to amend the consti-
tution following the failures of Sadat’s reforms.74 Tilmisani gave a more
sobering assessment, one that seemed resigned to the endless string of
revisions:
The secret behind the revisions and reforms of the constitutions

from time to time has one root cause, though it may appear to have
several. The Egyptian constitution relied on foreign sources for its
content; they have their own manners, traditions, and principles,
completely conflicting with our manners, traditions, and princi-
ples. The text of the constitution has demonstrated that it has inad-
equately protected freedoms, rights, and individual and collective
security in Egypt. Had it been established on God’s path, the reli-
gion of this Ummah . . . it would never have needed to be revised or
amended from its establishment through today.75
The Muslim Brotherhood’s leaders framed the discussion about the im-
plementation of Islamic law through the prism of public interest. As chief
competitor to the state’s program, the Muslim Brotherhood put forward
an alternative system to the one Egyptians had suffered through under
the current government. In an edition of his semi-regular column exco-
riating state officials for their “conspiracy against the Shari‘a,” ‘Ashmawi
proclaimed, “In Egypt’s constitution, Islam is stated as the official state
religion and the Shari‘a as its chief source of legislation. . . . Yet we hear
constantly of women abducted and assaulted, passengers on trains and
buses attacked and robbed by armed gangs.”76 Clearly, the issues of public
safety and the rule of law were linked directly to the implementation of
the Shari‘a, which, according to its advocates, provided the necessary
remedy to such issues of concern.
By the middle of 1980, ‘Ashmawi wondered aloud why the discussion
about legislating Islamic statutes had ceased completely to be a part of the
public discourse. He contrasted that dilemma with the claim that most
Egyptians had expressed their desire for just such a change, especially in
light of the social problems affecting their daily life. Instead of fulfilling
these wishes, lawmakers failed to act on their earlier commitments, rel-
egating Islamic law to a symbolic place in Egyptian society. The situation
did not improve in successive months. In one of the most confrontational
pieces to appear in al-Da‘wa, Tilmisani authored an editorial calling on
the entire government, from the president to the ministers and members
of parliament, to resign their positions as a result of their failure to uphold
the tenets of the constitution. The Muslim Brotherhood’s leader began by
declaring:
In all the constitutional countries of the world, parties compete by

various means available to them in order to accomplish the goal of
implementing an agenda believed to be in the best interest of the
nation. . . . It is of no importance who governs, but how they govern,
in accordance with the one and only source. In that regard, what
they all have in common is a respect for the constitution and the
preservation of its principles.77
Tilmisani continued by arguing passionately that Egypt’s government,

led by its president, had abandoned its claim to legitimacy by repeatedly
violating the constitution it had reformed. To be sure, the Muslim Broth-
erhood acknowledged that its provocative call was sure to increase ten-
sions with the state. At a time when hostilities between the regime and
the Islamic movement’s fringe elements were already reaching a boiling
point, the Muslim Brotherhood took special care to distinguish its sharp
rebuke of the government from that of other groups. Its criticism was well
intentioned, according to Tilmisani, and done in the spirit of brotherhood,
from one Muslim to another:
Do not look at what we have suggested in anger, for there is noth-

ing between us and you except for the compassion of Muslims who
desire for their country’s leaders to be under the protection of God’s
law. . . . You are ministers of a state whose president has professed
to be a Muslim and to govern an Islamic nation. What have you
fulfilled from that mission?78
This statement represented a clear attempt by the Muslim Brotherhood’s

leader to balance his organization’s need to express its position in strong
terms, with recognition of the weight that such remarks might have in
Egypt’s tense political environment. As if to acknowledge the potential
backlash that may arise from calling on government officials to step
down, Tilmisani assured them that “we do not possess more than the
word.” That is, this plea was part of the larger discourse on the impor-
tance of Shari‘a to society and not a public call to action.
As with its commemoration of suffering, the Muslim Brotherhood’s
framing of its constitutional concerns positioned the organization as the
rightful defender of Egypt against the designs of those who would deny
the will of the people to live as devout Muslims, free from foreign or do-
mestic domination. Following the same model also meant that the writers
of al-Da‘wa would frame the discussion to allow for the maximum degree
of popular support for their position and minimal government backlash.
Regarding its relationship with the state’s reforms, the Muslim Brother-
hood would contend that the majority of Egyptians sided with the effort to
Islamize the constitution. Such claims were difficult to prove, however, as
there was no adequate measure of support because of a noticeable lack of
any call to action on the part of the Muslim Brotherhood. In addition to its
calls for constitutional reforms, another indicator of the Muslim Brother-
hood’s relationship to the state was its perspective on the Muslim world at
large, especially through the lens of Egyptian foreign policy. As the follow-
ing section demonstrates, this discourse also helped connect the organi-
zation to a far broader audience, that of the global community of Muslims.
War, Peace, and the Ummah

In the early part of the 1970s, as Sadat was solidifying his authority and
the Muslim Brotherhood began a phase of reorganization, the foreign
policy orientations of the two political forces were largely in line with one
another. From the president’s standpoint, the ideology of Arab national-
ism that directed Egypt’s foreign policy during the previous two decades
was in need of complete dismantlement due to its failure to meet its pri-
mary objectives. From the perspective of the Islamic movement, the col-
lapse of secular nationalism as the driving force behind the Arab world’s
international relations gave a boost to its assertion that a foreign policy
rooted in the collective interest of the Muslim Ummah should guide the
nation’s leaders. Moreover, both parties were in agreement that the Israeli
occupation of Arab lands since the devastating defeat in the Six Day War
was the most pressing foreign policy issue facing Egypt.
Within only three years of his assumption of power, Sadat had already
withdrawn from the orbit of the Soviet Union, redefined Egypt’s role in the
Arab world, and mounted a military campaign to force Israel’s withdrawal
from occupied lands. Contrary to the desires of many Egyptians, however,
all of these actions held various deleterious consequences. The patron-
age of the Soviet Union was replaced by Sadat’s courtship of US leaders.
A realignment of regional power saw Egypt embrace former rivals at the
expense of its allies, diminishing its influence across the Arab world. Fi-
nally, the 1973 war demonstrated the collective will of Arab forces, but
failed to produce a military solution to Israeli occupation.
As the Muslim Brotherhood’s leaders witnessed these events, a new
message developed in accordance with the rapidly changing geopolitical
climate around them. Though the essence of the group’s long-standing
mission—the need for an Islamic foreign policy—remained intact, the
framing mechanisms experienced significant changes from earlier peri-
ods. Colonialism, for decades a major focus of the Muslim Brotherhood’s
critiques, was of less importance in an independent Egypt. Concerns over
British rule gave way to scathing attacks on Soviet and American hege-
mony. Calls for unity under the banner of Islam outlasted the allure of
Arab nationalism, which met its fate in the defeat of 1967. In urging the
confrontation with Israel, the Muslim Brotherhood frequently recalled the
sacrifices made by past generations and stressed the universal principles
that would lead not only Arabs, but the entire Muslim world, to victory.
The failure to produce a decisive victory in 1973 signaled the beginning
of major tensions between Sadat and the Muslim Brotherhood. The presi-
dent used the political capital gained from Egypt’s strong showing to
consolidate his authority and pursue a diplomatic solution to the occupa-
tion, while the Muslim Brotherhood cemented its position as the govern-
ment’s chief opposition movement in demanding continued hostilities
with Israel.
As the Muslim Brotherhood’s chief media outlet, al-Da‘wa factored
heavily in promoting the organization’s views of Egyptian foreign policy,
the Arab-Israeli conflict, and the state of the Muslim world. This out-
look was reflected in a number of regular sections, feature news articles,
and editorials. Every issue included a segment entitled “Our Islamic
Nation,” which compiled reports of developments in various corners of
the Muslim world. Articles on Egyptian foreign relations usually focused
on current events, such as the rounds of diplomacy with the United States
and the changing status of Egypt in the Arab world. As the source of the
continuous conflict in the region, Israel maintained a special place in the

magazine. Guest contributors specializing in the field presented a history
of the Zionist movement and the Jewish state in a number of articles.
In addition, a regular feature by ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Salim entitled “Israel:
The Present and the Future” provided a full analysis of the contemporary
geopolitical situation and the domestic scene in Israel, prognosticating
an imminent demise for the Zionist project. Finally, Tilmisani personally
devoted a large amount of his opening commentaries to the Arab and
Muslim world’s conduct in relation to Israeli occupation, superpower he-
gemony, and regional politics. Together, these contributions represented
the Muslim Brotherhood’s worldview, presented to the group’s audience
in an accessible fashion.
The emergence of a bipolar global order in the latter half of the twen-
tieth century presented a central problem for the Islamic movement. In
the midst of Soviet and US competition for influence in all corners of the
globe, the Muslim Brotherhood faced increasing challenges to carve a role
for Islam in a region dominated by external forces. The aim of the new
discourse was to empower Egyptians with a sense of their Islamic iden-
tity, while diminishing the seemingly omnipresent stature of the super-
powers. A Muslim Brotherhood leader wrote in 1979 that the preceding
decade signaled a shift away from the two orbits in much of the world.79
The US withdrawal from Vietnam shattered the myth of its military in-
vincibility, and the Soviet Union’s image as a benevolent power proved
spurious following its actions in Angola and Mozambique. The control
over large masses of land and peoples was shrinking, and the time was
ripe for Islam to assert itself as the path for nations to follow. The Iranian
Revolution, though Shi‘ite in character, proved that it could be done.
Nonetheless, a debate in the pages of al-Da‘wa contemplated the Ira-
nian model and the unification of the Islamic movement worldwide as
possible courses to follow.80 In spite of the symbolic support given to such
a project, the conclusion seemed to endorse a non-revolutionary, exclu-
sively Egyptian track. Monthly pieces in “Our Islamic Nation” informed
readers of the plight of Muslims from Morocco to Indonesia and beyond,
but fell short of calling Egyptians—or their leaders—to action. The news
and analysis provided in these articles served to keep readers informed of
the larger Islamic world while properly contextualizing their place within
it. The image of Muslims across the globe suffering under oppressive po-
litical and socioeconomic conditions was articulated in a deliberate way to
give Egyptians a sense that they were part of a larger struggle for justice,
to which all Muslims aspired. All that was required of the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s following, at least in the immediate term, was the fulfillment of
their duty toward their nation through the liberation of their land from
foreign occupation and imperialism. By embracing the conflict against
Israel as central to the broader struggle of Muslims against colonialism,
imperialism, and Zionism, the people of Egypt could commit to making
the necessary sacrifices to achieve victory.
The language of sacrifice was particularly important in the Muslim
Brotherhood’s discourse. In his pursuit of a separate peace with Israel,
Sadat rationalized his independent track—widely perceived as abandon-
ment of the Arab cause—by claiming that Egyptians had long shouldered
the costs of war. A US-sponsored accord would lift the burden from the
long-suffering Egyptian nation and restore its lost territory. Though this
rhetoric was effective in generating significant Egyptian support for the
negotiations at Camp David, the Muslim Brotherhood fought back in the
form of numerous editorials decrying the desertion of the greater cause
of the Ummah.
Moreover, according to a number of al-Da‘wa articles, the defeat in
1967 signaled the end of the “fraudulent rhetoric of the past” in the pro-
gram pursued by Nasser, and ushered in “a revelation of truth that the
only path to victory is attachment to Allah as God, Islam as religion, and
Muhammad as prophet and messenger.”81 The early 1970s brought “a
new dawn” in which Egyptians, young and old alike, were affected by
the heavenly message and worked toward a more complete victory. In the
estimation of the Muslim Brotherhood, the war in October 1973 was a
near-fulfillment of God’s promise of victory, thwarted only by American
interference, with its military and technological sophistication, which it
provided to Israel.
In crafting their analysis of the events leading to the present negotia-
tions, the editors of al-Da‘wa were careful to avoid the scathing personal
critiques against Sadat that were common at the time by other Islamic
groups and Arab nationalists. One regular contributor, Salah Shadi, wrote:
We will not say what others have said, that Sadat’s visit to Jerusalem
is in itself a horrendous crime or political ingenuity, for this dis-
tracts from discussion of the issue at hand and leads to arguments
over pictures and symbols. And we do not say that Sadat is the one
who accepted the offer for peace, for Nasser beat him to it after the
defeat of 1967.82
This is a clear example of the great lengths that the moderate mainstream
of the Islamic movement went to in order to avoid a direct confrontation
with the regime. Such prudent remarks also served to distinguish the
Muslim Brotherhood’s critique of the ongoing peace process from that
of the emerging extremist fringe, whose rhetoric began to focus solely
on the figure of Sadat, especially following his 1977 trip to Jerusalem. As
the stakes became higher, with the rise in anti-state violence (ultimately
culminating in Sadat’s assassination), the Muslim Brotherhood took great
pains to avoid undermining the legitimacy of the regime, especially on
matters of foreign policy. Rather, Tilmisani preached national unity and
advocated the empowerment of the Arabs in the face of a common threat.
In what was a fresh, Islamically oriented take on Nasser’s pan-Arabism,
the general guide of the Muslim Brotherhood envisioned victory through
strong leadership and spiritual unity:
There is a wide gulf between the Arab Muslim countries. The solu-
tion to Israel’s occupation is with you, not America or Russia. There
is no victory except from God and from the people and no worth
to these people until they return to their religion and make their
peace with God. They cannot do that while you are leaving them
in a state of stagnation, weakness, and collapse. . . . You are able to
achieve victory, if you wanted, and no one could stand in your way.
Nothing stands between you and the implementation of God’s law
in your lands.83
This impassioned plea by Tilmisani reflected the organization’s stance

with regard to issues of international relations, up to and including the
continuous state of war with Israel. Such challenges are viewed as mo-
ments of self-definition for the global community of Muslims. In the
eyes of the Muslim Brotherhood, the emphasis on colonial power, Zion-
ism, and later, the twin evils of communism and free market capitalism,
played important roles in determining Muslim identity in the modern
world. Only by addressing these threats head on through embodying tra-
ditional religious values, could the Ummah ever hope to secure its own
existence and determine its own destiny.
The introspective nature of the discussion of foreign affairs was a
common thread throughout the run of the magazine, especially in its final
issues, when the future of the Egyptian state was to be forever altered by
the course Sadat had taken. For every article on the illegality of Israel’s
occupation and the immoral enterprise of Zionism, there was a critical com-
mentary on the state of the Arab and Muslim world in the face of these chal-
lenges. Indeed, as with every other topic area covered in al-Da‘wa, the aim
was to develop readers into conscientious, productive citizens by reawaken-
ing their absent sense of Islamic identity, revitalizing their weakened spiri-
tual life, and prompting them to action. Because the level of international
conflict was beyond their basic abilities as individuals, however, the quest
for justice for Muslims across the region was a long-term goal that would
only be achieved following the Islamization of society at home. This is why,
contrary to a number of analyses of the magazine, the causes of Muslims
worldwide, including the liberation of Egyptian land, took a backseat to
issues of domestic concern in the course of al-Da‘wa’s run.
Islam and Society

As the Muslim Brotherhood’s work in the previous areas helped to define
it as an opposition movement at odds with the state’s program, those
critical of the organization’s efforts saw fit to paint it with the brush of
extremism. The course of al-Da‘wa’s run clearly demonstrates, however,
that the emphasis on the engagement of society and the development of
religious life sharply distinguished the Muslim Brotherhood from other
trends of the Islamic movement. In fact, the overwhelming bulk of topics
covered by the group’s chief publication fell under the category of “Islam
and society.” This content also derived its importance from the fact that it
represented the Muslim Brotherhood’s relationship to Egyptian society at
large, as opposed to its followers or the state.
In hoping to build a popular, grassroots movement that instituted Is-
lamic culture and values in the everyday lives of Egyptians, Tilmisani
set his group apart from those, such as al-Takfir wal-Higra, who chose to
follow a divergent path toward isolation and militancy. Moreover, focusing
on the needs of society allowed the Muslim Brotherhood more freedom
to operate, as such a mission did not directly threaten the political estab-
lishment. In fact, while some of the articles did contain implications for
social policy, most of the content related to Islam in society presented no
opposition to the government. On one level, Sadat tolerated the effort to
Islamize Egyptian society as an effective means to achieve his goal of de-
Nasserization. These articles covered everything from Islamic practice,
cultural interactions, and family life, to urban development, education,
professional careers, and rural life—in other words, all the features of
Egyptian society. The Muslim Brotherhood writers infused an Islamic

ethos in their discussion of all of these topics in an attempt to spread the
organization’s mission and to lay the groundwork for the ideal Islamic
society to which they aspired.
Some of these articles were topical in nature, coinciding with the ar-
rival of a particular occasion, such as the holy month of Ramadan or the
Hajj season. These features served as reminders of the significance of re-
ligious rituals and to encourage a collective awareness of the faith’s many
tenets. One such piece, for instance, commemorated the anniversary of
Muhammad’s Night Journey and discussed the lessons for contemporary
Egyptians from an event in the early history of Islam.84
Another category of articles reflected the Muslim Brotherhood’s at-
tempts to become deeply involved in the daily affairs of its audience. These
included occasional feature segments, such as “With the Farmer,” and
regular installments of “Youth and Universities News” and “Toward a
Muslim Home,” among others. These pieces allowed the authors to tailor
their message to distinctive audiences on the basis of their social standing.
Most of these articles followed the same general layout. They outlined
a central theme or issue of concern for that particular month and ad-
dressed it in general terms from the body of thought developed by the
movement over the course of its existence, and more directly from more
current sources that tackled previously unforeseen questions. An article
on the problems with university textbooks, for instance, included a page-
long excerpt from a speech by Banna to students in which he espoused
the virtues of iman (faith), ikhlas (sincerity), hamasa (zeal), and ‘amal
(action) in pursuing higher education. By embarking on their mission
in this spirit, Banna argued that the students would serve not only them-
selves, but their entire nation.85 Coupled with this page from the Muslim
Brotherhood’s past, the editors of al-Da‘wa also included an unsigned
statement decrying the Ministry of Education’s policy on university text-
books and calling for the government to meet the needs of students by
developing a more up-to-date curriculum.
In this manner, the Muslim Brotherhood managed to appeal to a broad
audience, offering a message that encompassed the goals of the Islamic
movement intertwined with practical advice and support to the various
elements of its constituency. Rural Egyptians and farmers were told that
they provided a vital service to the rest of their countrymen and were en-
titled to more rights and benefits than what was provided by the govern-
ment. In an article entitled, “How Will You Sell Your Cotton This Year?”
the Muslim Brotherhood’s writer offered the cotton farmers three op-
tions: exporting to foreign markets, storing and selling wholesale to local
companies, or joining the local cooperative to sell the produce in small
quantities.86 The article weighed the costs and benefits of each option,
allowing the readers to decide for themselves what plan best suited them.
Other pieces announced new technologies to ease the strains on farm
workers, such as the development of a new industrial refrigerator to store
potatoes.87 If those efforts did not make clear that the Muslim Brother-
hood appreciated the plight of the Egyptian farmer, more provocative en-
tries demonstrated the group’s understanding of the history of worker
exploitation and a commitment to fight for their rights:
After it was proven that the majority of farmers were the victims
of the deviation into cooperatives, from one side, and the corrup-
tion of the supervising agency, from another side . . . for nearly
fifty years, spent by the millions of farmers, toiling in the mills
and grinders of “cooperative” corruption, whether under the era
of feudal estates and parties or the era of the “socialist revolution”
which filled the world with slogans of a war against corruption . . .
when all that remained was the never-ending tragedy lived by mil-
lions of toiling farmers.88
Articles such as these concluded with fiery words addressed to the au-
thorities responsible for the fate of farm laborers. During a crisis over a
shortage of fertilizer, for instance, al-Da‘wa confronted the minister of
agriculture directly, questioning his handling of the situation and offer-
ing simple suggestions to ease the difficulties faced by many farmers.89
Reflecting a long-standing feature of modern Egyptian society, the
Muslim Brotherhood regarded medical doctors as the highest trained
professionals and the cornerstones of an advanced society. The articles
addressing those in the field stressed the importance of developing
an Islamic medical ethos.90 The measure of progress could be seen in
al-Da‘wa’s later content, which no longer discussed a theoretical approach
to Islamic medicine, but rather displayed the fruits of several years of
activism within the Egyptian medical community. An October 1978 piece
listed the many accomplishments of the Islamic Medical Union, an orga-
nization led by Muslim Brotherhood members. In addition to advancing
an Islamic perspective on medical practice, the union offered numerous
services to medical students and doctors alike, including: helping medical
students with preparations for exams; building a library of medical ref-

erence materials, courtesy of a contribution from the awqaf minister of
Kuwait; offering access to educational equipment and supplies; facilitat-
ing free medical services for impoverished communities; and initiating
the building stage of an Islamic hospital.91
Another area of deep concern for the Muslim Brotherhood was the
changes in the structure of Egyptian families brought about by moder-
nity. The monthly section entitled “Toward a Muslim Home” addressed
this issue directly, paying particular attention to the status of women in
an Islamic society. Though the first few installments in this series were
compiled by the editors, the section was eventually adopted by Zainab
al-Ghazali, the only prominent female contributor to al-Da‘wa. As a vet-
eran of the Islamic movement in Egypt and leader of the Muslim Sister-
hood, Ghazali was well positioned to articulate the magazine’s discourse
on gender.
Though the topic varied from issue to issue, the basic format remained
similar to the previously discussed sections. Ghazali chose a topic of con-
cern to Muslim families, addressed it through her knowledge of Egyptian
society, including cultural and religious norms, as well as modern inno-
vations. The second part of the piece usually featured an Islamic lesson
relating to gender and the importance of the family. Based on traditional
sources, such as the model of the early Islamic community, these lectures
generally aimed to strike a chord with readers who failed to connect be-
tween the experiences of the past and the challenges of the present.
One of Ghazali’s contributions captured the essence of the magazine’s
social mission. An article entitled “The Muslim Family in the Face of Chal-
lenges” defined the problem as perceived by the Muslim Brotherhood’s
school of thought. Ghazali used the image of a hurricane engulfing Egyp-
tians, bringing “the winds of modernity” to a society with deep cultural
and religious roots.92 Identifying a pervasive campaign to undermine the
Islamic character of society, she cautioned citizens against joining in that
effort, however unwittingly. As with the general theme of much of the
Muslim Brotherhood literature, this piece drew a picture of Islam under
attack from near and afar. Social forces combined to form a rejectionist at-
titude that depicted Islam as regressive, misogynist, extremist, and anach-
ronistic. Instead, these elements chose to promote excessive individualism
and materialism, allowing for the spread of promiscuity, while modesty
was equated with submission and the Muslim woman’s headscarf was
deemed an impediment to progress. Children were made to disobey their
parents in the name of freedom and independence. The very basis of the
family faced the danger of complete dismantlement, she wrote.
According to Ghazali’s analysis, these developments were not in any
doubt. The attack on Islamic values resonated with Egyptians and new
trends took hold, all in the name of modernity. One of the consequences
of this cultural transformation was the Personal Status Law promoted
by Jehan al-Sadat, which provided women with, among other things, the
right to unconditional divorce. Its proponents argued that the law “would
provide happiness for the family,” but Ghazali countered that it only led to
more threats to the family unit’s very being. The editors and contributors
of al-Da‘wa opposed this law as a dangerous plot targeting the family. The
mainstream Egyptian media were depicted as prime culprits in executing
this plot by smoothing the way for the transition to the new society. With
seemingly no other opposition, the Muslim Brotherhood presented itself
as the country’s last line of defense against these developments. Ghazali
and others stood in defense of the family, “the basic building block of
society . . . the only frame of reference for the children.”93
Upon identifying the essence of the problem as defined by the Muslim
Brotherhood for decades, Ghazali concluded with the promise to monitor
the issue closely and explore it in more depth in future issues. The second
half of her two-page spread, though seemingly unrelated to the previous
section, focused on the solution. This article profiled the historical figure
of Khadija, the first wife of Muhammad, as an exemplar of courage, devo-
tion, and good moral character for modern Muslim women. Following the
traditional Qur’anic representation of the Prophet as a role model for all
people, Ghazali prescribed a model specifically for women to follow. The
life of Khadija contained many examples, she argued, that can be applied in
the modern world. The focus was not on the differences in time and place,
but on universal values that were to be observed in the lives of early Mus-
lims such as the Prophet’s wives, and applied in a contemporary setting.
The virtues of faith, patience, steadfastness, and compassion were de-
scribed in vivid detail. The struggle facing Muslims was not limited to the
early period, Ghazali wrote, but existed in the form of new challenges in
the modern world. In this way, the author was able to seamlessly combine
elements of the first part of her contribution, a critique of modernity, with
the second piece on modern lessons from the example of a prominent
woman in the early history of Islam.
In other articles, Ghazali was even more explicit about her position
on gender roles. She viewed the notion of a woman working outside the
home as a “disgraceful betrayal of the trust for which she was created.”94
Perhaps in an allusion to her own position as a prominent writer and
activist, Ghazali does allow for the employment of women in certain cir-
cumstances, provided it does not adversely affect their domestic respon-
sibilities. The Muslim Brotherhood’s discourse on gender was indicative
of the organization’s larger aim in framing its social agenda, in this case
attempting to stem the tide of foreign-inspired innovations and restore
traditional values.
As the area on which Tilmisani focused the bulk of his group’s efforts,
social advocacy consisted in large part of defining roles that every social
segment was meant to play in the nation’s development. In addressing
various professions separately, the writers in al-Da‘wa sought to create a
sense of individual responsibility. Doctors, lawyers, engineers, and farm-
ers were approached in a personal manner in an attempt to appeal to each
segment on its own terms. As detailed in prior chapters, students were
given special attention because of the potential they held. If reached at a
young age, they were expected to carry the mission of the Muslim Broth-
erhood and work toward its fulfillment wherever they went. The gender
roles delineated by Ghazali were a central part of this overarching agenda.
The Islamic movement founded by Hasan al-Banna aimed to establish
a social base capable of carrying out the group’s mission. According to this
vision, the Islamization of Egyptian society began by arming individuals
with the knowledge and tools they needed to pursue an Islamic way of life
in the course of their daily affairs. Perhaps more so than in any previous
period, the content in al-Da‘wa in the late 1970s addressed Egyptians in
a clear and concise manner, motivating them to transform their way of
life in accordance with the teachings of their religion, as interpreted and
packaged by the leaders of the Muslim Brotherhood.
The articles in the magazine focusing on Islam and social life were
the essence of Tilmisani’s Muslim Brotherhood. They acted as the driving
force behind the movement and were chief among all the topics covered in
the pages of al-Da‘wa. The remaining subject areas were ancillary to the
overarching goal of embedding Islamic ideals in the social sphere. The
Egyptian audience of al-Da‘wa could not be expected to carry out the task
of advocating for an Islamic form of governance if it had not internalized
the teachings of their religion in its daily life. Nor could the legacy of the
Muslim Brotherhood’s historical experience have had the desired impact
upon the new generation without their appreciation for the norms and
values upon which previous generations based their actions.
Conclusion
L ook ing b ack on the achievements of the Islamic movement in the

1970s, it is easy to lose sight of the disorderly and indeterminate nature
of the movement, instead constructing a narrative that views the decade
as the staging ground for the Muslim Brotherhood’s triumphant return
from the dustbin of history to the fore of Egyptian society and politics. But
the reconstituted Muslim Brotherhood was shaped in large part by exter-
nal factors that led to the emergence of a transformed and reconfigured
organization. It reflected the established realities within Egyptian society,
whether the state of political discourse or the dynamics of popular conten-
tion, as much as it demonstrated the fulfillment of the vision of its senior
leaders. These figures, however, made it their central mission to preserve
the legacy of the traditional organization that defined their lifelong experi-
ence with Islamic activism.
Therefore, the principal conflict of this era was one between the forces
of continuity, fighting for the preservation of an existing order within the
Islamic movement, and the forces of change, both internal and external,
that sought to redesign the political, social, and cultural landscape upon
which this Islamic activist mission was pursued. Examined through a
conceptual framework, the dividing lines in this struggle become readily
apparent.
The Muslim Brotherhood’s senior leadership advanced an organiza-
tional model replicating the group’s historical experience. Given the rise
of many new groups contending for the leadership of the Islamic move-
ment, ‘Umar al-Tilmisani asserted the authority of the Muslim Brother-
hood over all contenders. Its mobilizing power was one that had to be
safeguarded, beginning with the organization’s name. Responding to
critics who suggested that the Muslim Brotherhood should not resume
its mission until it has abandoned its name, Tilmisani put forward a list
of ten reasons that such a proposal should be rejected in the strongest of
terms.1 He began by stating that “the Muslim Brotherhood has become
a school. All of the callers learn through its institutions.” Continuing,
Tilmisani stressed the name’s positive influence on the youth and com-
memorated the sacrifices on its behalf by countless activists over the years,
including its founder: “What would we say to our martyr imam, Hasan
al-Banna, who sacrificed his life in the cause of God, holding firm to this
noble principle?” He concluded forcefully, posing the rhetorical question
of who would lead the way, should the Muslim Brotherhood fold its tent:
Who do we have as an inspirational guide, as a master to the gen-

erations, after the martyr imam and his successor, al-Hudaybi, to
establish, raise, teach, lead, formulate, and implement? What guide
can set the foundations, deliver the message, show the path, and
gather the people around the book and the tradition with the same
persistence, commitment, and loyalty?2
Beyond the name, senior figures argued for the continuation of the Muslim
Brotherhood’s historic organizational makeup. From the point of view of
Kamal al-Sananiri and Mustafa Mashhur, the group’s most effective mo-
bilizing structure was its traditional hierarchy. Beginning at the top with
the general guide and the Guidance Bureau, the organization had a power
to mobilize its members down to the lowest rank-and-file follower. This
was a feature of the Muslim Brotherhood that these figures were not eager
to forfeit. In fact, they took important measures to strengthen the orga-
nizational structure. Learning from the failures of Hasan al-Hudaybi to
exert the same level of authority over the organization as his charismatic
predecessor, Mashhur emphasized strict discipline and obedience to the
leader immediately above one’s station in the chain of command. The
result was an organizational structure that depended less on the charisma
or leadership qualities of the general guide, and more on the ability of
regional and local heads to enforce subservience.
From an intellectual standpoint, throughout the 1970s, the Muslim
Brotherhood continued to frame its program as one of continuity with
the positions established during the early days of the organization. For
instance, ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh recalled that Tilmisani publicly
endorsed the organization’s traditional view against the concept of po-
litical parties, while privately, his view had shifted to one of support for
Conclusion 217
them in certain instances.3 Indeed, the cultural framing challenge for

the Muslim Brotherhood was one of maintaining the vision articulated
by its founder while also responding to the challenges of the day and
demonstrating enough of an ability to adapt to shifting priorities within
the intellectual currents of the Islamic movement. The disparity in con-
tent within the pages of al-Da‘wa, from the republished pre-revolution
tracts by Banna and Hudaybi’s letters to Gamal Abdel Nasser, to articles
on Anwar al-Sadat’s peace initiative and the state of education in Egypt,
are an indication that, try as it might, the Muslim Brotherhood could not
afford to rely simply on its past to dictate its future.
External challenges set certain limits on the Muslim Brotherhood’s
reconstitution efforts. Though it never formulated a clear policy vis-à-vis
the Islamic movement, the Sadat regime influenced its direction during
every phase of its development. In fact, it is precisely the ad hoc nature of
state policy toward Islamic activism that reverberated in the form of divi-
sions within the movement. Sadat at once attempted to claim a stake for
the regime in the Islamization of society, while also setting strict limita-
tions on the application of this goal. He declared Islam as the source of all
legislation in Egypt’s revised constitution, but categorically rejected the
call to implement traditional Islamic legal statutes. He removed the bar-
riers to university activism, thus allowing the Islamic student movement
to flourish, while refusing to lift the ban on the Muslim Brotherhood to
operate freely within society and to advocate for Islamic government from
within the halls of power.
Furthermore, the regime signaled an abrupt reversal from the reli-
gious rhetoric that defined the early part of the decade. A state that was to
be built on the pillars of “science and faith” gave way to the proclamation
that “there is no religion in politics and there is no politics in religion.”
Whereas Sadat framed the October War in religious language, the Camp
David Accords were sold as a matter of national interest. 4 The man once
known as “the believer president” was garnering comparisons to Pharaoh
by the end of his life.
Within this turbulent political atmosphere, the Muslim Brotherhood
was forced to contend with the state’s claims to religious authority. In a
break from its past, when it did not have to challenge religious claims
on the part of the ruling power, the organization expended tremendous
energies refuting the state’s assertions and pointing out its glaring incon-
sistencies. But by engaging the Sadat regime on this question so vigor-
ously, the Muslim Brotherhood implicitly recognized it as a significant
actor within the field of Islamic politics, thereby expanding the field for
yet another competitor.
Not that this development was purely negative from the standpoint of
the Muslim Brotherhood—by paving the way for the regime’s entry into
the discourse on Islam and politics, the Muslim Brotherhood created an
avenue by which it could, in turn, directly engage the state on a number of
policy areas that previous iterations of the Muslim Brotherhood, whether
under the liberal/colonial regime or in the early revolutionary era, could
not.5 Debates ranging from the sources of legislation in the constitution
to specific policy proposals dealing with war and peace, public morality,
health, and education were all discussed in the fiery and contentious at-
mosphere of the mid-1970s. On occasion, the conflict left the realm of
public discourse and emerged in the form of popular protest, as in the
1977 Bread Riots.
In measuring the political opportunities in place during various parts
of the Sadat era, the Muslim Brotherhood at times struggled to strike
the balance between maintaining its traditional outlook and adapting to
a fluid political and social environment. At least twice, Tilmisani was of-
fered the opportunity to join the government in some capacity, and both
times he flatly refused, for fear of diluting the essence of his organization.
Yet in other instances, the Muslim Brotherhood supported the engage-
ment of its youth members with the regime by participating in Student
Union elections. In fact, the organization built on this experience by ex-
panding the scope its participation so widely that, by the early 1980s, the
Muslim Brotherhood had come to control a number of professional syn-
dicates and even forged political alliances with established parties and
contested parliamentary elections.
It is this development, the engagement with the student movement,
which most directly impacted the evolution of the Muslim Brotherhood’s
mission during the 1970s. The organizational dynamism and intellectual
fluidity for which the Islamic student movement became known forced
a recalculation on the part of elder leaders of the Muslim Brotherhood.
In the course of their recruitment of the youth, they adopted many ele-
ments of their discourse, even as they attempted to challenge some as-
pects of the youth’s beliefs and practices that they considered misguided.
Even after the ideological questions were resolved, largely in favor of the
Muslim Brotherhood’s traditional program, Tilmisani and other leaders
had to contend with the desire on the part of student leaders to maintain
the outward focus of their activist mission. Upon the entry of the bulk
Conclusion 219
of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s leaders into the Muslim Brotherhood in the

mid-1970s, group elders struck a delicate balance between inculcating the
students with the principles of an enclosed, self-contained organization
and the demands of public activism.
This was a long-running debate within the upper ranks of the Muslim
Brotherhood, some of whom wanted to abandon the notion of an internal
organizational hierarchy unrelated to the group’s public mission. Other
figures, however, discerned a real need for such a structure, akin to the
controversial Secret Apparatus, and it was those figures, including Mash-
hur and Sananiri, who gradually instituted this policy within the struc-
ture of the group. Whereas traditionally, the Secret Apparatus existed as a
separate, self-contained entity from the rest of the Muslim Brotherhood’s
organization, these leaders gradually infused their philosophy across all
levels of the group’s ranks, so that by the mid-1980s, the Muslim Brother-
hood’s organizational structure was virtually inseparable from the strict
internal hierarchy unrelated to its public mission.
Once again, the insular nature of this strategy stemmed from the
concern over the loss of the Muslim Brotherhood’s traditional vision in
the face of increasing contestation, not only from the Sadat regime, but
also from within some corners of the Islamic movement as well. While
the Muslim Brotherhood successfully incorporated a large contingent of
student activists into its ranks, not only did it have to address the intellec-
tual and organizational dilemmas they posed, but it also had to contend
with the vocal minority of Islamic activists who rejected the da‘wa of the
Muslim Brotherhood and put forward an alternative mission of their own.
Ultimately, this period proved to be as much about charting a new
course for the organization by way of cultivating a fresh base of support as
it was about preserving the legacy of the traditional Muslim Brotherhood
of eras past. In due course, the youth members of the organization, who
had successfully held the banner of popular activism during their col-
lege years, would take the reins of leadership and determine the Muslim
Brotherhood’s program for the coming decades. As Abul Futuh later ob-
served, the ensuing period:
was decisive in the construction of the Society of the Muslim

Brotherhood and the development of its intellectual program and
strategy for activism, the cultivation of its public image and its
guiding principles as well. This period also saw the resolution of a
number of issues that previously lacked clarity, such as the position
on violence and underground activity. It also established the foun-

dations of the Muslim Brotherhood’s organizational structure, the
rules governing its internal management, and the educational cur-
riculum. . . . It is what allowed the Society to press forward strongly,
filling the void of popular activism in Egypt.6
Tilmisani’s notion of tawrith al-da‘wa was indicative of only one-half of

the equation. Not only was the call bequeathed to the next generation of
Islamic activists, it was also reimagined for a new era.
Epilogue
In her 2008 novel Farag (Release), Radwa ‘Ashour tells the story of a
generation disillusioned by the broken promises of an unfulfilled revolu-
tion. Even after experiencing the estrangement and dislocation caused
by her father’s political activism and subsequent imprisonment by the
Nasser regime, the novel’s narrator, Nada, finds herself drawn to the stu-
dent movement of the early 1970s. The amorphous and non-ideological
activism of this generation’s youth contrasts with that of the previous one,
and appears to cast their struggle as much against the failures of their par-
ents as it did the early excesses of Sadat’s rule. Before long, Nada too finds
herself imprisoned, along with hundreds of her university comrades.
Unable to cope with the monumental struggle facing them upon their
release from prison, many of Nada’s colleagues give in to despair, aban-
doning a cause that they characterize as a “historical call” for the transfor-
mation of society toward “brotherhood, equality, justice, and happiness.”1
Instead, the characters engage in a prolonged period of self-criticism,
internalizing the defeat of their “aborted dream” and experiencing such
alienation through the subsequent years that one character dubs her gen-
eration “the stillborn.” The novel’s events are based in large part on actual
events, including the rise to prominence and abrupt fall of Arwa Saleh
and Siham Sabri, leaders of the student movement who may have spent
only a short time in Sadat’s jails, but exhibited a perpetual yearning for
true liberation, finding it only upon taking their own lives, in 1997 and
2003, respectively.
To disentangle the complex social and political realities that would
cause two bright and accomplished women to commit such an act in a
cultural context in which suicide is seldom visible and rarely discussed,
‘Ashour invokes Michel Foucault’s concept of the disciplinary society. The
structures and instruments of power, as they existed in the authoritarian

environment of post-Nasserist Egypt, meant that not only would the state
exercise complete control over the physical bodies of those it segregated
from the rest of society through its political use of incarceration, but it
ensured that even upon their return to society, dissidents faced a parallel
set of constraints. Foucault likens these to the Panopticon, a disciplinary
mechanism that employs a subtle coercive technique, primarily surveil-
lance, “that assures the automatic functioning of power.”2
By the time Sadat ordered the roundup of all political dissidents in
September 1981, the process of subverting popular activism to the whims
of the state had become complete. Only two forces proved capable of chal-
lenging this arrangement: the militant underground groups who relied
on secrecy and violence in their contention against the regime; and the
Muslim Brotherhood, with a disciplined and rigid internal hierarchical
structure that permitted it to pursue a far-reaching social activist mission.
Thirty years later, however, only the latter demonstrated durability in the
face of continuing state repression.
When popular protests erupted across Egypt on January 25, 2011, the
Muslim Brotherhood was poised to place its decades of experience in the
service of a national movement to overthrow the regime of Sadat’s suc-
cessor, Hosni Mubarak. The movement that occupied Tahrir Square and
other major public spaces in urban centers around the country for eigh-
teen days was led by students and young professionals and was devoid of
any particular ideological orientation. Like the movement that dominated
Egyptian campuses in the late 1960s and early 1970s, these youth demon-
strated strength through unity of purpose, determination, and courage,
espousing universal convictions such as freedom, social justice, human
dignity, and equality of opportunity for all. In short, they demanded a
brighter future than the one their parents faced a generation earlier.
Unlike the prior era, however, this period exhibited several critical fea-
tures that would help determine the outcome of the popular revolt. From
the technological advancements that facilitated wider mobilization, to the
shifts in domestic and international political and economic conditions,
and the evolution of modes of contention, the January 25 movement held
an advantage over prior protests.
One can also add to these factors the decades of experience brought to
the movement by an entire generation of activists who grew up with the
regime and internalized its repressive tactics. Ultimately, as much as the
toppling of Mubarak symbolized the coming of age of a cosmopolitan,
Epilogue 223
tech-savvy generation, it also saw the fruition of a seemingly static dream

long held by an older cadre of Egyptians.
For when the regime began grooming Gamal Mubarak to succeed his
aging father over a decade earlier, the country’s political order betrayed a
more deeply entrenched authoritarianism. As the younger Mubarak, an
investment banker by trade, began to assume control of a greater share of
Egypt’s political and economic institutions, along with a rising oligarch
class, a panic set in among the country’s activists, resulting in the estab-
lishment of the Kifaya (Enough) movement to oppose the regime’s plans
for hereditary rule. The unspoken tenor of the emerging national struggle
suggested a visceral rejection of the notion that an octogenarian presi-
dent would hand over the country to a son and his friends in their early
forties—effectively bypassing an entire generation.
The passionate response with which this project was met served as
a testament to the notion that a society could scarcely withstand an as-
sault on the natural order of things, that is, barring a wide swath of the
population from public service and the right to contribute to the growth
and development of their nation. It is within this context, then, that the
political developments in the months following the January 25 uprising
should be understood. Barely a year after Mubarak’s overthrow, five of the
leading candidates to succeed him in Egypt’s first democratic presidential
elections in history came out of the 1970s generation of student leaders
and activists.3 Their rise to the fore of Egypt’s post-revolutionary political
scene was no mere accident. Rather, it was the product of a process that
had been at work for several decades after the rise of the student move-
ment and the concurrent reappearance of the Muslim Brotherhood as an
organized force in Egyptian society. It is worthwhile to examine the major
social and political developments over the course of the thirty-year period
since Mubarak’s ascent, placing particular emphasis on the figures who
would later assume a dominant role in the short-lived post-revolutionary
political transition.
When militants assassinated Sadat on October 6, 1981, the bulk of the
community of activists, including virtually the entire Muslim Brother-
hood leadership, had already been imprisoned weeks earlier as part of the
regime’s crackdown against dissent. Rather than a watershed moment
that threatened to undo the social mission of Egypt’s Islamic activism
of the previous decade, this event only served to delineate the varying
types of opposition faced by Egypt’s ruling elites. Having solidified their
control of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, militants based mostly in upper Egypt
took their struggle underground, beginning a drawn-out war of attrition

against the regime. By contrast, the student leaders who had joined the
Muslim Brotherhood were released from prison within months and were
allowed to resume their activities with only a few added restrictions, and
under the watchful eyes of the state security apparatus. 4
The following period witnessed a number of developments critical to
the future of the mainstream Islamic movement. Two such transforma-
tions, occurring both in tension and in parallel with one another, have
played a decisive role in the Muslim Brotherhood’s progression in the
aftermath of Mubarak’s fall. The first involves the process of intensive
focus on internal organizational development, or tanzim, that began in
the late 1970s and continued through the subsequent era of institutional
crystallization. The second reflects the growing desire, especially on the
part of the newly admitted youth members of the Muslim Brotherhood,
to continue their external outreach into Egyptian society and to estab-
lish a presence within civil society as well as state institutions. This
process, which commenced with their entry into the Student Unions,
continued with active participation in professional syndicates and cul-
minated with the decision to field candidates in parliamentary elections
beginning in 1984.
Both of these transformations were critical to the survival of the
Muslim Brotherhood in the face of the continued factionalization of the
broader Islamic movement and the external pressures from an authoritar-
ian regime more determined to intervene in civil society than it had been
under Sadat. Over the course of the ensuing decade, however, the rise of
two distinct camps within the organization would prove detrimental to its
internal cohesion and prospects for long-term survival.
Though it may have had its origins among the elder figures tasked with
reconstituting the organization, the struggle between these two distinct
impulses found its voice among the emerging leadership that came out
of the 1970s student movement. In his role as a consensus figure, Gen-
eral Guide ‘Umar al-Tilmisani encouraged both trends. On the one hand,
he fulfilled the promise of tawrith al-da‘wa, or bequeathing the mission
to the next generation through strict hierarchical discipline within the
group’s ranks, while on the other hand, he sanctioned the call of recent
college graduates to continue their public activism by joining the syndi-
cates of their respective professions, and pursuing leadership positions
within them to advance the broader Islamizing mission of the Muslim
Brotherhood. Then, at a 1983 Cairo meeting of group representatives
Epilogue 225
from across Egypt, Tilmisani announced that the organization would

begin participating in the developing political process, including the up-
coming parliamentary elections.5
In the mind of the group’s leader, the Muslim Brotherhood’s politi-
cal objectives could be pursued without compromising the organization’s
structural integrity or risking the wrath of renewed state repression on the
order of that witnessed under Nasser. This decision emboldened younger
leaders, such as ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh and ‘Esam al-‘Erian, former
heads of the student movement, both of whom pursued entry into the
Egyptian Doctors Syndicate and, in the case of al-‘Erian, the parliament
as well. He became the youngest person to serve in the body following the
1987 elections.
As Hesham al-Awadi demonstrated, the Muslim Brotherhood’s whole-
sale entry into the public square coincided with the early Mubarak re-
gime’s quest for political legitimacy. By allowing greater participation
by civil society in certain sectors of government and state institutions,
Mubarak believed he would receive tacit recognition of his ruling author-
ity by all opposition movements, including the Muslim Brotherhood.
For its part, the organization saw civic engagement as the path toward
its own rehabilitation and acceptance by the state, something it had never
fully achieved under Sadat. Once Mubarak overturned the stringent laws
governing the state’s professional syndicates, Tilmisani was free to usher
in an era of continued participation by young members.6 While by no
means granting its members full political rights, this “honeymoon” be-
tween the Muslim Brotherhood and Mubarak, as al-Awadi has termed
it, led the organization to achieve greater popular legitimacy than it had
enjoyed previously, eventually forcing a recalibration on the part of the
regime.7
Mubarak’s reforms in anticipation of the 1990 elections and the result-
ing restrictions on the participation of the Muslim Brotherhood contrib-
uted to an internal shift within the organization that saw the ascendancy
of the conservative elements at the expense of the accommodationists,
whose years of political work had become frustrated by an increasingly
autocratic regime. While the ability of Egypt’s security apparatus to ex-
ploit the internal cleavages within the Muslim Brotherhood’s leadership
became a recurring theme in the 1990s and beyond, such external factors
were only part of the story. Internally, the Muslim Brotherhood began
to display important distinctions between two increasingly disparate
factions.
To be sure, their conflict was not ideological in nature. The Muslim

Brotherhood continued to exhibit the multiplicity of religious outlooks
that was a feature of the 1970s Islamic movement. Rather, the institu-
tional and political challenges that arose with the full-time resumption of
the organization’s mission necessitated the development of a pragmatic
approach on the part of all of the figures involved. On the one hand, the
group concerned primarily with the preservation of the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s internal structure opposed public activism only insofar as it
would dilute, or worse, destroy the central leadership’s influence over its
members. Future General Guide Mahdi ‘Akef, long considered a leading
member of the Guidance Bureau’s conservative wing, had been vocal in
his opposition to Tilmisani’s efforts to pursue a more public political role
for the Muslim Brotherhood.8
‘Akef, along with Mustafa Mashhur and other senior figures of the
conservative wing, began to rely more heavily on younger members
who had not risen to positions of leadership within the student move-
ment and could presumably be expected to fall in line with the more
restrictive directives of the post-Tilmisani Guidance Bureau. Mohamed
Morsi, who had not been particularly active within the student move-
ment during his time at Cairo University through the late 1970s, was
illustrative of this trend. Upon his return from the United States, where
he pursued his doctorate, Morsi climbed steadily through the ranks
of the Muslim Brotherhood’s internal leadership structure. Similarly,
Khairat al-Shater, who had attended Alexandria University but was not
especially visible within the Islamic movement there, emerged as a key
figure within the Muslim Brotherhood’s central leadership in the late
1980s.
By the early 1990s, this group, which may be termed the conservative-
pragmatists, had consolidated its control over the Guidance Bureau and
had ensured the internal cohesiveness of the organization’s structural hi-
erarchy in the face of the Mubarak regime’s repressive policies. On the
other side, the accommodationist-reformers like Abul Futuh, who had
devoted their activism to the Muslim Brotherhood’s greater participation
in the broader society and state institutions, were becoming increasingly
marginalized and discredited due to the government’s crackdown on their
activities during this period. The 1990 elections boycott was followed by
the failure of any out of 170 candidates fielded by the Muslim Brother-
hood to be elected to the parliament in 1995, presumably due to fraud on
the part of the regime.
Epilogue 227
In fact, the developments during that year proved to be critical to the

recent history of the Muslim Brotherhood. The regime’s decision to di-
minish the Islamic movement’s presence in the public sphere extended
beyond their exclusion from parliament. That year, the state security ap-
paratus led a widespread crackdown on the organization, arresting and
imprisoning hundreds of its members, seizing their assets, and subject-
ing its leaders to high-profile military tribunals. As one of the leading
defendants in the trial, al-Shater was charged with a series of crimes,
including, “creating an organizational structure throughout the governor-
ates of the Republic and conducting secret meetings in which they pro-
fessed principles contrary to the constitution,” as well as “admitting a new
generation of members after indoctrinating them in these principles . . .
and creating the organizational hierarchy, including what is called the
‘Organizational Consultative Assembly,’ tasked with issuing orders and
providing the financial means to accomplish the group’s goals.”9
For his role in being a chief organizer and financial officer within
the Muslim Brotherhood, al-Shater was convicted and imprisoned by the
military court, along with dozens of other group leaders. The case sent
shock waves throughout the organization, not only because it effectively
paralyzed its activities, at least in the short term, but because it also re-
vealed the extent to which the state security apparatus had successfully in-
filtrated the Muslim Brotherhood and exposed its inner workings. From
the perspective of rank-and-file members and lower level leaders like
Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi, who was himself named as a defendant in
the case, the trial divulged organizational tactics and a decision-making
process that was unknown to the members themselves, bringing to light
years of doubts and frustrations about the Muslim Brotherhood’s broader
strategy.10
This internal fissure undoubtedly played a role in another major de-
velopment during the same year, the establishment of Hizb al-Wasat,
the Centrist Party. In late 1995, Abul ‘Ela Madi entered discussions with
other Muslim Brotherhood members about the possibility of leaving the
organization to found a political party to compete in the Egyptian politi-
cal process. Several weeks later, the group declared the formation of the
party as a centrist Islamic alternative that was open to all Egyptians. In
response, the general guide at that time, Ma’mun al-Hudaybi, requested
the resignations of all members who chose to join the new party. A total
of forty-six members did so. Although it did not include large numbers
from the group’s ranks, this signaled the most high-profile exodus from
the Muslim Brotherhood in nearly four decades. The significance of this

event also lay in the fact that it reflected an explicit rejection of the Muslim
Brotherhood’s organizational structure and operation, as opposed to its
ideology. For all its emphasis on its moderate Islamist mission, al-Wasat
Party did not depart much from the Muslim Brotherhood’s intellec-
tual school, relying on luminary figures such as Sheikhs Muhammad
al-Ghazali and Yousuf al-Qaradawi as the basis for the party’s Islamic
reference.
The formation of al-Wasat Party brought back to the surface internal
debates that had been at the heart of the Muslim Brotherhood’s reconsti-
tution over two decades earlier.11 It was also a sign of things to come, as
these same issues were to be revisited in the months before and imme-
diately after Egypt’s 2011 uprising. To be sure, although the emergence
of two distinct camps within the Muslim Brotherhood was the primary
development during the two decades preceding Mubarak’s overthrow, the
high degree of overlap across their approaches to activism prevented that
fissure from resulting in an outright split. The conservatives approached
the questions of engagement in society and confrontation with the regime
far more cautiously than the accommodationists, but in the event that
their political calculations indicated a high probability of success, not only
could the conservatives be counted on to support a particular initiative,
they could be expected to dominate it. This proved to be the pattern in a
number of cases, whether it was the leadership of the professional syndi-
cates or the parliamentary elections.
Though the conservative elements within the Muslim Brotherhood’s
leadership had expressed early misgivings about competing for the lead-
ership of the professional syndicates, as it became apparent that the
group could be expected to make considerable gains, they placed their
active support behind the union elections, and the Guidance Bureau
even handpicked the candidates for a number of key positions. Simi-
larly, ‘Akef’s notable opposition to participation in parliament did not
stand the test of time, as the Muslim Brotherhood made its strongest
ever showing in national elections during his term as general guide. The
historic elections of 2005 not only resulted in the Muslim Brotherhood
taking hold of one-fifth of Egypt’s lower house of parliament, or 88 seats,
but it also solidified the hold of the conservatives over the organization’s
political strategy. As the Muslim Brotherhood’s political activism was
more tightly integrated into the central leadership’s structural hierarchy,
Morsi was selected to head the Parliamentary Committee within the
Epilogue 229
Guidance Bureau, overseeing the electoral strategy as well as the overall

political agenda of the bloc once it was elected to parliament. Other con-
servative leaders from the Guidance Bureau, including Mahmoud ‘Ezzat,
Mahmoud Ghozlan, and Muhammad Badie‘, ‘Akef’s eventual successor
as general guide, also began to play a greater role in the Muslim Brother-
hood’s political engagement.
Meanwhile, in what was considered a nod to the accommodationists by
the Guidance Bureau, ‘Esam al-‘Erian took on a more prominent role in
the organization’s political activities, in some ways becoming the public
face of its campaign to win the votes of the Egyptian people. Aside from
emerging out of the leadership of the student movement of the 1970s,
al-‘Erian also found credibility in his distance from the core members of
the Guidance Bureau, having been elected to the Muslim Brotherhood’s
general Shura Council but never serving within its executive office. On
the other hand, noted student leader and Muslim Brotherhood reformer
Abul Futuh had served in the Guidance Bureau since 1987. But while
his presence provided the appearance that a multiplicity of viewpoints
would be represented within the organization’s highest body, Abul Futuh
was largely ineffective at swaying the leadership on critical matters. Along
with only a few other figures, Abul Futuh was consistently in the minority
in the formulation of the group’s broad strategy, even on matters of con-
tinued public engagement and political participation.
While the Muslim Brotherhood’s 2005 electoral success was initially
credited to the elements within the organization who pushed for greater
civic engagement, internal state security documents released after the
overthrow of Mubarak suggested that it was in fact the conservative lead-
ership who struck a back-room deal with the regime that ensured the
group’s strong showing.12 Once again, the regime’s desire to temper the
demands of the Islamic movement coincided with the pragmatic outlook
favored by the Guidance Bureau.13 Before long, however, Mubarak’s secu-
rity forces launched another crackdown against the group’s top leaders in
2007, disrupting the internal organization and leading to the structural
reshuffling two years later that consolidated the control of the conserva-
tive faction.
By late 2010, the Muslim Brotherhood’s political gains had been en-
tirely turned back, as parliamentary elections saw nearly all independent
candidates defeated in the first round of voting, reportedly due to voter
intimidation and fraud.14 Rather than being upstaged by the Mubarak re-
gime’s electoral sweep, the Guidance Bureau made the determination to
boycott the second round of the elections, effectively ending its recent run
of successful political engagement, while also evading any direct confron-
tation with the regime. This decision was highly unpopular among the
reformist wing of the Muslim Brotherhood, and the emerging fault line
was exposed with the launch of the January 25, 2011, uprising.
Seemingly overnight, the internal conflicts brewing within the Muslim
Brotherhood’s organizational hierarchy for nearly three decades surfaced
in the shadow of Egypt’s largest ever mass protest movement. Led by a
number of youth groups and civic organizations, the January 25 protests
were the culmination of years of popular activism against the Mubarak
regime’s worst excesses, from economic exploitation and political corrup-
tion to police abuse, indefinite detentions, and torture. Throughout this
burgeoning era of protest, the Muslim Brotherhood engaged the broad-
based movement at only a peripheral level, through prominent figures
such as Abul Futuh as well as the younger cadre of members.
Therefore, it came as no surprise when the Guidance Bureau refused
to endorse the January 25 protests in a private meeting four days ear-
lier.15 Though this decision was reportedly based in part on the fear of
retribution from state security officials, it was also in line with previous
precedents set by the conservative leadership.16 Nevertheless, the General
Guide did not bar members from participating on an individual basis.
This decision not only allowed a large contingent of Muslim Brotherhood
youth to join their peers from other movements in Tahrir Square, it also
paved the way for Abul Futuh, one of only a small number of high-profile
Muslim Brotherhood figures who participated in the protest during its
initial stages, to set himself apart from the organization.
It was only two days later, on January 27, in a move that reflected its
pragmatic character, that the Guidance Bureau reversed course and put its
full weight behind the popular protest that quickly expended in strength
and scope the following day, dubbed the Day of Rage by the youth orga-
nizers. When the “Battle of Camel” occurred on February 2, the Muslim
Brotherhood was poised to withstand the violent assaults on protesters by
state security forces and armed thugs due to its organizational capacity
and strict discipline across its ranks.
That institutional unity would not survive the final days of the up-
rising, however. The Guidance Bureau faced considerable backlash from
younger members for its decision to engage in discussions with ‘Umar
Suleiman, Mubarak’s intelligence chief and hastily appointed vice presi-
dent. In the final week of his rule, Mubarak aimed to reach an agreement
Epilogue 231
with the leading opposition figures with the hopes of remaining in power,
while the Muslim Brotherhood’s leadership appeared to be hedging its
bets in the event that the protest movement failed to remove Mubarak. In
a sign of things to come, the Muslim Brotherhood was, on the one hand,
preserving its limited political gains within the closed system of Egypt’s
authoritarian regime, while also seeking to overthrow that very same
dictatorship. It was only the determination of the Muslim Brotherhood
youth in Tahrir Square, backed by the influential voice of Abul Futuh, that
forced the organization’s leadership to back down from a tentative deal
with Suleiman that would have seen the Muslim Brotherhood withdraw
from the protests in exchange for official recognition by the regime.
Less than two weeks after Mubarak’s fall, the Muslim Brotherhood an-
nounced the launch of its political arm, Hizb al-Hurriyya wa al-‘Adala, the
Freedom and Justice Party (FJP). That the new party was an extension of
the Guidance Bureau, and its conservative leadership was clear from the
start. Morsi was named its president, while Sa‘ad al-Katatni, previously
the head of the Muslim Brotherhood’s parliamentary bloc, was selected to
be the party’s secretary-general. Along with ‘Esam al-‘Erian, who had only
recently joined the Guidance Bureau but was now committed to establish-
ing its political arm, all three had to step down formally from their posts
within the Muslim Brotherhood’s governing body. But the distinction be-
tween the mother organization and the FJP remained nebulous. From his
position as deputy general guide, al-Shater exerted tremendous influence
over the political party in its initial stages. All Muslim Brotherhood mem-
bers were instructed to join the FJP and to support its official position in
ballot initiatives and its candidates during the parliamentary elections.
The successful bid by the conservative camp to dominate the Muslim
Brotherhood’s foray into electoral politics was a process three decades in
the making. However, the radically altered conditions of Egypt’s post-
authoritarian political landscape ensured that long-standing internal
divisions would finally boil to the surface. In defiance of the senior leader-
ship’s attempts to control their political preferences, a contingent of youth
activists, led by Islam Lotfi, ‘Abd al-Rahman Khalil, and Muhammad
‘Abbas, announced the establishment of their own party. In sharp con-
trast to the FJP, al-Tayar al-Masri (the Egyptian Current) was open to all
Egyptians, declared itself in favor of all of the tenets of the revolution, and
did not style itself as Islamic in orientation. For their blatant disregard of
the organization’s directives, the Egyptian Current’s founding members
were expelled from the Muslim Brotherhood.
This was not to be the only exodus from the organization. Over the
ensuing months, the Muslim Brotherhood’s long-standing internal divi-
sions resulted in the departure or expulsion of a number of high-profile
figures, most of them former representatives of the 1970s student move-
ment. Less than three months after Mubarak’s overthrow, Abul Futuh an-
nounced his candidacy for Egypt’s first free presidential election. As the
FJP had previously declared that it would not challenge for the presidency,
Abul Futuh intended to run as an independent and sought to appeal to a
wide swath of the Egyptian public, not only those with sympathies toward
the Muslim Brotherhood. For its part, not only did the Guidance Bureau
disavow Abul Futuh’s candidacy, it reportedly barred Muslim Brother-
hood members from participating in his campaign.17 Having already
been dismissed from the organization’s leadership following the 2009 in-
ternal elections, Abul Futuh’s split from the Muslim Brotherhood became
a mere formality in the aftermath of the 2011 uprising, but his expul-
sion came as a direct order from the general guide himself, Muhammad
Badie‘.18
In an obvious reference to Abul Futuh’s candidacy, former General
Guide ‘Akef told the Egyptian press, “whoever wants to nominate himself
can do so, but we are not endorsing anyone. We have our election lists and
our internal principles to guide us and whoever does not abide by them
will not remain one of us.”19 For his part, Abul Futuh continued to iden-
tify himself with the guiding mission of the Muslim Brotherhood, and
reserved his disagreements to operational and policy matters.
In an April 2011 resignation letter addressed to the general guide, Ibra-
him al-Za‘farani affirmed that he saw no choice but to chart a separate
course from the organization to which he had committed more than four
decades of his life. Having served within the Consultative Assembly in
Alexandria since the end of his student days, Za‘farani had emerged as
a reformist figure within the Muslim Brotherhood and was vocal in his
condemnation of the 2009 electoral process that saw a major shift in the
Guidance Bureau’s makeup, followed by the election of Badie‘ as general
guide just months later. In his view, the pressure brought to bear on high-
ranking members during the elections ensured the total consolidation of
power within the Guidance Bureau in the hands of the conservatives. At a
time when most youth members and reformist leaders desired greater en-
gagement with society and the broader opposition movement, Za‘farani
believed this core group of leaders was focused on narrow political gains at
the expense of the organization’s guiding mission, something that would
Epilogue 233
become more costly in the post-Mubarak environment. He wrote, “after

the 25 January revolution, I did not see any real change and there were
signs that in my view showed the inability to keep the party separate from
the work of da‘wa, instruction, and social activism. When the Guidance
Bureau appointed its members to the leadership of the party, in the pro-
cess filling it with members of the tanzim of the Muslim Brotherhood.”20
Furthermore, in his resignation letter Za‘farani complained that the
leadership’s decision to prevent members from participating in any politi-
cal party except the FJP “denies members of the Brotherhood the ability to
assimilate into society.”21 In the days that followed, Za‘farani announced
the launch of Hizb al-Nahda (the Renaissance Party), an independent po-
litical party focused on a program of economic and social development for
Egypt. The new party was quick to criticize what its leader perceived as
the lack of vision in the FJP’s political program.22 Along with at least ten
other junior leaders, joining Za‘farani was another high-profile departure
from the ranks of the Muslim Brotherhood’s leadership, former Deputy
General Guide Muhammad Habib. Having lost his seat in the Guidance
Bureau in the recent internal elections, Habib also raised questions re-
garding the subsequent rise of Badie‘ to the position of general guide,
charging that the Muslim Brotherhood’s new leader was “selected and not
elected.”23
Other significant departures from the Muslim Brotherhood during
the political organization phase of post-uprising included Haitham Abu
Khalil and Khaled Dawud, founders of Hizb al-Riyada (the Pioneer Party),
Mustafa al-Naggar, founder of Hizb al-‘Adl (the Justice Party), and Hamid
al-Difrawi, a reformist Muslim Brotherhood leader who left to establish
Hizb al-Islah wal-Tanmiya (the Reform and Development Party). All told,
in advance of the 2011 parliamentary elections, the Muslim Brotherhood’s
FJP had to contend with at least half a dozen parties established by former
members, not including the rising number of Islamically oriented parties
representing other trends such as the Salafis and the reformed jihadist
groups.
From the standpoint of the Muslim Brotherhood, the subsequent
months would prove what its most conservative elements had argued all
along: namely, that strong organization and a disciplined structural hier-
archy play a more decisive role than an open, all-inclusive approach that
may have more broad appeal within society. The gains by Muslim Broth-
erhood offshoot parties—including the long established al-Wasat Party—
were negligible when compared to the dominance demonstrated by the
FJP during all four stages of voting. The Muslim Brotherhood’s coalition,
the Democratic Alliance for Egypt, won 37.5 percent of the votes cast for
the People’s Assembly in late 2011, yielding a commanding 45 percent,
or 226 seats in the lower house of parliament, of which all but 10 were
representatives of the FJP.
Demonstrating its newfound political capital, built on years of devel-
oping strong social networks across Egypt, the Salafist coalition received
27.5 percent of votes and one-quarter of the available seats in parliament.
Led by Hizb al-Nour (Party of the Light), the Salafi movement proved
almost as adept at mobilizing its supporters to participate in the elections
as had the Muslim Brotherhood. In fact, the movements shared common
roots, having emerged out of the 1970s student movement that yielded,
along with a reconstituted Muslim Brotherhood, the movement based out
of Alexandria known as al-Da‘wa al-Salafiyya (the Salafi Call). ‘Emad ‘Abd
al-Ghaffour, the first head of al-Nour Party, was a veteran of the debates
on Islam and society that permeated Egypt’s university campuses into the
early 1980s.
A junior partner in the Salafi coalition, Hizb al-Bina’ wa-al-Tanmiya
(the Building and Development Party), was a direct offshoot of al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya, the group that maintained the name that defined the 1970s
student movement long after the bulk of its members had formally left to
join the Muslim Brotherhood. The remaining members had distinguished
themselves from their peers through their rejection of the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s da‘wa mission and political engagement in favor of direct con-
frontation with the regime, leading to the pursuit and imprisonment of
its leadership. One such leader, ‘Abbud al-Zumur, who was convicted of
plotting the Sadat assassination, emerged as one of the heads of the Build-
ing and Development Party following his release from prison in March
2011, renunciation of militant action, and embrace of democratic politics.
A year after the dictator’s overthrow, the emerging post-Mubarak polit-
ical order appeared to signal a convergence of the mode of activism chosen
by a broad swath of the Islamic movement for the first time in modern
Egyptian history. The Muslim Brotherhood, its reformist offshoot groups,
the Salafis, and the so-called reformed jihadists had all adopted party poli-
tics and democratic competition as the basis of their activism. The fiery
debates that raged among student leaders in the late 1970s concerning
the viability of broad social outreach and engagement with state institu-
tions had resulted in a consensus on political participation as the primary
vehicle for the fulfillment of the Islamic mission.
Epilogue 235
Not surprisingly, the parties representing the groups with the stron-
gest internal structure and mechanisms for mobilization were by far the
most successful during the elections. In contrast, the smaller parties
made little to no gains in terms of actual representation. With the excep-
tion of the lone seat won by al-Naggar not on behalf of his Justice Party,
but as an individual contested seat in a Cairo district, none of the new
Muslim Brotherhood offshoots received any representation in the new
Egyptian parliament. Even al-Wasat Party, with its decade and a half of ex-
perience in political organization, could only muster nine seats. Similarly,
the Building and Development Party gained thirteen seats only through
the strong showing by its main coalition partner, al-Nour Party.
These trends would carry forward into the next major political develop-
ment in Egypt following the uprising, one that also was dominated by the
1970s student generation. Egypt’s first free presidential election held tre-
mendous symbolism for the sheer fact that it was to replace six decades of
authoritarian rule with a popularly elected and democratically accountable
president. Moreover, indications that the Supreme Constitutional Court
intended to dissolve the elected parliament on technical grounds placed
even greater weight on the outcome of the presidential elections.24 In fact,
it is in part under this pretext that the Muslim Brotherhood reversed its
long-standing decision not to field a candidate for the presidential election
when it announced in March 2012 that it planned to contest the race for
Egypt’s highest office.
As the qualification process threatened to exclude a number of high-
profile candidates, from popular Islamist Hazem Salah Abu Isma‘il to
Mubarak-era intelligence chief Omar Suleiman, the Muslim Brother-
hood’s Guidance Bureau put forward not one but two candidates of its
own. Its choice of the increasingly visible al-Shater and FJP party head
Morsi as his backup reflected the group’s preference for candidates with
strong internal links to the organizational hierarchy. For a national elec-
tion that demanded a strong candidate who exhibited wide appeal across
the breadth of Egyptian society, this was a bold choice and a calculated
risk on the part of the Muslim Brotherhood.
After Egyptians voted overwhelmingly with the Islamists in the na-
tional referendum and parliamentary elections, the election of a presi-
dential candidate who represented that ideological trend appeared highly
likely. Following the disqualification of Abu Isma‘il and al-Shater by the
Presidential Election Commission, the path to the presidency lay open
before two candidates who symbolized the internal struggle within the
Muslim Brotherhood during the last three decades. Moving quickly to

shed the “spare tire” image that beset him upon becoming his organi-
zation’s second-choice candidate, Morsi set about to demonstrate that he
was not merely the tool of the general guide or even al-Shater, the alleged
orchestrator of the Muslim Brotherhood’s mobilization strategy.
On the other side, as Abul Futuh’s campaign was in full swing follow-
ing the declaration of his candidacy over a year earlier, the pieces were
beginning to fall into place. Not only had he earned the endorsement of
virtually all Islamist groups who were disillusioned with the dominance
of the Muslim Brotherhood, including the Salafis, the reformed jihad-
ists, al-Wasat Party, and the other Muslim Brotherhood offshoots, he also
gained support from liberal, leftist, and revolutionary youth groups. Bill-
ing himself as the “consensus candidate,” Abul Futuh believed that not
only would he appeal widely to all elements of Egyptian society, but that
even the Muslim Brotherhood’s rank and file members would support his
candidacy.25
In addition to developing an electoral platform premised on rebuild-
ing Egypt’s economic capabilities, securing the hard-won freedoms of its
citizens, and ensuring the country’s regional and international indepen-
dence, Abul Futuh also spent considerable time elucidating his legacy as
a student leader and his decades as a Muslim Brotherhood activist. His
famous 1977 televised confrontation with Anwar al-Sadat found new life
on YouTube, as Abul Futuh’s fiery protestations to an authoritarian ruler
resonated with a younger generation of Egyptians.
Indeed, the legacy of this era took center stage during one of the most
high-profile events of the campaign, a televised debate between two presi-
dential front runners, Abul Futuh and former Mubarak foreign minis-
ter and Arab League secretary Amr Moussa. During the course of their
heated exchange, Moussa took Abul Futuh to task for everything from
his decades of service on the Muslim Brotherhood’s Guidance Bureau
to his student leadership days with al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya. On the latter
point, Moussa conflated the earlier period of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya’s ac-
tivism as a student group with the incidents of violence associated with
the organization’s branches in upper Egypt following its split from the
mainstream movement and long after Abul Futuh had left it to join the
Muslim Brotherhood. Moussa even went so far as to read a selected quo-
tation from Abul Futuh’s memoir in which he purportedly endorsed vio-
lence as a tactic during his youth. In his response, Abul Futuh appeared to
equivocate on the question, claiming the line was taken out of context and
Epilogue 237
misattributed. In the text itself, Abul Futuh repeatedly espoused the vir-
tues of the 1970s era, marked by its lack of rigid ideological divisions and
free-flowing discussions about approaches to Islamic activism. But the
demands of a contemporary political campaign left no room for a nuanced
outlook on the spirited and spontaneous nature of the student movement
of a bygone era.
Similarly, Moussa played upon traditional tropes and growing fears
of the Muslim Brotherhood when he asked Abul Futuh about the oath of
allegiance that all group members must give to the general guide. Such a
commitment, Moussa suggested, would mean that Egypt was in danger
of electing a president whose loyalties were to a particular group, not the
nation as a whole. Perhaps more alarmingly, such a president would take
his marching orders from an unelected figure who was unaccountable to
the Egyptian people. Abul Futuh seemed to acknowledge these concerns,
but dissociated himself from them by affirming his resignation from the
Muslim Brotherhood over one year earlier, and emphasizing the support
he received from all corners of Egyptian society.
What was unstated but implicit in Abul Futuh’s handling of the ques-
tions surrounding his historical and present relationship with the Muslim
Brotherhood throughout the campaign was the decades-long conflict that
had been simmering beneath the surface. Careful not to alienate potential
supporters from within the organization, especially its youthful base that
had supported him for years, Abul Futuh frequently lauded the achieve-
ments and sacrifices of the Muslim Brotherhood and the contributions it
had made to Egyptian society. His decision to leave the organization in
order to run for president as an independent candidate was a personal
choice, he emphasized, and not reflective of any deep disagreements with
the organization that shaped his intellectual outlook. Even his critique
was measured. “The Muslim Brotherhood is a school that every Islamic
activist should go through,” he stated. “But eventually, one graduates
from school.”26 This statement actively captures the essence of the divi-
sion within the Muslim Brotherhood, defined not by ideological differ-
ences but organizational ones.
In fact, the ensuing drama surrounding the presidential elections best
embodies the deepening divisions within the Muslim Brotherhood. After
declaring that it would not run a candidate, and even publicly condemn-
ing Abul Futuh and eventually casting him out of the organization for
his decision to compete for the presidency in spring 2011, the Guidance
Bureau reversed course a year later. Rather than getting behind Abul
Futuh’s campaign, which had gained significant momentum by that

time, the group leadership fielded its own internal candidate, known for
his deep loyalty and ability to follow orders. Moreover, the FJP focused its
voter mobilization and media strategy on marginalizing Abul Futuh.
This strategy, coupled with the internal weaknesses of the Abul Futuh
campaign, resulted in a smashing success for the Muslim Brotherhood
and a resounding defeat for the independent candidate. When the votes
were tallied following the May 25, 2012 election, the Morsi campaign,
which had only come into being a couple of months earlier, led in the
voting with 5.7 million votes and just under one-quarter of all ballots cast,
even exceeding the support to Ahmed Shafiq, the remnant of the former
regime who effectively mobilized the state apparatus in his favor. Abul
Futuh, on the other hand, came in fourth in the voting, with just over four
million votes and 17.5 percent of total ballots after dark horse Nasserist
candidate Hamdeen Sabahi made a late surge to finish third, capturing
over 20 percent of votes.
The Muslim Brotherhood’s strong showing in the first round and Mor-
si’s eventual victory over Shafiq in the runoff, coupled with Abul F utuh’s
disappointing result, served to clarify a primary point of contention that
marked the Muslim Brotherhood’s recent history. The inward focus on
building a strong structural hierarchy and enforcing strict discipline
throughout the ranks paid tremendous dividends for the organization,
as seen in its extraordinary ability to mobilize supporters consistently for
the two years after the uprising. The reformist approach pursued by Abul
Futuh and others may have appealed to a wider swath of Egyptians, but it
failed to materialize the support necessary for success within the limits
set by Egypt’s emerging political order.
In the short term, the remarkable achievements by the Muslim Broth-
erhood appeared to support the arguments long made by its increasingly
conservative leadership. No organization without a strong internal struc-
ture could have survived the authoritarianism of the Mubarak era and
hope to contend for political power in its wake. In the long term, how-
ever, the results of this approach are far from certain. If the short-lived
Morsi presidency was any indication, the Muslim Brotherhood’s supposed
strengths during the authoritarian era emerged as the cause of its undo-
ing at the dawn of Egypt’s democratic moment. Having consolidated the
Muslim Brotherhood’s electoral gains by winning Egypt’s highest office,
Morsi faced the monumental task of fulfilling the demands of the revolu-
tion against the increasingly resilient remnants of the former regime. Not
Epilogue 239
only did Morsi prove unequal to the task, but the Muslim Brotherhood’s
exclusivity, a hallmark of its conservative leadership, was now on display
for the entire nation. Within months of taking office, Morsi had alienated
all elements of the revolutionary factions and political opposition within
Egypt.
Preferring to maintain its narrow political gains, the Muslim Broth-
erhood’s leadership aimed to avert an all-out conflict with a regime that
remained very much in control of many of the state’s most powerful in-
stitutions, including the state security apparatus that had tormented the
movement for over half a century. On the other end, the fragmented and
disorganized political factions rallied around their opposition to Morsi’s
mishandling of the revolutionary demands and his increasingly auto-
cratic behavior, embodied in a November 2012 presidential decree that
included a provision granting him legislative and executive powers that
were not subject to judicial oversight. Coupled with the dire economic
situation, continuing lack of security in parts of the country, and a mount-
ing media campaign aimed at delegitimizing the Morsi government, the
picture looked increasingly bleak for the Muslim Brotherhood barely a
year into its experiment with governance.
When the military, led by Minister of Defense ‘Abd al-Fattah al-Sisi,
stepped in to remove Morsi from office on July 3, 2013, it did so to the
cheers of many Egyptians who preferred a return to military rule over
a democratic transition led by an exclusivist social movement organiza-
tion. By then, there was little that the Muslim Brotherhood and its sup-
porters could do but lodge their protests at this assault on the legitimacy
of the elected president. By mid-August, as security forces stepped in to
break up the sit-ins at Rab‘aa al-‘Adawiyya and al-Nahda squares, over a
thousand civilians were killed in the most violent show of force by the
Egyptian state in modern history. Along with Morsi, virtually the entire
leadership of the Muslim Brotherhood and the FJP were arrested and
charged with a litany of crimes that included murder, treason, and in-
citement. In the months that followed, the Muslim Brotherhood’s sup-
porters were subjected to continued violent crackdowns and detentions.
The group’s assets were seized, its media shut down, and its activities
curtailed. Even its charitable associations and social service institutions,
long left untouched by Mubarak, were closed. In a move that recalled the
total repression of the 1950s, by January 2014, the interim government
that took power after the military coup had declared the Muslim Brother-
hood an outlawed group.
It took over two decades for the group to recover from the repression
of the Nasser era. This time, however, the Muslim Brotherhood has the
added benefit of that experience. With its leadership reeling from the total
war policy pursued by Sisi, the Muslim Brotherhood faces the long-term
challenge of reconciling the competing approaches to Islamic activism
that have characterized its development over the course of the preceding
three decades. The post-uprising exodus of a number of key reformers,
along with the alarming rate at which it became isolated from society even
after repeated electoral victories, are indicative of the fact that the organi-
zation must adapt to the new challenges confronting its activist mission.
In the face of nearly unprecedented external pressures stemming from
the new political reality, internal self-reflection is a difficult but necessary
task. As much as the leadership viewed structural continuity and inter-
nal stability as markers for the group’s ability to survive periodic bouts
with repression, the rapid unraveling of the Morsi presidency revealed
an even greater need to engage with broader segments of society and to
pursue a more fluid and open model of Islamic activism. As its leaders
find themselves in the all-too-familiar position of outlawed opposition,
the longstanding struggle between elements grasping onto the group’s
structural integrity and those urging for change in the Muslim Brother-
hood’s outlook toward Egyptian society will continue to define the pursuit
of its historic mission therein.
Notes
f or e w or d
1. Richard P. Mitchell, The Society of the Muslim Brothers, reprint edition (New
York: Oxford University Press, 1993), xiii–xiv.
2. Saad Eddin Ibrahim, “Anatomy of Egypt’s Militant Islamic Groups: Method-
ological Note and Preliminary Findings,” International Journal of Middle East
Studies 12, No. 4, December 1980, 448.
3. Anna Jerome, “What Underlies Resurgence of Egypt’s Militant Islamic
Groups,” Christian Science Monitor, April 10, 1980, p. 7.
4. Saad Eddin Ibrahim, “Egypt’s Islamic Militants,” MERIP Reports, No. 103,
February 1982, 10.
5. Carrie Rosefsky Wickham, The Muslim Brotherhood: Evolution of an Islamist
Movement (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2013), 44.
6. Barbara H. E. Zollner, The Muslim Brotherhood: Hasan al-Hudaybi and Ideol-
ogy (London: Routledge, 2009), 3.
7. Gilles Kepel, Muslim Extremism in Egypt: The Prophet and Pharaoh (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1986), 128.
8. Zulkifly Abdul Malek, “From Cairo to Kuala Lumpur: The Influence of the
Muslim Brotherhood on the Muslim Youth Movement of Malaysia (ABIM),”
(master’s thesis, Georgetown University, 2011), 38–39.
9. John L. Esposito and John O. Voll, Makers of Contemporary Islam (New York:
Oxford University Press, 2001), 109.
i n t r oduc t ion
1. ‘Umar al-Tilmisani, Ayyam Ma‘a al-Sadat (Cairo: Dar al-I‘tisam, 1984), p. 102.
2. Interview with Muhammad ‘Abd al-Quddus.
3. Tilmisani, p. 102.
242 Notes to Pages 4–6
4. Some prominent examples include: Kurshid Ahmad, Islamic Resurgence:

Challenges, Directions and Future Perspectives: A Roundtable with Kurshid
Ahmad (Tampa: WISE, 1994); Hillal Dessouki, ed., Islamic Resurgence in
the Arab World (New York: Praeger, 1982); John Esposito, Voices of Resurgent
Islam (New York: Oxford University Press, 1983); John Voll, Islam: Continuity
and Change in the Modern World (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1994);
Emmanuel Sivan, in James P. Jankowski and Israel Gershoni, ed., Rethinking
Nationalism in the Arab Middle East (New York: Columbia University Press,
1997); Bassam Tibi, The Challenge of Fundamentalism: Political Islam and
the New World Disorder (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002).
5. An example of this is the classical study by Daniel Lerner, The Passing of Tra-
ditional Society: Modernizing the Middle East (Illinois: Free Press, 1958).
6. Particularly emblematic of this trend was the 1990 article by Bernard Lewis in
the Atlantic, entitled “The Roots of Muslim Rage.”
7. Examples of this literature include: Gilles Kepel, Jihad: The Trail of Politi-
cal Islam (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2002); Bassam Tibi,
The Challenge of Fundamentalism: Political Islam and the New World Disorder
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998); John L. Esposito and John O.
Voll, Islam and Democracy (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996).
8. Examples include: Olivier Roy, The Failure of Political Islam (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1994.
9. Examples of this trend include the works by Bernard Lewis, What Went Wrong:
Western Impact and Middle Eastern Response (New York: Oxford University
Press, 2002); and The Crisis of Islam: Holy War and Unholy Terror (New York:
Modern Library, 2003).
10. This includes Quintan Wiktorowicz, ed., Islamic Activism: A Social Movement
Theory Approach. (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2004); Carrie
Rosefsky Wickham, Mobilizing Islam: Religion, Activism, and Political Change
in Egypt (New York: Columbia University Press, 2002);
Janine A. Clark, Islam, Charity, and Activism: Middle-class Networks and
Social Welfare in Egypt, Jordan, and Yemen (Bloomington: Indiana University
Press, 2004); and Ziad Munson, “Islamic Mobilization: Social Movement
Theory and the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood,” Sociological Quarterly 42, No.
4, 2001, pp. 487–510.
11. Doug McAdam, John D. McCarthy, and Mayer N. Zald, eds., Comparative Per-
spectives on Social Movements: Political Opportunities, Mobilizing Structures,
and Cultural Framings (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1996), p. 3.
12. Within the realm of the state, political opportunities are created in a number
of ways, including the following: (1) opening access to participation for new
actors; (2) political realignment within the polity; (3) the appearance of influ-
ential allies; (4) emerging splits within the elites; and (5) decline in the state’s
capacity or will to repress dissent. In Sidney Tarrow, Power in Movement: Social
Notes to Pages 6–10 243
Movements and Contentious Politics (New York: Cambridge University Press,

1998), p. 76.
13. McAdam et al. p. 3.
14. Charles Tilly. And Sidney Tarrow, Contentious Politics (Boulder: Paradigm
Publishers, 2007), p. 8.
15. Wiktorowicz, pp. 10–12.
16. Ibid., pp. 12–13.
17. McAdam et al., p. 6.
18. David A. Snow. And Robert D. Benford, “Ideology, Frame Resonance, and
Participant Mobilization,” in Bert Klandermans, ed., From Structure to Action:
Comparing Movement Participation across Cultures, International Social Move-
ment, International Social Movement Research, Vol. 1, 1988.
19. The literature on framing is not free from criticism. Wiktorowicz stated that
the frame is an important interpretive device, though its explanatory func-
tion is limited. Wickham concluded her study of the contemporary Muslim
Brotherhood by challenging the rationalist assumptions of the theory, given
its problematic nature in the case of religious frame creation in Egypt. “The
promotion of a new ethic of civic obligation differs profoundly from a more
narrow appeal to the ‘rational’ self-interests of potential recruits. In fact, Is-
lamists called on graduates to struggle against the natural human inclination
to seek pleasure, wealth, and power.” Wickham, p. 147 Wiktorowicz, p. 19.
20. Harris contended that the movement failed because it did not appeal to
Western-educated Egyptians with its traditional rhetoric. Christina Phelps
Harris, Nationalism and Revolution in Egypt: The Role of the Muslim Brother-
hood (The Hague: Mouton, 1964).
21. L. Carl Brown, The Society of the Muslim Brothers by Richard P. Mitchell, Re-
viewed in Journal of Interdisciplinary History, Vol. 2, No. 3. Winter 1972, p. 344.
22. Ibid. p. 345.
23. For instance: John Esposito, The Islamic Threat: Myth of Reality? (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1999).
24. Emmanuel Sivan, Radical Islam: Medieval Theology and Modern Politics (New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1985).
25. Shepard included both the militant organizations and the mainstream mod-
erates under the category of “radical Islamism.” Though their methods may
differ, he contended that they ultimately aspire toward the same goal: “More
than others, the radical Islamists emphasize the urgency of putting the Shari‘a
into practice. It is not only an ideal to be known and revered, but a law to be put
into effect and obeyed.” Shepard articulated a typology of intellectual currents
in Egypt that include secularism, Islamic modernism, radical Islamism, tra-
ditionalism, and neo-traditionalism. In William E. Shepard, “Islam and Ideol-
ogy: Toward a Typology,” International Journal of Middle East Studies, Vol. 19,
1987, pp. 307–315.
26. Ibrahim cites the figure of 3,000 to 5,000 arrested by Sadat’s sweeps of radical
groups. Saad Eddin Ibrahim, “Anatomy of Egypt’s Militant Islamic Groups:
Methodological Note and Preliminary Findings,” International Journal of
Middle East Studies, Vol. 12, No. 4, December1980, p. 425.
27. A number of studies endorse the view of a “different” Muslim Brotherhood
through their use of other names to refer to the organization under Tilmisani’s
leadership. Kepel labels it the “neo-Muslim Brethren.” Hinnebusch refers to it
as the “Da‘wa Group,” while Abed-Kotob uses the term “Accommodationists.”
28. Gilles Kepel, Muslim Extremism in Egypt: The Prophet and Pharaoh (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1993).
29. Ibid., p. 128.
30. Davis offered this analysis of the methodology employed in the works ref-
erenced above: “Efforts to gain a deeper understanding of Islamic political
movements require a more systematic historical methodology and a more so-
phisticated understanding of social structure and ideology. The concept of
revival or resurgence of Islam, and its attendant notions of fundamentalism
and Islamic society, work against such an understanding due to their transh-
istorical nature. Likewise, mechanistic attempts to link ideology and social
class in a one-to-one relationship fail to comprehend many of the subtleties
involved in the social mobilization of supporters of Islamic movements and
the manner in which the construction of ideologies can serve to promote
either hegemony or conflict in society.” Eric Davis, in Barbara Stowasser, ed.,
The Islamic Impulse (Washington, DC: Center for Contemporary Arab Studies,
1987), p. 56.
31. John O. Voll, in Yvonne Haddad, John Voll, and John Esposito, eds., The
Contemporary Islamic Revival: A Critical Survey and Bibliography (New York:
Greenwood Press, 1991), p. 26.
32. Richard P. Mitchell, in Stowasser, p. 77.
33. John O. Voll, in Martin E. Marty and R. Scott Appleby, eds., Fundamentalisms
Comprehended (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), p. 373.
34. Ibid. p. 380.
35. Examples of these studies include: William E. Shepard, Sayyid Qutb and Islamic
Activism: A Translation and Critical Analysis of Social Justice in Islam (Leiden,
New York: E. J. Brill, 1996); Brynjar Lia, The Society of the Muslim Brothers
in Egypt (1928–1942) (Reading, England: Ithaca Press, 1998); B arbara H. E.
Zollner, The Muslim Brotherhood: Hasan al-Hudaybi and Ideology (New York:
Routledge, 2009); John Calvert, Sayyid Qutb and the Origins of Radical Islam
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2010); Carrie Rosefsky W ickham, The
Muslim Brotherhood: Evolution of an Islamist Movement (Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 2013).
36. Clark’s study of Islamic medical clinics in Egypt provided one such exam-
ple. Utilizing the growing literature on political opportunity structures, she
described the success of Islamic medical clinics as a result of the state’s fail-
ures to provide for its citizens. Clark, p. 75. In her social movement history of
the Muslim Brotherhood through the 1980s, Wickham maintained that the
rise of Islamic activism was not a spontaneous occurrence, but rather a result
of resource mobilization on the part of this elite sector and its ability to frame
its grievances effectively. She developed the concept of lumpen intelligentsia, a
class of ambitious, educated, urbanized, Egyptians who would come to make
up the base of support for the Muslim Brotherhood. In Wickham, p. 37.
37. Charles Tilly, Social Movements, 1768–2004 (Boulder: Paradigm Publishers,
2004), p. 3.
38. Using Tarrow’s definition, social movements are “collective challenges, based
on common purposes and social solidarities, in sustained interaction with
elites, opponents, and authorities.” Tarrow, p. 4.
chap ter 1
1. Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi, The History of the Islamic Movement in the Field
of Education (1933–1993) (Cairo: Maktabat Wahba, 1993).
2. Raymond William Baker, Egypt’s Uncertain Revolution under Nasser and Sadat.
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1978), pp. 119–122.
3. Baker, p. 26.
4. Richard P. Mitchell, The Society of the Muslim Brothers (New York: Oxford Uni-
versity Press, 1969), p. 96.
5. Ibid., p. 97.
6. Ibid.
7. Anwar El-Sadat, Revolt on the Nile (New York: The John Day Company, 1957),
p. 29.
8. Ibid., p. 30.
9. Ibid., p. 92.
10. Ibid., p. 111
11. Ibid.
12. Mitchell, p. 100.
13. Ibid., pp. 101–104.
14. See Mitchell. See also Joel Gordon, Nasser’s Blessed Movement: Egypt’s Free
O fficers and the July Revolution (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992); and
Barbara H. E. Zollner, The Muslim Brotherhood: Hasan al-Hudaybi and Ideol-
ogy (New York: Routledge, 2009).
15. Mitchell, p. 111.
16. Ibid., p. 133.
ogy (New York: Routledge, 2009), p. 41.
18. Ibid., p. 42
19. Qutb was personally associated with many of the Free Officers and was one of
the only civilians to attend their meetings during the planning stages. Olivier
Carre, Mysticism and Politics: A Critical Reading of Fi Zilal al-Qur’an by Sayyid
Qutb (1906–1966) (Boston: Brill, 2003), p. 7.
20. Sayyid Qutb, “In the Shade of the Qur’an,” in Albert J. Bergesen, ed., The
Sayyid Qutb Reader: Selected Writings on Politics, Religion, and Society (New
York: Routledge, 2008), p. 47.
21. Gilles Kepel, Muslim Extremism in Egypt: The Prophet and the Pharaoh (Berke-
ley: University of California Press, 1993), p. 43.
22. Ibid., p. 46.
23. Ibid., pp. 27–28.
24. Zollner, p. 52.
25. Specifically, the concepts of hakimiyya and jahiliyya as used in a contemporary
context in Mawdudi’s work, informed by his experience in the Indian subcon-
tinent, were adapted by Qutb in his later works. Zollner, p. 53.
26. Sayyid Qutb, Milestones (American Trust Publications: Indianapolis, 1990),
p. 15
27. Haddad, pp. 95–96.
28. Qutb, p. 120.
29. Ibid., p. 134.
30. This practice became known as takfir and was the trademark of a small Is-
lamic movement organization in the 1970s.
31. Sayed Khatab, The Political Thought of Sayyid Qutb: The Theory of Jahiliyyah
(New York: Routledge, 2006), p. 54.
32. Emmanuel Sivan, in Martin E. Marty and R. Scott Appleby, eds., Fundamen-
talisms Comprehended (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), p. 55.
33. Though not officially published until 1977, the book was completed and first
appeared in 1969. Hasan al-Hudaybi, Du‘ah la qudah: Abhath fi al-‘aqidah al-
Islamiyah wa-manhaj al-da‘wah ilá Allah (Cairo: Dar al-Tiba‘ah was-al-Nashr
al-Islamiyah, 1977).
34. Among the names that are mentioned as contributors are: Ma’mum al-
Hudaybi, Mustafa Mashhur, ‘Umar al-Tilmisani (all future general guides),
and Shaykh Hasan Ma’mun, Shaykh Ahmad Muhammad ‘Abd al-‘Al Haridi,
and Shaykh Mahmoud ‘Abd al-Majid (all senior scholars at al-Azhar). Zollner,
pp. 66–69.
35. Ibid., pp. 40–42.
36. Hassan al-Hudaybi, Du‘ah la qudah: Abhath fi al-‘aqidah al-Islamiyah wa-
manhaj al-da‘wah ilá Allah (Cairo: Dar al-Tiba‘ah was-al-Nashr al-Islamiyah,
1977), pp. 8–10.
37. According to Voll, “For Hudaybi and the other old-guard Brotherhood leaders,
the problem was that Egyptians needed to be educated and called to the faith,
not that Egyptians had ceased to be Muslims. Hudaybi rejected the practice
of takfir, thereby rejecting the rationale for active revolution.” John O. Voll, in
Marty and Appleby, p. 373.
38. Joseph S. Szyliowicz, Education and Modernization in the Middle East (Ithaca,
NY: Cornell University Press, 1973), p. 122.
39. Ibid., pp. 122–123.
40. Ibid., p. 182.
41. Ahmed Abdalla, The Student Movement and National Politics in Egypt (1923–
1973) (Cairo: American University of Cairo Press, 2008), p. 24.
42. Szyliowicz, p. 189.
43. Abdalla, p. 40.
44. Ibid., p. 42.
45. Ibid., p. 65.
46. Ibid., pp. 75–77.
47. Ibid., p. 48.
48. Ibid., p. 47. From FO 141, 1077 (1946).
49. Ibid., p. 48.
50. Szyliowicz, p. 196.
51. Ibid., pp. 260–261.
52. Abdalla, p. 101.
53. Ibid., p. 120.
54. Ibid., p. 124.
55. Ibid., pp. 130–131.
56. Ibid., p. 137.
57. Szyliowicz, p. 296. Quoted in Abdalla, p. 140.
58. Wa’il ‘Uthman, Asrar al-Harakah al-Tullabiyyah: Handasat al-Qahira, 1968–
1975, 2nd ed. (2006), Cairo: n.p., p. 25.
59. Ibid., p. 26.
60. Abdalla, pp. 150–151.
61. ‘Uthman, pp. 29–31.
63. Ibid., p. 159.
64. Ibid., p. 174.
65. A prominent example is Fouad Ajami, The Arab Predicament: Arab Politi-
cal Thought and Practice since 1967 (New York: Cambridge University Press,
1992).
66. Abdalla, pp. 174–175. ‘Uthman, pp. 32–33.
chap ter 2
1. Abdalla, p. 129.
2. Interview with ‘Adli Mustafa. And Interview with Wa’il ‘Uthman.
3. ‘Uthman, p. 41.
4. Interview with ‘Uthman.

5. Ibid. And Interview with Mustafa.
6. ‘Uthman, pp. 37–38.
7. Ibid., p. 56.
8. Ibid., p. 41.
9. ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh acknowledged this characterization of al-
Gam‘iyya al-Diniyyaʼs early wall magazines. In Hosam Tammam, ed., ‘Abd
al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh (Cairo: al-Shorouk, 2010), p. 29.
10. ‘Uthman. p. 43.
11. In the wake of the 1969 fire at al-Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem, an attempt by
student leaders to organize a student militia was swiftly and quietly squelched
by the government.
12. Kirk J. Beattie, Egypt during the Sadat Years (New York: Palgrave, 2000), p. 99.
13. ‘Uthman, p. 63.
14. Ibid.
15. Whether this happened before or after the leftist students rejected the agree-
ment is a matter of some dispute. Another factor was the involvement of Stu-
dent Union representatives, who met separately with officials and probably
played an important part in nixing the agreement. ‘Uthman, p. 63. Abdalla,
pp. 180–183. Beattie, p. 100.
17. Abdalla, p. 199; and ‘Uthman, pp. 89–90.
19. Beattie, p. 81.
21. Arab Report and Record, August 16–31, 1971. Cited in Beattie, p, 81.
22. ‘Uthman, p. 115.
23. Ibid. And Interview with Mustafa.
24. ‘Uthman, p. 112.
25. Ibid., p. 114.
26. Shabab al-Islam Press Release No. 3 November, 1972.
27. Shabab al-Islam Press Release No. 4 November, 1972.
28. ‘Uthman, p. 116.
30. Both Mustafa and ‘Uthman stated that they gave no consideration to the re-
gime’s offer. Subsequent events seem to corroborate that account.
31. ‘Uthman, pp. 117–118.
32. Ibid., p. 119.
33. In addition to the Shabab al-Islam leadership, this incident is also referred
to by Sadat confidant Mahmoud Gami‘. In Mahmoud Gami‘, ‘Arift al-Sadat
(Cairo: Maktabat al-Masri al-Jadid, 1998), p. 157.
34. ‘Uthman, p. 90.
35. Mustafa recalled that the fifth individual was likely to have been al-Simari, but
could also have been Muhammad Khalil. Interview with ‘Adli Mustafa.
36. Ibid.
37. Interview with Wa’il ‘Uthman.
38. Ibid. And Interview with ‘Adli Mustafa.
39. ‘Abdalla, p. 200. And ‘Uthman, pp. 89–90.
40. ‘Abdalla, p. 200.
41. Ibid. p. 201.
42. ‘Uthman, p. 94.
44. Interview with ‘Adli Mustafa.
45. Al-Sayyid ‘Azzazi, “A Call for the Unification of the Islamic Movement in the
University,” Wa Islamah, No. 2, April 1975, p. 14.
47. Ibid.
48. Ibid. And Interview with Wa’il ‘Uthman. Additionally, ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul
Futuh confirms the notion of blind allegiance to the leader by the members of
al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya. In Tammam, p. 47.
50. Badr Muhammad Badr, Al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya fi Gami’at Masr (n.p., 1989),
pp. 14–15. And ‘Esam al-‘Erian. al-Ahrar, September 26, 1973.
51. Salwa Muhammad al-‘Awwa. al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya al-Musallaha fi Masr
(1974–2004) (Cairo: Maktabat al-Shuruq al-Duwaliyya, 2006), pp. 73–74.
56. These political opportunities include a range of possible variables, includ-
ing “the level of formal informal access to political institutions and decision-
making, the degree of political system receptivity to challenger groups, the
prevalence of allies and opponents, the stability of the ruling elite coalition,
the nature of state repression, and state institutional capacity.” Quintan Wik-
torowicz, ed., Islamic Activism: A Social Movement Theory Approach (Bloom-
ington: Indiana University Press, 2004), p. 14.
57. Alexis de Tocqueville, The Old Regime and the French Revolution, translated by
Stuart Gilbert (New York: Doubleday Anchor, 1955), pp. 176–177. Quoted in
Sidney Tarrow, Power in Movement: Social Movements and Contentious Politics
(New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998), p. 74.
59. Ibid.
60. Ibid.
chap ter 3
1. ‘Adel Hammoudah, “The Quick Divorce Between Sadat and the Muslim
Brotherhood,” Sabah al-Kheir, No. 1651, August 27, 1987, p. 21.
2. Gilles Kepel. Muslim Extremism in Egypt: The Prophet and Pharaoh (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1993), pp. 62–63. See also: Saad Eddin Ibra-
him, Egypt Islam and Democracy: Critical Essays (Cairo: American University
of Cairo Press, 1996), p. 36.
3. Emmanuel Sivan, Radical Islam: Medieval Theology and Modern Politics (New
York: Yale University Press, 1990), p. x.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid., pp. 21, 27.
6. Ibid., p. ix.
7. ‘Abd al-Hamid Kishk. Quoted in Kepel, p. 189.
8. Charles Hirschkind, The Ethical Soundscape: Cassette Sermons and Islamic
Counterpublics (New York: Columbia University Press, 2006), pp. 58–59.
9. Interview with ‘Esam al-‘Arian. Interview with Abul ‘Ala Madi.
10. Ahmed Ra’if. al-Bawwaba al-Sawda’, (Cairo: al-Zahra’, 1986), p. 247.
11. www.burhaniya.info.
12. Sayed Khatab, The Political Thought of Sayyid Qutb: The Theory of Jahiliyyah
(New York: Routledge, 2006), p. 54.
ogy (New York: Routledge, 2009), pp. 45–46.
14. Ibid., pp. 46–47.
15. Zollner, pp. 46–47. And Kepel, p. 75.
16. Kepel, pp. 75–76.
17. An amendment to the Egyptian constitution passed in 1980, at the height of
heated critiques of Sadat’s policies, further affirmed this desire to represent
Islamic norms in the state, establishing Shari‘a as “the principle source of
legislation.”
18. Anwar al-Sadat. “Message to the Conference of the YMCA in Egypt and Amer-
ica,” March 25, 1976. Anwar Sadat Archives, University of Maryland.
19. Ibid.
20. John L. Esposito, Islam and Politics (New York: Syracuse University Press,
1984), p. 236.
21. Ibid. p. 237.
22. Saad Eddin Ibrahim, Egypt Islam and Democracy: Critical Essays (Cairo: Ameri-
can University of Cairo Press, 1996), p. 3.
23. Kepel, p. 94.
24. After 1967, Nasser released a thousand “least threatening” Muslim Broth-
erhood members. In Bruce K. Rutherford, Egypt after Mubarak: Liberalism,
Islam, and Democracy in the Arab World (Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 2008), p. 82.
25. Kirk J. Beattie, Egypt during the Sadat Years (New York: Palgrave, 2000), p. 81.
26. Ra’if, p. 561.
27. Ibid.
28. Interview with ‘Esam al-‘Erian.
29. Examples of this literature include: Ahmed ‘Abd al-Majid, al-Ikhwan wa ‘Abd
al-Nasir (Cairo: al-Zahra’, 1991). See also: Salah Shadi, Safahat min al-Tarikh
(Cairo: Dar al-Tawzi‘ wal-Nashr al-Islami, 2006). ‘Ali Siddiq, Al-Ikhwan al-
Muslimun: Bayna Irhab Faruq wa ‘Abd al-Nasir (Cairo: Dar al-‘Itisam, 1987).
Jabir Rizq, Madhabih al-Ikhwan fi Sujun ‘Abd al-Nasir (Cairo: Dar al-‘Itisam,
1977). Al-Da‘wa magazine (1976–1981) also contained a regular section detail-
ing the experiences of this period.
30. Kepel, p. 28.
31. Ibrahim, p. 6.
32. Interview with al-‘Erian.
33. Ra’if, pp. 590–591.
34. Interview with ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh.
35. Beattie, pp. 81–82.
36. Ibid., p. 82.
37. Mahmoud Gami‘, ‘Arift al-Sadat (Cairo: Maktabat al-Masri al-Jadid, 1998), p. 189.
38. Anwar El-Sadat, Revolt on the Nile (New York: The John Day Company, 1957),
p. 111.
39. Kepel, p. 105.
41. Interview with Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi.
42. Mahmoud ‘Abd al-Halim, in Hosam Tammam, Tahawulat al-Ikhwan al-Muslimin
(Cairo: Maktabat Madbouli, 2006).
43. Mahmoud ‘Abd al-Halim, Al-Ikhwan al-Muslimun Ahdath Sana‘at al-Tarikh:
Ru’yah min al-Dakhil (Alexandria: Dar al-Da‘wah, 1979), Vols. 1–3.
44. Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi, al-Ikhwan wal-Tanzim al-Sirri (Cairo: Maktabat
Wahba, 2009), p. 51.
45. Ibid.
46. Interview with al-Meligi.
47. In Tammam.
48. ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh, in Hosam Tammam, ed., ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul
Futuh (Cairo: al-Shorouk, 2010), p. 87.
49. According to Ahmed al-Malt. Abul Futuh in Tammam, p. 88.
50. Abul Futuh in Tammam, p. 88.
chap ter 4
1. Hosam Tammam, ed., ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh (Cairo: al-Shorouk, 2010),
p. 60.
2. Ibid., p. 61.
3. Omayma Abdel-Latif, “Abdel-Moneim Abul-Futuh: A Different Kind of Syndi-

calism,” al-Ahram Weekly, No. 743, May 19–25, 2005.
4. Haggai Erlich, Students and University in 20th Century Egyptian Politics
(London: Frank Cass, 1989), p. 203.
5. Ibid., p. 202.
6. Ibid., p. 204.
7. Ibid., p. 202.
8. Abul Futuh recalls the culture shock that he and his friends experienced on
entering Cairo University. In contrast to many of the students already there
who represented the middle and upper classes, he and his friends came from
far more modest backgrounds and could seldom afford to acquire books. In
some instances, they would have to combine their meager allowances in order
to obtain reading materials. In Tammam, p. 29.
9. Erlich. p. 203.
10. Raymond A. Hinnebusch, Jr., Egyptian Politics under Sadat (Boulder: Lynne
Rienner Publishers, 1988), p. 199.
11. Ibid.
12. Interview with ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh.
13. Ibid.
14. Interview with Ibrahim al-Za‘farani.
15. Ibid. In contrast, Abul Futuh stated that his family benefited from Nasser’s
land reforms, with his father and uncles receiving plots of land from the state
“when they previously did not own anything.” In Tammam, p. 21.
16. Hamied Ansari, Egypt: The Stalled Society (Albany: State University of New
York Press, 1986), pp. 184, 195.
17. Interview with Abul Futuh. Interview with Za‘farani. Interview with Gamal
‘Abd al-Salam. Abul Futuh also recalled that in the early stages of the student
movement, “none of us had a particular outlook or a distinct religious vision.
Most of us were religious as a result of our birth and upbringing in a broadly
religious society.” In Tammam, p. 33.
18. Tammam, p. 23.
19. Ibid. pp. 22–23.
20. Ibid.
21. Other notable scholars included Yousuf al-Qaradawi, ‘Abd al-Hamid Kishk,
‘Abd al-Sabur Shahin, Muhammad Mitwalli al-Sha‘rawi, and Ahmad
al-Mahallawi.
22. Tammam, p. 25.
23. Ibid.
24. Ibid.
25. Michael Slackman. “A Poet Whose Political Incorrectness Is a Crime,” New
York Times, May 13, 2006.
26. “Ahmed Fu’ad Negm: The ’67 Defeat Made Me into a Poet,” al-Mu’tamar, June
1, 2007.
27. Ibid.
28. Ibid.
29. Interview with ‘Esam al-‘Erian.
30. Tammam, p. 28.
31. Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi, Tarikh al-Harakah al-Islamiyyah fi Sahat al-
Ta‘lim (1933–1993) (Cairo: Maktabat Wahba, 1993), p. 40.
32. Interview with Za‘farani.
33. Tammam, p. 30. Badr described this meeting as the first official summer
camp of the Islamic student movement, though given the simplicity and disor-
ganized nature of the meeting, in contrast to later camps, this was probably an
overstatement. In Badr Muhammad Badr, Al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya fi Gami‘at
Misr: Haqaiq wa Wathaiq (n.p., 1989), p. 11.
34. Tammam. p.29.
35. Ibid.
36. Ibid. pp. 36–38.
37. Ibid. p. 36.
38. Ibid. p. 33.
39. Badr, p. 23.
40. At ‘Ain Shams University, Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi recalled that the Stu-
dent Union budget for religious activities was limited to 75 Egyptian pounds
annually. As amir of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya at ‘Ain Shams, Meligi would later
participate in union elections, motivated in part by the desire to expand his
group’s access to union funds. In Meligi, p. 42. And Interview with Sayyid
‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi.
41. Tammam, p. 40.
42. According to Abul Futuh, Hasan ‘Abid Rabbo had no knowledge of the arts,
and had never left his small village before coming to Cairo University. This
reflected a widespread view among the youth in the Islamic movement that
the arts had been a tool for spreading immorality and the denigration of the
faith. In Tammam, p. 41.
43. Ibid. p. 48.
44. Ibid. p. 47.
45. Ibid. p. 50.
46. Meligi, p. 44.
47. Tammam, p. 47.
48. Although there was a slight variation in names, the movement at Alexandria
University followed a parallel trajectory. According to Za‘farani, the first re-
ligious organization was titled “Gam‘iyat al-Dirasat al-Diniyya” (Association
of Religious Studies), then it was changed to “al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya” before
settling upon “al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya” after the decision was made at Cairo
University. Interview with Za‘farani.
49. This development occurred during the same time period of the October War,
which was painted in Islamic terms by the political establishment and the
state media. The youth leaders were deeply affected by the cultural swelling
of an Islamically oriented battle for liberation. Interview with al-‘Erian. Inter-
view with Mamduh al-Ridi.
50. Meligi recalled that within months, the name was in use at every university,
and that there had been no objections to its adoption. On the contrary, he
wrote, “It was as though we had been awaiting it.” In Meligi, p. 44.
51. Tammam, p. 49. And Interview with al-‘Erian.
52. Badr, p. 24.
53. Interview with Abul Futuh.
54. Tammam, p. 49.
55. Ibid.
56. Ibid., p. 48.
57. Interview with ‘Abd al-Salam. Incidentally, ‘Awda was the son of ‘Abd a l-Qadir
‘Awda, a prominent Islamic intellectual and Muslim Brotherhood deputy
guide until his arrest, trial, and execution by the Nasser regime in 1954.
59. Ibid.
60. Interview with Abul ‘Ela Madi.
61. Ibid.
62. Meligi asserted that the regime attempted to overturn the gains of al-Gama‘a
al-Islamiyya as early as 1977, intimidating its candidates and promoting ones
more favorable to the regime, such as Mahmoud Tal‘at Jalal, who became pres-
ident of the National Student Union, though he was also sympathetic to the
aims of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya. Regime intrusion obstructed the activities of
the union, until it was nullified outright in 1979. In Meligi, pp. 53–56.
63. Ibid. p. 52.
64. Tammam, p. 52.
65. Badr, p. 13.
66. In Badr, pp. 14–15. In Tammam, p. 55. And ‘Esam al-‘Erian, Untitled article in
al-Ahrar, September 26, 1983.
67. Tammam, p. 55.
68. Badr, pp. 14–15.
69. Ibid., p. 15.
70. Some even leave open the possibility that Shabab al-Islam was the complete
brainchild of Muhammad ‘Uthman Isma‘il. Abul Futuh, in particular, be-
lieves this active creation of a new group occurred only after it became clear
that al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya would not be co-opted by the regime, due to the
principled stance of its leaders and its adversarial political positions v is-à-vis
the Sadat regime. Tammam, pp. 55–56. And Badr, p. 14. Abul Futuh ac-
knowledged that Isma‘il also attempted to coordinate regime efforts with
leaders of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya, but they declined. Interview with Abul
Futuh.
71. Tammam, p. 53.

72. Interview with ‘Abd al-Salam. And Tammam, p. 55.
73. Meligi said as much in his recollection that Abu Talib, Ahmed Kemal Abul
Magd, and Rif‘at al-Mahjoub “reached out secretly to the religious minority of
students.” In Meligi, p. 41.
74. Tammam, p. 56.
75. Ibid., pp. 56–58.
76. Ibid., p. 56.
77. Hinnebusch, p. 70.
78. Badr, p. 19.
79. This period has also been referred to as marhalat al-tarshid, or the guidance
phase. In Meligi, pp. 43–44.
80. Badr, p. 31.
81. Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi wrote that these camps were the “trademark” of
the tarbiya phase. In al-Meligi, p. 49. Abul Futuh stated that they were neces-
sary “to cultivate the leadership of the Islamic student movement in a natural
and spontaneous way.” In Tammam, p. 46.
82. In fact, amirs sought and received official permission from university authori-
ties before organizing the camps on university grounds. In Meligi, pp. 44–45.
83. Ibid. p. 49.
84. Tammam, p. 46.
85. Meligi, p. 50.
86. Badr, p. 34.
87. Interview with ‘Abd al-Salam.
88. Interview with Abul Futuh. And Tammam, pp. 45–46.
89. Interview with Madi.
90. This figure (number of students) appears in a September 26, 1983, article by
‘Esam al-‘Erian in al-Ahrar, cited in Badr, p. 32. The figure (cost of trip) was
relayed by Abul ‘Ela Madi. Interview with Madi. Abul Futuh and ‘Umar each
recalled that it cost them 25 Egyptian pounds. In Tammam, p. 68. And Inter-
view with ‘Umar.
92. Badr, p. 27.
93. Ibid.
94. Ibid. p. 33. Abul Futuh stated that when the tradition began in 1976, 40,000
Egyptians attended the service in Alexandria, led by Sheikh Mahmoud ‘Eid,
and 50,000 attended the service in Cairo, led by Sheikh Yousuf al-Qaradawi.
In Tammam, p. 50.
95. Tammam, p. 29.
96. Ibid. p. 45.
97. Ibid.
99. Interview with Ridi. Also, Interview with Badr.

100. Badr, p. 29.
101. Ibid., p. 34.
102. Ibid., p. 49.
103. Ibid., p. 53.
104. Ibid., pp. 55–57.
105. Interview with Badr.
106. Official efforts to repeal Law 44 of 1979 began with the parliament in 1980
and were completed by judicial decision in 1985. In Amira El-Azhary Sonbol,
The New Mamluks: Egyptian Society and Modern Feudalism (Syracuse: Syra-
cuse University Press, 2000), p. 185. And Dale F. Eickelman and James
Piscatori, Muslim Politics (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1996),
p. 169.
107. Badr, p. 59.
108. Ibid., p. 65.
109. Ibid., pp. 66–67.
110. Ibid., pp. 75–76.
111. Ibid., pp. 76–77.
112. Ibid., p. 80.
113. Tammam, p. 106.
114. Ibid.
115. Ibid., p. 107.
116. Ibid., p. 110.
117. Ibid., p. 111. Additionally, Badr recalled that as early as 1978, students at
other universities were intimidated into withdrawing from elections, usually
through pressure placed on their parents. There were also reports of election
fraud. In Badr, pp. 87–88.
118. Tammam, pp. 111–112. Interview with Badr.
119. Meligi, pp. 55–56.
121. Interview with Abul Futuh. Interview with Madi. In Badr, p. 88.
122. A conference was also held at al-Azhar, which included the participation of
over ten thousand students, in condemnation of the new law governing the
Student Union. In Meligi, pp. 57–62.
123. Badr, p. 73.
124. Ibid., pp. 92–93.
125. Interview with Ahmed ‘Umar.
126. Badr, pp. 87–88. Meligi provided a similar account of regime obstruction of
the national union. In Meligi, pp. 54–56.
127. For example, see Gilles Kepel, Muslim Extremism in Egypt: The Prophet and the
Pharaoh (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993).
chap ter 5
1. ‘Umar al-Tilmisani, Ayyam Ma‘a al-Sadat (Cairo: Dar al-I‘tisam, 1984), p. 34.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid. p. 35.
4. This story is also recounted by Mahmoud Gami‘, a Sadat confidant who sat in
the second row of the event. He recalled that he was “shocked” by the “vicious
attack” against Tilmisani. After the meeting, he reports that Sadat apologized
to Tilmisani and embraced him. In Mahmoud Gami‘, ‘Arift al-Sadat (Cairo:
Maktabat al-Masri al-Jadid, 1998), p. 274.
5. Sadat was contesting the claim made by Muslim Brotherhood leaders that they
were not affiliated with some branches of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya suspected
of militant activities. But that distinction was not made during the speech,
which depicted al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya as a monolithic group, though it had
ceased to be at the time. Anwar al-Sadat. Speech before Egyptian parliament.
September 5, 1981.
p. 67.
7. Ibid., p. 63.
8. Ibid., p. 67.
9. Ibid.
10. Interview with Gamal ‘Abd al-Salam.
11. Tammam, p. 69.
12. Ibid., p. 65.
13. Interview with ‘Esam al-‘Erian. And Interview with Hamid al-Difrawi.
14. Interview with Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi. The same sentiment was ex-
pressed by Hamid al-Difrawi, Badr Muhammad Badr, and ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim
Abul Futuh. Interview with al-Difrawi. Interview with Badr Muhammad
Badr. Interview with Abul Futuh.
15. Interview with Difrawi.
16. Tammam, p. 39.
17. Ibid., p. 40.
18. Interview with Badr. Interview with Ibrahim al-Za‘farani.
19. Abul Futuh claimed that ‘Isa did not explicitly represent himself as a member
of the Muslim Brotherhood, though he stood for their views. In Tammam,
p. 74.
20. Meligi maintained that the early success enjoyed by the Muslim Brotherhood
was due to the youth’s “emotional attachment” to the experiences of the elders.
Interview with Meligi.
21. Tammam, p. 74.
22. Ibid. p. 73.
24. Interview with Kamal Habib.

26. Tammam, p. 79.
27. Ibid. p. 75.
28. Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi, Tarikh al-Harakah al-Islamiyyah fi Sahat
al-Ta‘lim (1933–1993) (Cairo: Maktabat Wahba, 1993), p. 36. And Interview
with al-‘Erian.
29. Tammam, p. 78.
31. Hasan al-Banna, al-Rasa’il al-Thalath: Da‘watuna (Cairo: Dar al-Tiba‘ah wal-
Nashr al-Islamiyyah), 1977.
32. Mustafa Mashhur, “al-Thiqa fil Da‘wa,” al-Da‘wa, No. 21, March 1978, p. 6.
33. Mashhur, Tariq al-Da ‘wa (Cairo: Dar al-Tiba‘ah wal-Nashr al-Islamiyyah,
1979).
34. Mashhur, “Min Fiqh al-Da‘wa,” al-Da‘wa, No. 22, March 1978, p. 6.
36. Tammam, p. 82.
37. Ibid., p. 80.
39. Ibid.
40. For example, Islamic conferences with independent religious scholars were
only allowed within the university walls, and Islamic camps would never have
been approved for religious associations outside of al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya.
The public Eid prayers were only held under the auspices of the student
movement.
42. Interview with Abul ‘Ala Madi. Abul Futuh recalled that, in spite of Mash-
hur’s age, he insisted on riding behind a student on his motorcycle rather than
burden the students by having them hire him a cab. In Tammam, p. 80.
43. Tammam, p. 82.
44. Ibid., pp. 83.
45. Whereas Mashhur’s role as head of the Youth and Universities Committee in
the Guidance Bureau was more official, it revolved around education and rais-
ing awareness, while Sananiri worked through the logistics of organizational
membership, such as administering the bay‘a (oath) to new members, and
placing them within their respective groups in the new hierarchy.
48. Interview with al-‘Erian. Interview with Za‘farani.
49. Tammam, p. 91.
50. Ibid.
51. Interview with Abul Futuh. Interview with Meligi. And Interview with Badr.
52. The practice was widespread and covered urban centers as well as the country-
side. Abul Futuh provided other examples. Ahmed al-Bas was the contact in
al-Gharbiyyah governorate; Muhammad al-‘Adwi in al-Mansurah; ‘Ali Ruzza
in Ismailiya; al-Dissouqi Buqnayna in al-Buhaira; ‘Abd al-‘Aziz al-‘Azzazi in
Suez; ‘Abd al-‘Aziz Hammoudeh in Port Said; in Tammam, pp. 91–92.
53. Ibid., p. 93.
54. Interview with Meligi. And in Tammam, p. 85.
55. Interview with Ahmed ‘Umar.
57. Interview with Abul Futuh. And in Tammam, pp. 89–90.
58. Ibid., p. 90.
59. This line of argument was given prominence later by al-Jihad leader ‘Abd
al-Salam Faraj in his book al-Farida al-Gha’ibah (The Neglected Duty). Faraj
was executed in 1982 for his role in Sadat’s assassination.
60. Tammam, p. 92.
62. Tammam, p. 89. To distinguish themselves from the Muslim Brotherhood–
affiliated student group in Cairo and elsewhere, the opposition student movement
based in al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya at Assiut University used the religious slogan “la
ilaha illa Allah” (There is no God but God) in their publications, contrasting with
the other group’s use of the Muslim Brotherhood slogan “Allah akbar wa lillahi
al-Hamd” (God is greatest and to Him all praise is due); Additionally, the Assiut
group devised its own logo, featuring one sword hovering above its slogan, to dis-
tinguish it from the Muslim Brotherhood’s traditional logo of two swords crossed
over a Qur’an. Interview with Abul Futuh. And Interview with Habib.
63. Karim Yahya. “Hiwar ma‘a ‘Umar al-Tilmisani,” al-Ahali, September 29, 1982.
64. Gami‘, p. 157.
65. Admission to the Shura Council is accomplished through direct elections (for
two-thirds of the seats) and presidential appointments (roughly one-third of
the seats).
66. Yahya.
67. During the speech in which Sadat confronted Tilmisani, he alleged that he
“considered” appointing Tilmisani to the Shura Council, implying that no
offer had ever been made, a claim Tilmisani obviously disputed.
68. Gami‘, p. 273.
69. Denis Jospeh Sullivan and Sana Abed-Kotob, Islam in Contemporary Egypt:
Civil Society vs. the State (Colorado: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 1999), p. 93.
chap ter 6
1. Interview with Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi. The first view was represented
by ‘Abbas al-Sisi (early on), Mahmoud ‘Abd al-Halim, and ‘Abd al-Halim
Khafaga. The second view was represented by Mustafa Mashhur, Ahmed

Hassanain, and Kamal al-Sananiri.
2. It should be noted that the second camp also benefited from the publication
of al-Da‘wa. Mashhur used it as a regular platform for the articulation of his
ideological views.
3. John L. Esposito, Islam and Politics (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press,
1984), p. 237. And in Wickham, p. 96. Other estimates of Da‘wa’s circulation
range from 60,000 to 80,000. Interview with Badr Muhammad Badr. Inter-
view with Muhammad Abd al-Quddus.
4. This chapter relies heavily on the social movement theory literature on cultural
framing. Cultural framing is defined as the process by which a movement pack-
ages its agenda, articulating issues of concern, their remedies, and calls to action.
Benford and Snow list three core framing tasks: the diagnostic frame, which
identifies particular problems and issues of concern for a movement; the prog-
nostic frame, which articulates the solution; and the motivational frame, which
“provides the ‘call to arms’ or rationale for engaging in ameliorative collective
action, including the construction of appropriate vocabularies of motive.” Robert
D. Benford and David A. Snow, “Framing Processes and Social Movements: An
Overview and Assessment,” Annual Review of Sociology. Vol. 26, 2000, p. 617.
5. Rory McVeigh, Daniel J. Myers, David Sikkink, “Corn, Klansmen, and
Coolidge: Structure and Framing in Social Movements,” Social Forces. Vol. 83,
No. 2, December 2004, pp. 653–690.
6. Francis Robinson, “Technology and Religious Change: Islam and the Impact
of Print,” Modern Asian Studies, Vol. 27, No. 1, February 1993, p. 242.
7. Dale F. Eickelman and James Piscatori, Muslim Politics (Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1996), pp. 121–123.
8. Eickelman, Dale F. and Jon W. Anderson, “Print, Islam, and the Prospects
for Civic Pluralism: New Religious Writings and Their Audiences,” Journal of
Islamic Studies. Vol. 8, No. 1, 1997, pp. 47.
9. Ibid., p. 48.
10. Ibid. For more information, see Yves Gonzalez-Qiujano, Les Gens du livre:
Champ inteUcctuel et edition dans l’Egypte republicaine (1952–1993), These de
doctorat de l’lnstitut d’Etudes Politiques de Paris, Mention Sciences Poli-
tiques, 1994.
11. Mitchell, pp. 139–143.
12. Sivan, Emmanuel, Radical Islam: Medieval Theology and Modern Politics (New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1985), p. x.
13. “Salafi” here refers to the original concept as put forward by the Islamic
modernist thinkers, in whose footsteps Sobki and Banna established their
organizations.
14. Kepel, p. 104.
15. “Fifty Years of al-I‘tisam Magazine,” al-Mukhtar al-Islami, February 1989,

pp. 32, 35.
16. Rudi Matthee, in Juan R. I. Cole and Nikki R. Keddie, eds., Shi’ism and Social
Protest (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986), pp. 251–252. In Saad Eddin
Ibrahim, Egypt, Islam, and Democracy: Critical Essays (Cairo: American Uni-
versity of Cairo Press, 1996), pp. 41–42. And in Asef Bayat, Making Islam
Democratic: Social Movements and the Post-Islamist Turn (Stanford: Stanford
University Press, 2007), p. 217.
17. Kepel, p. 104. Sivan also refers to al-I‘tisam and al-Mukhtar al-Islami as al-
Da‘wa’s “sister monthlies,” p. 134.
18. Hasan Hanafi. “The Relevance of the Islamic Alternative in Egypt,” Arab Stud-
ies Quarterly, Vol. 4, No. 1–2, 1982, p. 57.
19. Zollner, pp. 32, 147–148.
20. Interview with ‘Abd al-Quddus.
21. Ibid. And Interview with Badr.
24. Ibid. And Interview with ‘Abd al-Quddus.
25. In September 1981, Sadat banned all independent publications. Though he
did not withdraw their publishing licenses, he used a state of emergency to
stop them from appearing and imprisoned many journalists and editors.
27. al-Da‘wa, No. 8, January 1977, p. 17.
28. Ghada Hashem Telhami, The Mobilization of Muslim Women in Egypt (Gaines-
ville: University of Florida Press, 1996), p. 40.
29. Ibid., pp. 39–40.
30. There was an absence of one issue, May 1979, which failed to appear. The final
issue appeared in September 1981, at which time Sadat banned the publication
of Islamic literature.
32. Editors, “Dear Reader,” al-Da‘wa. No. 1, June 1976, p. 1.
33. Tilmisani, pp. 66–67.
35. Sivan, p. 48. Kepel, pp. 110–112. And Johannes J. G. Jansen, The Dual Nature of Is-
lamic Fundamentalism (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1997), pp. 125–126.
36. Jansen writes that a Western reader would be reminded of “certain examples
of Nazi propaganda” when reading Da‘wa, p. 126.
37. Kepel, p. 124.
38. Articles dealing with foreign policy constitute on average less than one-fifth of
the articles in Da‘wa. Of the regularly appearing series entailing international
affairs, half deal with places other than the United States and Israel.
39. Valerie J. Hoffman, in Martin E. Marty and R. Scott Appleby, eds., Funda-
mentalisms Comprehended (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995),
pp. 215–216.
40. Fouad Ajami, The Arab Predicament (New York: Cambridge University Press,
1981), p. 225. And Telhami, p. 39.
41. ‘Abd al-Athim al-Mut‘ani, “The Manners of the Caller,” al-Da‘wa, No. 4, Sep-
tember 1976, p. 12. The verse quoted is from Qur‘an 25:63.
42. ‘Umar al-Tilmisani, “Al-Da‘wa . . . on the Path,” al-Da‘wa, No. 1, June 1976,
pp. 2–3.
43. Ahmed Gad. “On da‘wa and du‘a,” al-Da‘wa, No. 8, January 1977, p. 30.
44. Ibid.
45. Mashhur, p. 10.
46. Mashhur, “From the fiqh of Da‘wa: The Path of da‘wa,” al-Da‘wa, No. 8, Janu-
ary 1977, p. 33.
47. Mustafa Mashhur. “From the fiqh of Da‘wa: The Path of da‘wa,” al-Da‘wa,
No. 7, December 1976, p. 10.
48. Ibid., p. 11.
49. Ibid.
50. Ibid.
51. This series begins with issue number 10 (March 1977) and continues through
issue number 12 (May 1977).
52. Mustafa Mashhur “From the fiqh of Da‘wa: The Path of Da‘wa,” al-Da‘wa,
No. 10, March 1977, p. 16.
53. Mustafa Mashhur. “From the fiqh of Da‘wa: The Path of Da‘wa,” al-Da‘wa,
No. 15, August 1977, p. 6.
54. Yousuf al-Qaradawi. “Islam Is Da‘wa and Jihad,” al-Da‘wa, No. 10, March
1977, pp. 4–6.
55. Yousuf al-Qaradawi. “The Culture of the Da‘iya,” al-Da‘wa, No. 16, September
1977, pp. 14.
56. Although this is true of a number of Islamic periodicals, it was especially pro-
nounced in al-Da‘wa because of the inability to respond to continuous assaults
on its reputation throughout the Nasser period and into the Sadat period.
57. “Abdel Nasser and the Massacre of the Ikhwan,” Da‘wa, No. 1, July 1976, p. 18.
58. Saleh Abu Rafiq. “The Full Truth: What They Say about the Muslim Brothers
and Weapons . . . and the British,” No. 2, August 1976, pp. 20.
59. “Abdel Nasser and the Massacre of the Ikhwan,” Da‘wa, No. 1, July 1976, p. 18.
60. “Tales of Torture: Minute-by-Minute, on the Tongues of the Victims,” Da‘wa,
No. 2, August 1976, pp. 8–9.
61. Ibid.
62. “Muslims on the Path: The Martyr Yousuf Talat,” Da‘wa, No. 3, September
1976, pp. 4–5.
63. Ibid.
64. “Cases of Torture of the Muslim Brothers,” No. 11, April 1977, p. 10.
65. Ibid., p. 13.
66. “Cases of Torture of the Muslim Brothers,” No. 12, May 1977, pp. 4–5.
67. ‘Umar al-Tilmisani, “The Muslim Brothers, the Previous Era and the Future
Era,” Da‘wa, No. 17, October 1977, p. 3.
68. ‘Umar al-Tilmisani. “Not the Last Turn,” al-Da‘wa, No. 11, April 1977, p. 2.
69. Rashad al-Shibr Engoumi. “To Realize Democratic Governance, the Constitu-
tion Must Be Reformed,” Da‘wa, No. 2, August 1976, pp. 16–17.
70. Editorial, “Those Charged with Enforcing the Laws Are the First to Break
Them!” No. 20, January 1978, p. 15.
71. Ibid.
72. Ibid.
73. “On the Occasion of the Reform of the Constitution,” al-Da‘wa, No. 44, Janu-
ary 1980, p. 38.
74. Salih ‘Ashmawi. “Is There an Islamic Constitution?” al-Da‘wa, No. 40, Sep-
tember 1979, pp. 12–13.
75. ‘Umar al-Tilmisani. “On the Reform of the Constitution, We Have an Opin-
ion,” al-Da‘wa, No. 40, September 1979, pp. 4–5.
76. Salih Ashmawi. “Why Did the Discussion about Implementing the Shari‘a
Disappear?” Da‘wa, No. 49, June 1980, p. 14.
77. ‘Umar al-Tilmisani. “This Government Must Resign,” Da‘wa, No. 55, Novem-
ber 1980, p. 4.
78. Ibid., p. 6.
79. Abdel Munim Salim Jabbarah, “Until When Will We Remain in the Crusader
or Communist Orbit?” Da‘wa, No. 38, July 1979, pp. 8–9.
80. Jaber Rizq, “Does the Model of the Iranian Revolution Fit All Islamic Move-
ments in the World?” Da‘wa, No. 49, June 1980, pp. 34–36.
81. Salah Shadi, “The Jews, Peace, and the Arabs,” Da‘wa, No. 21, February 1978,
p. 47.
82. Ibid.
83. ‘Umar al-Tilmisani, “To the Muslim Rulers: Do You Not Fear God?” Da‘wa,
No. 20, January 1978, pp. 2–3.
84. “Remembrance of the Night Journey,” Da‘wa, No. 2, August 1976, pp. 32–33.
85. “The Youth and the Universities: The Martyr Hasan al-Banna Talks to Stu-
dents,” Da‘wa, No. 5, November 1976, pp. 46–47.
86. “With the Farmer: How Will You Sell Your Cotton This Year?” al-Da‘wa,
No. 28, September 1977, p. 48.
87. “A New Refrigerator for Potatoes,” al-Da‘wa, No. 28, September 1977, p. 48.
88. Rashad al-Shubra Bikhoumi, “Fifty Years of Farmers Suffering in the Hell of
Cooperatives,” al-Da‘wa, No. 5, October 1976, pp. 48–49.
89. “The Fertilizer Crisis: Causes, Consequences, and Solutions,” al-Da‘wa, No. 3,
August 1976, pp. 54–55.
90. “Ali Mahmoud Diab, “In Medical Science, Toward an Islamic Conception,”
al-Da‘wa, No. 4, September 1976, pp. 34–35.
91. “Questions about the Islamic Medical Union,” al-Da‘wa, No. 29, October
1978, pp. 42–43.
92. Zainab al-Ghazali, “Toward a Muslim Home: The Muslim Family in the Face
of Challenges,” al-Da‘wa, No. 44, January 1980, pp. 33–34.
93. Ibid.
94. Zainab al-Ghazali, “The Woman and Work,” al-Da‘wa, No. 32, January 1979,
p. 44.
c onc l u s ion
1. ‘Umar al-Tilmisani, Ayyam Ma‘a al-Sadat (Cairo: Dar al-I‘tisam, 1984),

pp. 48–50.
2. Ibid., p. 50.
p. 86.
4. The regime also attempted to justify the peace treaty with Israel in religious
terms, even soliciting an Islamic legal ruling in support of it, but these ex-
planations were secondary to overtly political considerations. Moreover, the
rulings had little popular resonance as the treaty was widely viewed within the
Islamic movement as an affront to God’s will.
5. While Banna certainly proposed Islamic legislation to the government and
Hudaybi explored the possibility of participating in the revolutionary regime,
the intricate nature of Tilmisani’s engagement of the policies of the Sadat
regime make this period unique in the organization’s history.
6. Tammam, p. 130.
e p i l o gu e
1. Radwa ‘Ashour, Farag (Cairo: Dar al-Shorouk, 2008), p. 91.

2. Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (New York: Vin-
tage Books, 1977), p. 201.
3. They were: ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Abul Futuh, Hamdeen Sabahi, Mohamed Morsi,
Khairat al-Shater, and Hazem Salah Abu Isma‘il. The latter two were disquali-
fied by the Presidential Elections Commission prior to the first round of voting
in May 2012.
4. For instance, the Muslim Brotherhood was not allowed an official publication.
Thereafter, its official monthly, al-Da‘wa, was published in Europe.
5. Badr Muhammad Badr, in Hesham al-Awadi, In Pursuit of Legitimacy: The
Muslim Brotherhood and Mubarak, 1982–2000 (London: I. B. Tauris, 2005),
pp. 56–57. In fact, in another report, according to Abul ‘Ela Madi, Tilmisani
approved the establishment of a party to fulfill the Muslim Brotherhood’s po-

litical objectives. Hizb al-Shura, the Consultative Party, was to be led by retired
judges and lawyers with no official connection to the Muslim Brotherhood. In
Ahmed al-Fakhrani, “Those Who Split from the ‘Obedience to the Brother-
hood’ from the Time of Banna to the Leadership of Badie‘,” al-Masry al-Youm,
April 7, 2012.
6. Ibid. pp. 57–58.
7. Hesham al-Awadi. “Mubarak and the Islamists: Why Did the ‘Honeymoon’
End?” Middle East Journal, Vol. 59, No. 1, Winter 2005, pp. 62–80.
8. Al-Awadi, p. 39.
9. Muhammad Salim al-‘Awwa, Qadiyyat al-Ikhwan al-Muslimin 1995 (Cairo: Dar
al-Shorouk, 2012), p. 27.
10. Interview with Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Meligi.
11. In fact, Madi explicitly stated that the idea for al-Wasat Party came out of an
internal effort by the Muslim Brotherhood to establish a political arm in the
late 1980s. Hizb al-Islah, or the Reform Party, was the product of a commit-
tee within the Consultative Assembly chosen to develop the party’s structure
and platform. Along with Madi, Abul Futuh and al-‘Erian were tasked with
carrying out the initiative, but it was soon abandoned to concerns over its sup-
posedly “extremely secular” outlook, according to senior Muslim Brotherhood
leaders. In al-Fakhrani.
12. Though they acknowledge having met with state security officials prior to the
2005 elections, Muslim Brotherhood leaders denied the presence of any formal
agreement. However, former Deputy General Guide Muhammad Habib ad-
mitted that the General Guide Mahdi ‘Akef entered into negotiations over the
number of parliamentary seats the Muslim Brotherhood would gain from the
elections. Shayma’ ‘Abd al-Hadi, “The Muslim Brotherhood Formally Admits
Meeting State Security Officials during 2005 Elections,” al-Ahram, June 13,
2012. Interview with Muhammad Habib, Al-Tahrir Network, June 6, 2012.
13. Official state security documents suggest that meetings with Morsi and al-
Shater resulted in agreements by the Muslim Brotherhood’s top officials to
temper their performance in the elections through standing down from par-
ticular districts and limiting their campaigning in other districts. Ahmed
‘Abd al-Fattah, “State Security Documents: Agreement with al-Shater and
Morsi on Election Rolls during 2005 Elections,” al-Masri al-Youm, March 6,
2011.
14. Robert F. Worth and Mona El-Naggar, “Fraud Charges Mar Egypt Vote,” New
York Times, November 28, 2010.
15. Interview with ’Usama Yasin, “Shahed ‘Ala al-Thawra,” Al-Jazeera Network,
June 11, 2011.
16. In his interview with Al-Jazeera, ’Usama Yasin states that state security offi-
cials delivered explicit threats to Muslim Brotherhood leaders that their active
endorsement and participation in the January 25 protests would be met with a

swift and brutal response by the regime.
17. Muhammad Gharib, “Abul Futuh Decides to Nominate Himself for Presiden-
tial Elections,” al-Masry al-Youm, May 10, 2011.
18. Al-Fakhrani.
19. In the same article, another Muslim Brotherhood official explicitly calls for
Abul Futuh to resign as a member of the Muslim Brotherhood. Sa‘ad al-Din,
Mahmoud, “Muslim Brotherhood Leaders: We Will Not Endorse Abul Futuh
as a Candidate for President No Matter What the Circumstances,” al-Youm al-
Sabi‘, May 12, 2011.
20. Al-Fakhrani.
21. Ibid.
22. Hani al-Waziri, “Al-Za‘farani’s Party Directs Strong Criticisms to the Program
of the Freedom and Justice Party,” al-Masry al-Youm, April 6, 2011.
23. Al-Fakhrani. Habib ultimately left al-Nahda Party in late 2012 to preside over
the launch of a new civic organization, which its founders named Gam‘iyyat
al-Ihya‘ wal-Tajdid al-Da‘wiyyah, focused on revival and renewal of the Islamic
call.
24. The Supreme Constitutional Court considered the question of the legality of
the parliamentary elections throughout spring 2012 and ultimately ruled to
dissolve the entire People’s Assembly on June 14, 2012, only two days before
the presidential run-off between Mohamed Morsi and Ahmed Shafiq.
25. Amin Saleh and Rihab ‘Abdullah, “Presidential Election Candidates Seminar
Series: Abul Futuh,” al-Yawm al-Sabi‘, February 17, 2012.
26. Interview with ‘Abdel Mon‘eim Abul Futuh.
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Index
‘Abbas, Muhammad, 231 ‘Abd al-Ra’uf, ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim, 22, 24

Abbas Bridge incident (1946), 37–38 ‘Abd al-Salam, Gamal, 132
‘Abd al-‘Azim, ‘Ali, 66 ‘Abd al-Sattar, ‘Abd al-Mu‘iz,
‘Abd al-‘Azim, Mubarak, 167 166, 168
‘Abd al-‘Azim, Usama, 170 ‘Abd al-Wahhab, Muhammad ibn, 79.
‘Abd al-‘Aziz ibn Baaz, 80 See also Wahhabism
‘Abd al-Baqi, Husni, 99 Abduh, ‘Isa, 66, 116
‘Abd al-Fattah, Hasan, 116 Abduh, Muhammad, 6, 79, 180
‘Abd al-Ghaffour, ‘Emad, 234 Abdullah, Muhammad Ali, 198
‘Abd al-Halim, Mahmoud Abu Isma‘il, Hazem Salah, 235
al-Azhar and, 89 Abu Khalil, Haitham, 233
in Alexandria, 101 Abul Fadl, ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim, 115
Guidance Bureau and, 101 Abul Futuh, ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim
imprisonment of, 31, 97 on Afghanistan, 141
Muslim Brotherhood and, 96–99, on bay‘a, 167
101 on changing student demographics
publications and, 99–100 at Cairo University, 252n8
‘Abd al-Khaliq, Farid, 95, 99, 168 on development of oppositional
Abdalla Ruzza, Ahmed culture, 113
student movement protests of 1968 early religious mobilization of, 105,
and, 44–46, 48 115–117
student movement protests of Egyptian Doctors Syndicate
1972–1973 and, 48, 64, 135 and, 225
‘Abd al-Latif, Muhammad, 119, 127 al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 105,
‘Abd al-Majid, Ahmed, 27 122–128, 132, 135, 151, 153–154,
‘Abd al-Majid, ‘Asim, 170 158, 161, 165, 167, 236
‘Abd al-Qadir ‘Awda, Ziyad, 123 al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya and, 118–120,
‘Abd al-Quddus, ’Ihsan, 2 248n9, 249n48
‘Abd al-Quddus, Muhammad, 2–3, 168 Guidance Bureau and, 229
2 8 0 Index
Abul Futuh (continued) Alexandria (Egypt)

Hizb al-Islah (Reform Party) and, al-Da‘wa al-Salafiyya and, 234
265n11 ‘eid prayer celebrations in, 134,
on ideological conflicts, 162 255n94
on Islam in Nasser era, 111–113 al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya in, 122–124,
January 25 movement and, 230–231 158, 166, 170, 253n48
Moussa and, 236–237 Muslim Brotherhood in, 27, 97, 101,
Muslim Brotherhood and, 103, 157, 166, 170
156–161, 164–169, 216, 219–220, political repression in, 143
226, 229–232, 236–237, student movement in, 38, 43, 46, 115,
266n19 157, 161, 226
on political parties, 216 student unions in, 123–124
presidential elections (2012) and, Algeria, 5
232, 236–238, 264n3, 266n19 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, 37–38
Sadat and, 105–106, 108, 124–125, Angola, 206
128, 142, 236 Ansar al-Sunna, 70, 112, 133, 151–152
Sananiri and, 160–161, 165 Ansar al-Thawra al-Falastiniyya, 54
on Shabab al-Islam, 254n70 Ansari, Hamied, 111
student unions and, 105, 118–119, Arab nationalism, 8, 18, 27, 50, 107, 205
124, 127, 142, 154 Arab Socialist Union (ASU)
on summer camps, 255n81 Islamization in, 58
Technical Military Academy and, 154 Shabab al-Islam and, 60–62, 65
Voice of Truth (journal) and, 132 Socialist Vanguard (SV) and, 53, 89
on Wahhabism in Egypt, 152 Socialist Youth Organization and,
Abul Magd, Ahmed Kamal 42, 50
ASU Youth Organization and, 58 Arab Spring. See January 25 movement
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 130 Ara’ Hurra (Free Opinions, ‘Uthman), 54
Sadat government and, 89, 93, 130 al-‘Asal, Ahmed, 94
Shabab al-Islam and, 67, 72 ‘Asal, Fu’ad, 64
Abu Rayya, Mahmoud, 167 al-‘Ashmawi, ‘Ali, 27
Abu Ruqayyiq, Salih, 99 al-‘Ashmawi, Salih
Abu Talib, Sufi, 127, 142, 255n73 al-Dawa magazine and, 168, 181–182,
Abu Zayd, Sanaa’, 116, 119, 166–167 184
al-Afghani, Jamal al-Din, 6, 79, 180 death of, 184
Afghanistan, 4, 137, 141–142 departure from Muslim Brotherhood
‘Ain Shams University, 120, 130, by, 51, 99
142–143, 253n40 Egyptian constitution and, 202
Ajami, Fouad, 186 Muslim Brotherhood Secret
‘Akef, Mahdi, 103, 226, 228–229, 232, Apparatus and, 22, 181
265n12 return to Muslim Brotherhood by,
al-Albani, Muhammad Nasiruddin, 168, 181–182
80, 155 on Shari’a, 202–203
Index 281
‘Ashour, Radwa, 221 bay‘a (oath of allegiance) and, 166

‘Ashur, Ahmed ‘Isa, 179 da‘wa and, 159, 161, 189
‘Ashur, Hasan, 179 al-Da‘wa (Muslim Brotherhood
‘Ashur, Hussein, 179 magazine) and, 210, 217
Assiut University Da‘watuna and, 161
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 123, 130, “The Duties of the Muslim Brother,”
144–145, 154, 171, 259n62 156
Muslim Brotherhood and, 144 al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 132, 156
student protests of 1972–1973 Khomeini and, 174
and, 65 al-Manar and, 79
summer camps at, 130, 143 Muslim Brotherhood ideology and,
Awad, Muhammad, 198 10, 28, 78–79, 83, 97, 159,
al-Awadi, Hesham, 225 161–162
al-Azhar Muslim Brotherhood leadership of,
al-Azhar University, 41, 46, 130 6, 14, 24, 26, 31, 38–39, 48, 51,
Fatwa Committee, 139 78–79, 85, 95–96, 101, 103, 154,
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 138 157, 159–160, 166, 214, 216–217
Islamic movement and, 33, 111, 155, publications of, 156, 161, 179
246n37, 256n122 Sadat and, 22–23
on Israel, 139 Shabab al-Islam and, 62, 66
magazine, 180 Twenty Principles of, 129, 132
Nasser and, 41 al-Baquri, Ahmed Hasan, 25
reform at, 80 “Battle of the Camel” (2011), 230
Sadat and, 80, 87, 89, 138–139 Bavaria Publications, 97
student movement and, 46 bay‘a (oath of allegiance), 166–167
‘Azzazi, Sayyid, 63 Beattie, Kirk, 58
The Behavior of the Muslim (al-Ghazali),
Badie‘, Muhammad, 229, 232–233 116
Badr, Badr Muhammad al-Bihairi, Sheikh, 112–113
on Cairo University student union Bread Riots (1977), 105, 137, 147, 218
elections, 144 Brown, L. Carl, 8–9
al-Da‘wa magazine and, 168, 182 Building and Development Party. See
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 125, 134, Hizb al-Bina’ wa-al-Tanmiya
144, 253n33 al-Burhani, Muhammad ‘Uthman
Muslim Brotherhood and, 163, 169 ‘Abduh, 82
on recruiting, 163 Burhaniyya Disuqiyya Shadhiliyya, 82
Sadat regime and, 125
on student union elections, 256n117 Cairo (Egypt)
on summer camps, 253n33 ‘Amr ibn al-‘As mosque in, 112
Bahgat, ‘Abd al-Hamid, 59, 63 civil unrest during late 1970s in, 148
al-Banna, Hasan ‘eid prayer celebrations in, 134,
assassination of, 11, 24, 181, 216 255n94
9780199931279-Al-Arian.indb 281 08/05/14 10:37 PM

2 82 Index
Cairo (Egypt) (continued) Centrist Party. See Hizb al-Wasat

Mohandesin neighborhood in, 82 Coptic Christians, 169
Muslim Brotherhood in, 27, 39, Cromer, Lord, 35–36
167–168, 182
al-Nahda Square protests (2013) and, al-Dar al-Salafiyya, 133
239 Dar al-Sawtiyyat wal-Mar’iyyat, 97
Rab‘aa al-‘Adawiyya Square protests Dar al-‘Ulum, 38
(2013) and, 239 Darbala, ‘Esam, 170
Sadat’s mosque construction Davis, Eric, 244n30
campaign in, 87 da‘wa (call)
student movement in, 37–38, 43–44, al-Azhar and, 111
46 al-Da‘wa magazine on, 186–188,
student protests of 1972–1973 and, 65 190–191, 193
Tahrir Square protests (2011) and, continuity versus change in, 190
222, 230–231 Gad on, 187–188
Cairo University al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 16, 121,
attempts to close, 38, 64–65 129, 132, 151
changing student demographics at, al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya and, 118
252n8 Islamic movements and, 154
engineering students at, 43–44, 48, jihad and, 159, 191
52–53, 55, 58–59, 61–62, 64 Mashhur on, 188–191
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 120–123, Muslim Brotherhood’s emphasis on,
125–127, 130–132, 138, 142, 151, 1, 11, 13–17, 31–32, 77, 93, 96, 98,
153–154, 158, 170, 253n48 100, 156, 159–163, 165, 174, 183,
al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya and, 68 186–193, 219–220, 224, 233–234
Higher National Committee of Cairo patience and, 188, 190–191
University Students (HNCCUS) Qaradawi on, 191–192
and, 44, 56–57 Qutb and, 31–32
law students at, 43, 62 student movement recruits and, 1,
medical students at, 115–117, 120–123, 161–163
127, 132, 134, 144, 151, 156 tawrith al-da‘wa and, 16, 160, 220, 224
protests (1935) and, 37 Tilmisani on, 159, 187, 220, 224
protests (1972–1973) and, 56–58, al-Da‘wa (Muslim Brotherhood
64–65 magazine)
religious activities at, 115–116 advertising and, 183
Shabab al-Islam and, 49, 52, 58–59, arrests of editors of, 2
61–65, 68, 126 al-‘Ashmawi and, 168, 181
student movement and, 37–38, 43–44, Banna in, 210, 217
48, 56–57, 115–122, 143, 226 on da‘wa (call), 186–188, 190–191, 193
student union at, 39, 42–43, 45, 56–57, on Egypt’s constitution, 199–204
59, 63, 105, 117–119, 142, 144 on farming, 210–211
summer camps at, 130 al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 150
Index 283
on global Islamic community, 192, Egyptian Constitution

205–207 al-Da‘wa on, 199–204
government’s closure of, 183–184 Sadat and, 192, 201–202, 250n17
historically oriented pieces in, Egyptian Current (political party), 231
192–199 Egyptian educational system
on Iranian Revolution, 206 British colonialism and, 35–36
on Islamization of Egyptian society, Free Officers and, 40
209–210, 212–214 Nasser and, 41, 45–46, 53, 80, 109,
on Israel, 184–186, 192–193, 150
205–206, 208–209, 217 Sadat and, 109–110
on Jehan’s Law, 192 student movement and, 19, 35, 40–41
Kepel on, 184–186 al-‘Erian, ‘Esam
martyrology of Muslim Brotherhood on development of oppositional
members in, 195–198 culture, 113–114
mass audience and impact of, 17, Egyptian Doctors Syndicate and, 225
176–177, 180, 182–183, 187, Egyptian parliament and, 225
210–211, 214 Freedom and Justice Party (FJP) and,
on medical profession, 211–212 231
re-launch of, 76, 100, 107, 181–183 al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya leadership
Sadat and, 17, 174–175, 182, 199–200, and, 121–122
202, 207, 217 al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya leadership
Shari‘a and, 183, 193, 201–202, 204 and, 119
on Six Day War, 207 Guidance Bureau and, 229, 231
university distribution of, 171 Hizb al-Islah (Reform Party) and,
on women and gender, 186, 212–214 265n11
al-Da‘wa al-Salafiyya, 234 Muslim Brotherhood membership of,
Da‘watuna (al-Banna), 161 165–166, 169, 229, 231
Dawud, Khaled, 233 on the Muslim Brotherhood’s
democracy released prisoners, 91
Islam and, 5 on Muslim Brotherhood’s returning
Sadat’s rhetoric on, 1, 64, 199–200 exiles, 94–95
student movement’s calls for, 63 student movement and, 229
Democratic Alliance for Egypt, 234 ‘Ezzat, Ibrahim, 81, 155. See also Jama‘at
ad-Dhahabi, Muhammad Husayn, 84, al-Tabligh
143 ‘Ezzat, Mahmoud, 229
al-Difrawi, Hamid, 233
The Doctrine of the Muslim (al-Ghazali), Faith and Science (television program),
116 81
Du‘a la Quda (Hudaybi), 76 al-Fanniya al-‘Askariya. See Technical
“The Duties of the Muslim Brother” Military Academy
(al-Banna), 156 al-Faqi, Muhammad Hamid, 152
Dylan, Bob, 114 Faraj, ‘Abd al-Salam, 78
2 84 Index
Farag (‘Ashour), 221 female students and, 133

Farid, Ahmed, 170 global Islam and, 137
Fawzi, Gamal, 196 hajj and, 132–133, 152
al-Fayyumi, Isma‘il, 198 Hizb al-Bina’ wa-al-Tanmiya and, 234
Foucault, Michel, 221–222 imprisonment of members of, 175,
France, 71 234
Freedom and Justice Party (FJP), Iranian Revolution and, 140–141
231–235, 238–239 Israel and, 136–137, 139–140
Free Officers. See also Nasser, Gamal Jehan’s Law and, 138
Abdel jihad and, 16, 139, 141, 152–153, 155,
disbanding of political parties by, 169–171
20–21 Mawdudi and, 120
educational reform and, 40 militancy and violence in, 145,
Free Officers Revolution (1952) and, 223–224, 234, 236, 257n5
13, 20, 22, 24–25, 40, 75, 195 Muslim Brotherhood and, 85,
Muslim Brotherhood and, 13, 19–25, 107–109, 123, 139, 144, 148–151,
40–41, 75, 157, 181 154, 156–158, 161, 163–172, 175,
Qutb and, 246n19 219, 234, 259n62
Revolutionary Command Council organizational structure of, 122–123,
(RCC) and, 20–23, 25–26, 149, 151
40–41, 181 Palestine and, 137, 139–140
student movement and, 40–41 political repression against, 143, 150,
Fuad University. See Cairo University 175, 254n62
Qutb and, 10
Gabr, ‘Abd al-Mut‘ali, 132 Sadat and, 89
Gad, Ahmed, 187–188 Sadat regime and, 106–108, 111, 125,
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya (The Islamic 127–128, 137–138, 140–144, 150,
Society) 161, 175, 254n62
Afghanistan and, 141–142 Salafism and, 16, 132–133, 152, 155,
in Alexandria, 122–124, 158, 166, 170, 169–170
253n48 Shabab al-Islam and, 69, 126
Assiut University and, 123, 130, Shari‘a and, 136
144–145, 154, 171, 259n62 student movement and, 13, 16
awareness weeks and, 137 student unions and, 3, 16, 105–106,
Bread Riots (1977) and, 137 108, 121, 123–124, 132, 135,
Cairo University and, 120–123, 142–145, 154, 161, 253n40,
125–127, 130–132, 138, 142, 151, 254n62
153–154, 158, 170, 253n48 summer camps and, 130–132, 253n33
council of amirs and, 121–122 tarbiya (religious instruction) and,
da‘wa and, 16, 121, 129, 132, 151 129–130, 135, 145
‘eid prayer celebrations and, 134 Technical Military Academy and,
factions in, 16, 155–156, 170–171 153–155
Index 285
transition from al-Gam‘iyya academic reassignment of, 106

al-Diniyya to, 120–121, 253n48 departure from Muslim Brotherhood
Twenty Principles and, 129, 132 of, 51, 97, 99, 181
Gama‘at al-Ikhwan al-Muslimin. See al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 130, 132,
Muslim Brotherhood 155
Gama‘at al-Muslimin. See al-Takfir Hizb al-Wasat and, 228
wal-Higra Ikhwani modernist school and, 155
Gama‘at Gawwad Hosni, 54 organizational independence of, 95
Gami‘, Mahmoud, 94, 174, 248n33, post-Six Day War preaching of, 112
257n4 Shabab al-Islam and, 58, 66
al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya (The Religious student movement and, 113, 116, 155
Association). See also al-Gama‘a al- summer camps and, 130
Islamiyya (The Islamic Society) al-Ghazali, Zainab, 27, 133, 186,
‘Ain Shams University and, 120 212–214
allegiance to leader principle and, Ghozlan, Mahmoud, 132, 229
249n48 Gom‘a, Sha‘rawi, 53, 114
amir of, 119–120 Great Britain
Cairo University and, 117–120 colonialism in Egypt and, 19, 24–26,
centralized and hierarchical structure 194–197, 205
of, 68, 74, 118, 120 educational policy in Egypt and,
da‘wa and, 118 35–36
Muslim Brotherhood and, 70, 74 student movement and, 37–39
religious practices emphasis of, 52, Gulf countries
54, 106 Egyptian migration and, 81
Salafism and, 68 Muslim Brotherhood exiles and, 51,
Shabab al-Islam and, 68–69 92–94, 183
student unions and, 118–119, 134–135 Muslim Brotherhood financing and,
transition to al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya 28, 183
of, 120, 253n48
al-Gam‘iyya al-Shar‘iyya, 70, 112, 151, Habib, Muhammad, 233, 265n12,
179–180 266n23
al-Gazzar, Helmi, 122 Haddad, Yvonne, 32
al-Gazzar, Muhammad ‘Abd al-Mu‘ti, Hafiz, Usama, 170
157–158, 167 Hasan, ‘Abd al-Rahman, 116, 120
Germany, 92–93 Hasan, Mansour, 146
al-Ghazali, ‘Esam Hassanain, Ahmed, 98, 101
al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya, 68 Heikal, Muhammad Hassanein, 21
imprisonment of, 63, 65, 67, 72–73 Helwan (Egypt), 43, 45
poetry of, 58–59 Higher Council of the Press, 2
Shabab al-Islam and, 58–60, 62–63, Higher National Committee of Cairo
65, 67–68, 70, 72–73 University Students (HNCCUS),
al-Ghazali, Muhammad 44, 56–57
2 86 Index
hijra, 33, 83 Ibn Kathir, 78

Hilwan (Egypt), university in, 110 Ibn Taymiyya, Taqi ad-Din Ahmad,
Hinnebusch, Raymond A., 110 78–79, 179
Hizb al-‘Adl (Justice Party), 233, 235 Ibrahim, Nagih, 144–145, 154, 170
Hizb al-Bina’ wa-al-Tanmiya (Building Ibrahim, Saad Eddin, 82, 92, 244n26
and Development Party), 234–235 al-Ikhwan al-Muslimun, 70
Hizb al-Hurriyya wa al-‘Adala. See India, 56
Freedom and Justice Party (FJP) In the Shade of the Qur’an (Qutb),
Hizb al-Islah (Reform Party), 265n11 29–30, 197–198
Hizb al-Islah wal-Tanmiya (Reform and Iran
Development Party), 233 Iranian Revolution (1979) and, 4–9,
Hizb al-Nahda (Renaissance Party), 233 140, 143, 148, 173–174, 180, 206
Hizb al-Nour (Party of the Light), Sadat and, 109, 173–174
234–235 United States and, 174
Hizb al-Riyada (Pioneer Party), 233 al-‘Iraqi, Sheikh Farid, 81
Hizb al-Shura (Consultative Party), ‘Isa, Muhammad Hussein, 157
265n5 ‘Isa, Muhieddin, 143
Hizb al-Wasat (Centrist Party), ‘Isa, al-Sheikh Imam, 113–114
227–228, 233, 235–236, 265n11 Islamic Medical Union, 211–212
al-Hudaybi, Hasan Islamic movements. See also specific
biographical background of, 22 groups
da‘wa and, 14, 159 “Islamic resurgence” and, 4–5,
death of, 15, 77, 102 11, 82
Du‘a la Quda and, 76 jihad and, 82, 85, 153–154
Free Officers and, 24–25 as mainstream political trends,
Great Britain and, 25–26 5, 81
imprisonment of, 26, 83 methodological approaches to, 4–12
Muslim Brotherhood leadership militancy and terrorism in, 9, 82
of, 11, 24–27, 31, 34, 51, 77, 83, modernity and, 5–6, 9–10, 78–79
94–95, 99, 102, 159, 168, 172, October War (1973) and, 11
181, 195, 216 “political Islam” and, 5
Nasser and, 22, 26, 195, 217 “post-Islamism” and, 5
Preachers Not Judges and, 33–35, 187 role of publications and technology
Qutb and, 34–35 in, 178–180
release from prison of, 90 Shari‘a and, 96, 136–137, 153,
Sadat and, 94, 102 243n25
secretly distributed publications of, Six Day War and, 11, 83, 112, 153
179 social movement theory (SMT) and,
Shari‘a and, 34 6–7, 11–12
takfir and, 11, 83, 246n37 Islamic University of Medina, 80
al-Takfir wal-Higra and, 84 Isma‘il, ‘Abd al-Fattah, 27
al-Hudaybi, Ma’mun, 227 Isma‘il, ‘Ali Abduh, 84
Index 287
Isma‘il, Muhammad ‘Uthman January 25 movement (2011), 222–223,

Arab Socialist Union (ASU) and, 65, 228, 230–231
89 Jehan’s Law (1979), 138, 192, 213
al-Gama‘a Islamiyya and, 170 Jerusalem
Sadat regime and, 89, 93 al-Aqsa mosque fire (1969) in,
Salafism and, 170 248n11
Shabab al-Islam and, 61, 63, 65, 69, Sadat’s visit to, 139, 142, 148,
72, 254n70 207–208
Ismailia (Egypt), 39, 146 jihad
Israel. See also Palestine da‘wa and, 159, 191
Egyptian student movement and, 117, Egyptian political parties and,
135, 139 233–234
Egypt’s treaty with, 17, 179, 184–185, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 16, 139,
193, 264n4 141, 152–153, 155, 169–171
Muslim Brotherhood and, 17, 139, Mashhur on, 191
146, 148, 184–186, 192–193, modern Islamic movements and, 82,
204–208 85, 153–154
Nasser and, 47 October War (1973) and, 87
occupation of Egyptian territories by, Qutb and, 30
55–56, 60, 66, 73, 136, 204–205 Jordan, 5
October War (1973) and, 75, 87–88, Jund Allah, 85
136, 205, 207 June War (1967). See Six Day War
Sadat and, 17, 109, 139, 142–143, (1967)
146–148, 193, 204, 207–208, Jurisprudence of the Tradition (Sabiq),
217, 264n4 116
Six Day War (1967) and, 18, 55, 83, Justice Party. See Hizb al-‘Adl
139, 204
United States and, 21 Kamel, ‘Abd al-‘Aziz, 89
War of 1948 and, 24, 40, 141, 196 al-Katatni, Sa‘ad, 231
al-I‘tisam (magazine), 179–180 Kepel, Gilles, 244n27
on al-Da‘wa magazine, 180, 184–186
Jabbara, ‘Abd al-Mon‘eim Salim, 182, on fragmentation of Islamist
206 movement, 89
jahiliyya on Muslim Brotherhood and Qutb,
Qutb and, 30–32, 246n25 9–10, 30
Qutbists and, 83, 187 on Muslim Brotherhood in prison,
al-Takfir wal-Higra and, 84 30, 82
Jama‘at al-Amr bi-l-Ma‘ruf wa-l-Nahy Khadija (first wife of Muhammad), 213
‘an al-Munkar, 85 Khafaga, ‘Abd al-Halim, 97
Jama‘at al-Jihad, 85, 259n59 Khalifa, ’Usama, 154. See also Technical
Jama‘at al-Tabligh, 81, 152, 155 Military Academy
Jamaat-i-Islami (Pakistan), 120 Khalil, ‘Abd al-Rahman, 231
2 8 8 Index
Khattab al-Sobki, Sheikh Mahmoud, 179 Marzouk, Sheikh, 102–103

Khomeini, Ayatollah, 174 Mashhur, ‘Abd al-Ra’uf, 94
al-Khouli, al-Bahi, 60, 116 Mashhur, Mustafa
Kifaya (Enough) movement, 223 on da‘wa, 188–191
Kishk, ‘Abd al-Hamid, 80 al-Da‘wa magazine and, 162, 168
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 132, 141
Labib, Mahmoud, 22 imprisonment of, 31, 99
Law 265 (on student unions), 143 Iranian Revolution and, 174
Law of Shame (1980), 174 on jihad, 191
Lebanon, 4–5 Muslim Brotherhood and, 98–101,
leftists. See under student movement 104, 160–164, 168, 174, 189,
Liberation Rally (Nasserist political 216, 219, 226
party), 42 recruiting of students and, 98–99,
Lotfi, Islam, 231 160–164, 188, 258n42
Secret Apparatus and, 98, 160, 168,
Madi, Abul ‘Ela 219
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 124, 132, Tilmisani and, 104
143 al-Mawdudi, Mawlana Abul ‘Ala
Hizb al-Islah (Reform Party) and, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 120, 153
265n11 jahiliyya and, 246n25
Hizb al-Wasat and, 227, 265n11 Jamaat-i-Islami, 6, 120
imprisonment of, 143 Qutb and, 31
al-Minya University and, 124, 132, 143 Shabab al-Islam and, 66
Muslim Brotherhood and, 227 al-Meligi, Sayyid ‘Abd al-Sattar, 227
on Sadat and student movement, 145 al-Gama‘a Islamiyya and, 253n40,
student union and, 124 254n50, 254n62
al-Mahallawi, Ahmed, 141 al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya and, 120
al-Mahjoub, Rif‘at, 255n73 on student movement and Muslim
Mahmoud, ‘Abd al-Halim, 89, 155 Brotherhood elders, 257n20
Mahmoud, Mustafa, 81–82 student union elections and, 253n40
Malaysia, 5 on summer camps, 255n81
al-Malt, Ahmed, 95, 161 Milestones (al-Qutb), 10, 30–34, 52, 73,
al-Manar, 179 78
Manchiyya incident (1954), 25 Minbar al-Islami, 180
Mansoura (Egypt), 46, 130 Ministry of Awqaf, 87
March 30 Program (1968), 45–46 al-Minya University
Mar‘i, Sayyid, 56 al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 124, 130,
Marxists 132, 143–145
Free Officers and, 20 Muslim Brotherhood and, 144
Nasser’s arrest and imprisonment Sadat’s establishment of, 110
of, 1, 19 student union at, 124
Sadat regime’s repression of, 61 summer camps and, 130
Index 289
Mitchell, Richard, 8–9, 11, 13, 22, Democratic Alliance for Egypt and,
24–26 234
Mixed Committee of Students, 37 Egyptian constitution and, 199–204
Morsi, Mohamed Egyptian Current and, 231
biographical background of, 226 Egyptian military and, 24
Freedom and Justice Party (FJP) and, Egyptian People’s Assembly elections
231, 235 and, 108
Muslim Brotherhood and, 226, execution of members of, 26, 28, 52,
228–229, 231, 235–236, 238– 98, 197–198
239, 265n13 exiled members of, 51, 77, 91, 93–94,
Parliamentary Committee and, 103, 183
228–229 factions in, 91, 96–100, 104, 172,
presidency of, 238–240 176, 225–233, 235–236
presidential elections (2012), Freedom and Justice Party (FJP) and,
235–236, 238, 264n3, 266n24 231, 233–235, 238–239
Moussa, Amr, 236–237 Free Officers and, 13, 19–25, 40–41,
Mozambique, 206 75, 157, 181
Mubarak, Gamal, 223 al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 85,
Mubarak, Hosni 107–109, 123, 139, 144, 148–151,
Muslim Brotherhood and, 225–227, 154, 156–158, 161, 163–172, 175,
229–231 219, 234, 259n62
overthrow of, 222–223, 228, 231 al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya and, 70, 74
political repression by, 224, 226–227, global Islamic community and,
229–230 204–208
Sadat and, 105 Guidance Bureau of, 25, 95, 100–104,
Muhammad ‘Ali Pasha, 35 160, 164, 168, 176, 216, 226,
al-Mukhtar al-Islami, 179–180 228–233, 235–237, 258n45
al-Muslim al-Mu‘asir, 180 Gulf countries and, 28, 51, 92–94,
Muslim Brotherhood 183
anti-colonialism and, 194–195, 205, Hizb al-Shura (Consultative Party)
207–208 and, 265n5
al-Banna and, 6, 10, 14, 24, 26, 28, Hizb al-Wasat and, 227–228, 233, 235
31, 38–39, 48, 51, 78–79, 83, 85, Ibn Taymiyya and, 179
95–97, 101, 103, 154, 157, 159– Ikhwani tradition and, 152, 154, 159,
162, 166, 214, 216–217 169
bay‘a (oath of allegiance) and, imprisonment of members of, 1–2,
166–167 13, 26, 28–31, 33, 35, 51, 80, 83,
Consultative Assembly and, 95 91–92, 97–99, 154, 156, 173, 175,
da‘wa (call) and, 1, 11, 13–17, 31–32, 77, 195–199, 223, 227
93, 96, 98, 100, 156, 159–163, informal networks within, 7, 13, 33
165, 174, 183, 186–193, 219–220, Iranian Revolution and, 148, 173–174,
224, 233–234 206
29 0 Index
Muslim Brotherhood (continued) Qutbists and, 83–84, 172

Islamization of Egyptian society and, recruiting and, 1, 16, 24, 39, 98, 100,
209–210, 212–214, 218, 224, 154, 160–167, 169, 197, 218–219
243n19 release from prison of members of,
Israel and, 17, 139, 146, 148, 184–186, 4, 9, 15, 27, 75, 77, 85, 90–95,
192–193, 204–208 106–107, 113, 157, 160, 173, 176,
Jama‘at al-Tabligh and, 81 194, 250n24
January 25 Movement (2011) and, resiliency of, 3, 51, 75, 77, 84–85,
228, 230–231 148–149, 160, 171–172, 215
medical profession and, 211–212 Rover Scouts and, 39
militancy and terrorism in, 9–10 Sadat and, 3, 7–9, 15, 17, 21, 23, 75–77,
modernity and, 8–9, 212–213 88–91, 93–94, 96, 100, 102, 113,
Morsi presidency and, 239–240 128, 143, 146–148, 150, 156–157,
Mubarak and, 225–227, 229–231 172–175, 199–200, 202–205,
Nasser and, 3, 8, 19, 21–22, 24–29, 207–209, 217–218, 222–223,
50–52, 75, 77, 80, 83, 91–92, 257n5
96–98, 113, 128, 156, 173, Salafism and, 78, 80–81, 85, 159, 170,
180–181, 193–195, 197–199, 217, 234
225, 240, 250n24 Saudi Arabia and, 93, 183
October War (1973) and, 102, 207 Secret Apparatus of, 22, 26, 98, 100,
Organization 1965 and, 27, 30, 51–52, 160, 176, 194, 219
92, 98 “Secret Murshid” period of, 103
organizational structure of, 149, 154, Shabab al-Islam and, 48–49, 58–59,
216, 219, 238 69–70, 73
Palestine and, 24, 141, 196–197 Shari‘a and, 17, 201, 203–204
Parliamentary Committee and, Six Day War (1967) and, 102, 112
228–229 social movement theory (SMT) and,
parliamentary elections and, 224–226, 11–12
229–230, 233–235, 265nn12–13 student movement and, 2, 4, 8, 12–13,
Political Bureau and, 168 16–17, 35, 37–40, 42, 48, 58–59,
political repression against, 13, 17, 84–85, 97, 99, 104, 107, 113, 142,
26–31, 50–52, 75, 77, 80, 96–97, 144, 148–149, 154–172, 218–219,
128, 150, 157, 173, 175, 181, 224, 234
192–199, 222–223, 226–227, student unions and, 224
229, 239–240 Sufism and, 78, 85
presidential elections (2012) and, al-Takfir wal-Higra and, 84
232, 235–238, 266n19 tanzim (internal organizational
publications of, 8–9, 17, 76, 97, development) and, 224, 233
99–100, 107, 150, 176–188, United Front and, 37
192–214 (See also al-Da’wa) war of 1948 in Palestine and, 24, 141
Qutb and, 10–11, 13–14, 28, 30–33, 52, on women and gender, 186, 212–214
76, 197–198 Muslim Sisterhood, 27, 212
Index 291
Mustafa, ‘Adli 83, 91–92, 96–98, 113, 128, 156,

al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 69 173, 180–181, 193–195, 197–199,
al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya, 68–69 217, 225, 240, 250n24
leftist student organizations and, 62 political repression by, 1, 9, 13, 19,
October War (1973) and, 66 21–22, 26–31, 42, 44–45, 50–52,
Sadat regime and, 61, 65, 67, 69, 72, 71, 75, 77, 79–80, 82, 91, 94,
126 96–98, 100, 114, 156, 173,
Shabab al-Islam presidency of, 59, 180–181, 197–199, 221, 225, 240
61–65, 67–69, 72–74, 126 Qutb and, 52, 82–83, 132
Shabab al-Islam’s establishment and, Six Day War and demise of, 14, 18,
58–59, 70 30, 43, 52, 71, 83, 87, 98, 111–113,
student protests of 1972–1973 and, 64 207
Wa Islamah magazine and, 67 socialism and, 9, 18–19, 29, 50, 73,
Mustafa, Shukri, 78, 84, 143. See also 86, 89, 107, 110, 128
al-Takfir wal-Higra Socialist Vanguard and, 89
Soviet Union and, 21, 47
al-Nadawi, Abul Hasan ‘Ali, 31 student movement and, 19, 42–43,
al-Naggar, Mustafa, 233, 235 45–46, 50, 111, 125, 127
Nagi, Kamal, 94 Zionism and, 18
Naguib Muhammad, 21, 24, 41 Nasserists, political repression of, 1, 61,
al-Nahda Square protests (2013), 239 93–94
Nahhas Pasha, 38 National Bank of Egypt, 183
naksa (“setback”; Six Day War of 1967), National Democratic Group, 63
18, 30, 52, 113 National Democratic Party,
Nasim Pasha, Tawfiq, 36–37 establishment of, 146
Nasser, Gamal Abdel Negm, Ahmed Fu’ad, 113–114
Arab nationalism and, 18, 27, 50, 73, Neruda, Pablo, 114
86, 107 “The New Radicalism” (Sivan), 78
assassination attempt against, 26, Nigm, Salim, 94
194 Nixon, Richard, 114
al-Azhar and, 89
death of, 3, 18, 35, 46, 55, 113, 115 October War (1973)
economic policies of, 111 Egyptian student movement and,
educational reform and, 41, 45–46, 66, 135
53, 80, 109, 150 Egypt’s performance in, 75, 77,
Hudaybi and, 22, 26, 195, 217 87–88, 135–136, 205
Islam in the era of, 111–112 Islamic-oriented mobilization for, 77,
Israel and, 47 87–88, 135, 217, 253n49
March 30 Program and, 45 Muslim Brotherhood and, 102, 207
Ministry of Awqaf and, 87 Sadat and, 47, 66, 77, 87–88, 128, 135,
Muslim Brotherhood and, 3, 8, 19, 199, 205, 217
21–22, 24–29, 50–52, 75, 77, 80, United States and, 207
292 Index
Organization 1965, 27, 30, 51–52, 92, Sadat and, 86

98, 153 Sadat regime and, 65
Orientalist studies, 4 Salafist interpretation of, 79
Qutb, Amina, 160
Pakistan, 5, 56, 120 Qutb, Sayyid. See also Qutbists
Palestine. See also Israel biographical background of, 29
Egyptian student movement and, 37, execution of, 28, 30, 51–52, 82, 98,
54, 56–57, 137, 139–140 153, 197–198
Muslim Brotherhood and, 24, 141, extremist groups and, 9
196–197 Free Officers and, 246n19
religious resistance movements in, 4 al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 132
War of 1948 and, 24, 40, 141, 196 Hudyabi and, 34–35
Party of the Light. See Hizb al-Nour imprisonment of, 28–31
Personal Status Law. See Jehan’s Law jahiliyya and, 30–32, 246n25
Pioneer Party. See Hizb al-Riyada jihad and, 30
political process model, 6–7 Milestones and, 10, 30–34, 52, 73, 78
Preachers Not Judges (Hudaybi), 33–35, modernity and, 78
187 Muslim Brotherhood and, 10–11,
Presidential Election Commission, 235 13–14, 28, 30–33, 52, 76, 197–198
Nasser and, 52, 82–83, 132
al-Qaeda, 5 Organization 1965 and, 30
al-Qaradawi, Yousuf Qur’an exegesis of, 29–30
on da‘wa, 191–192 Shabab al-Islam and, 62, 66
‘eid prayer celebrations and, 255n94 Shari‘a and, 31
on the excesses of takfir, 155 student movement and, 52, 153
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 130, 132, al-Takfir wal-Higra and, 9–10
155 Qutbists, 83–84, 172, 187
Hizb al-Wasat and, 228
intellectual influence of, 51 Rab‘aa al-‘Adawiyya Square protests
Muslim Brotherhood and, 155 (2013), 239
organizational independence of, 95 Ra’if, Ahmed, 91, 98–99, 168
Sadat regime and, 94 Rashwan, ‘Abdullah, 168
summer camps and, 130 Reform and Development Party. See
Qasr al-‘Aini Medical School (Cairo Hizb al-Islah wal-Tanmiya
University), 116–117, 121 Renaissance Party. See Hizb al-Nahda
The Qur’an resource mobilization theory, 6–7
and al-Da‘wa, 187, 213 Revolutionary Command Council
Hudaybi on, 34 (RCC), 20–23, 25–26, 40–41, 181
Islamic student movement and, Rida, Rashid, 6, 79, 179
54, 85, 106, 112, 116, 130–131, Rifa‘i, Muhammad Fathi, 27, 156
139–140 Rizq, Gaber, 99, 168, 182
Qutb’s exegesis, 29–30 Rover Scouts, 39
Index 293
Sabahi, Hamdeen, 238, 264n3 Muslim Brotherhood and, 3, 7–9, 15,

Sabiq, Sayyid 17, 21, 23, 75–77, 88–91, 93–94,
al-Azhar reform and, 80 96, 100, 102, 113, 128, 143,
departure from Muslim Brotherhood 146–148, 150, 156–157, 172–175,
and, 181 199–200, 202–205, 207–209,
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 130 217–218, 222–223, 257n5
organizational independence of, 95 October War (1973) and, 47, 66, 77,
post-Six Day War preaching of, 112 87–88, 128, 135, 199, 205, 217
Shabab al-Islam and, 66 political left in Egypt and, 9, 53
student movement and, 116, 130 political liberalization by, 137, 200
Sabri, Siham, 221 political repression by, 1–2, 4, 17, 72,
al-Sadat, Jehan, 138, 192, 213. See also 114, 122, 124, 128, 150, 173–175,
Jehan’s Law 222–223
al-Sadat, Muhammad Anwar religious rhetoric and mobilization
‘Abd al-Quddus and, 2–3 by, 15, 73, 77, 82, 85–88, 90, 93,
ascension to presidency of, 3, 18–19, 96, 111, 113, 142, 217
46, 53, 55, 71, 77, 199 on science, 87
assassination of, 1, 4, 85, 208, 223 Shabab al-Islam and, 67, 72, 89
al-Banna and, 22–23 Shah of Iran and, 109, 140–141, 148
Bread Riots (1977) and, 105, 147 Soviet Union and, 55, 90, 205
Corrective Revolution (1971) and, 47, student movement and, 44–45, 47,
53, 88, 128 56–58, 61–62, 64–66, 72, 88,
al-Da‘wa (Muslim Brotherhood 106, 108, 122, 124–125, 127–129,
magazine) and, 17, 174–175, 182, 134, 137–138, 140–145, 151, 221
199–200, 202, 207, 217 al-Takfir wal-Higra and, 143, 147
democracy rhetoric of, 1, 64, Tilmisani and, 143, 146–148, 173–174,
199–200 199, 203–204, 218, 257nn4–5,
economic policies of, 105, 111, 125, 264n5
128–129, 142, 147, 192 United States and, 174, 205
education reform and, 109–110 al-‘Urwa al-Wuthqa and, 180
Egyptian constitution and, 192, Salafism. See also Wahhabism
201–202, 250n17 Egyptian political parties and,
“fog speech” (1972) and, 56 233–234, 236
Free Officers and, 21–23 al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 16,
Gulf Countries and, 94 132–133, 152, 155, 169–170
Higher Council of the Press and, 2 al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya and, 68
Iranian Revolution and, 140, 148 al-Gam‘iyya al-Shar‘iyya and, 179
Israel treaty and, 17, 109, 139, 142– music and, 164
143, 146–147, 193, 204, 207, 217, Muslim Brotherhood and, 78, 80–81,
264n4 85, 159, 170, 234
Jerusalem visit (1977) of, 139, 142, Qur’an and, 79
148, 207–208 Sufism and, 132–133
Law of Shame (1980) and, 174 al-Tilmisani on, 164
29 4 Index
Salama, Hafez, 141 protests of 1968 and, 44

Saleh, Arwa, 221 protests of 1972–1973 and, 15, 49,
Salem, Mamduh, 90 64–65
Salim, Muhammad, 99 provocateurs and informants in,
al-Sanadi, ‘Abd al-Rahman, 22 62–63, 74, 89
al-Sananiri, Kamal public debates and, 15
Abul Futuh and, 160–161, 165 recruitment and, 68
Muslim Brotherhood and, 98, 101, Sadat and, 67, 72, 89
160–161, 165, 168, 216, 219, Sadat regime and, 14, 61–63, 65, 67,
258n45 69, 72–73, 89, 125
release from prison of, 160 student movement and, 13, 15–16, 20,
Secret Apparatus and, 168, 219 44, 48–49, 68, 70–71, 74
Saudi Arabia student unions and, 59, 62, 65, 71
hajj and, 132–133, 152 Wa Islamah magazine and, 67
Islamic University of Medina and, 80 Shadi, Salah, 99, 168, 207
Muslim Brotherhood and, 93, 183 al-Shafi‘i, Hussein, 93
Nasser and, 93 Shafiq, Ahmed, 238, 266n24
publications from, 133 Shahata, Anwar, 123
Wahhabism and, 79, 133 Shah of Iran
Sawi, ‘Abd al-Shafi, 115 overthrow of, 140
Sayyid Ahmed, Usama, 171 Sadat and, 109, 140–141, 148
Shabab al-Islam (The Youth of Islam) Sharaf, Ibrahim, 174
Cairo University and, 49, 52, 58–59, al-Sha‘rawi, Muhammad Mitwalli, 80
61–65, 68, 126 Shari‘a
committees of, 59–60 al-Da‘wa and, 183, 193, 201–202, 204
demise of, 69, 74, 106 Hudaybi and, 34
emergence of, 14–15, 20, 52–53, 58, Islamic movement and, 96, 136–137,
111, 134, 254n70 153, 243n25
female members of, 66 Qutb and, 31
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 69, 126 Sadat and, 86, 127, 250n17
al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya and, 68–69 al-Shater, Khairat
ideology of, 60, 73 biographical background of, 226
imprisonment of members of, 63–65 Freedom and Justice Party (FJP), 231
international Islam and, 66, 73 Muslim Brotherhood and, 226–227,
leftist student organizations and, 231, 265n13
61–65 presidential elections (2012) and,
legacy of, 70–74 235–236, 264n3
Muslim Brotherhood and, 48–49, trial and imprisonment of, 227
58–59, 69–70, 73 al-Sheikh, ‘Esam, 68–69, 126
October War (1973) and, 66 Shepard, William E., 243n25
political repression of, 60, 63, 65, al-Shinnawi, Shams, 198
72–73 Sidqi Pasha, Isma‘il, 36
Index 295
al-Simari, Mustafa, 63 in Alexandria, 38, 43, 46, 115, 157, 161,

Sirriya, Salih, 84 226
al-Sisi, ‘Abbas anti-colonialism and, 19, 37–38
Alexandria and, 101 changing student demographics and,
Muslim Brotherhood and, 97, 101, 110–111
161, 167 Egyptian education system and, 19,
recruiting and, 161, 167 35, 40–41
al-Sisi, ‘Abd al-Fattah, 239–240 fictional representations of, 221
Sivan, Emmanuel, 9–10, 78 France and, 71
Six Day War (1967) Free Officers and, 40–41
Egyptian student movement and, Islamic activism and mobilization
43–44, 47–48, 50, 135, 153 in, 3, 12–13, 16, 20, 48, 51–65,
Egypt’s defeat in, 3, 14, 18, 29–30, 55, 67–74, 100, 104–108, 110–112,
71, 77, 83, 111–114, 194, 205 115–145, 149–172, 224 (See also
Islamic movements and, 11, 83, 112, specific organizations)
153 Israel and, 117, 135, 139
Israel’s occupation of territories after, leftists in, 12, 15, 48, 50–51, 53–57,
55, 139, 204 61–66, 72–73, 88, 105, 116, 123,
Muslim Brotherhood and, 102 125, 127, 134–135, 137, 142
Nasser and, 14, 18, 30, 43, 52, 71, 83, military training and, 38, 56
87, 98, 111–113, 207 Muslim Brotherhood and, 2, 4, 8,
socialism. See also Arab Socialist Union 12–13, 16–17, 35, 37–40, 42, 48,
Nasser and, 9, 18–19, 29, 50, 73, 86, 58–59, 84–85, 97, 99, 104, 107,
89, 107, 110, 128 113, 142, 144, 148–149, 154–172,
regimes in Muslim-majority 218–219, 224, 234
countries and, 4 Nasser and, 19, 42–43, 45–46, 50, 111,
student movement and, 48, 50, 53 125, 127
Socialist Vanguard (SV), 50, 53, 89 national politicians who emerged
Social Justice in Islam (Qutb), 29–30 from, 223
social movement theory (SMT), 6–7, October War (1973) and, 66, 135
11–12, 260n4 oppositional culture in Egypt and,
The Society of the Muslim Brothers 114–115
(Mitchell), 8–9 Palestine and, 37, 54, 56–57, 137,
Soviet Union 139–140
Afghanistan invasion (1979) and, political repression of, 14, 19, 42,
137, 141 44–46, 61, 65, 69, 72–73, 108,
Muslims in, 66 122, 124, 128, 143
Nasser and, 21, 47 protests of 1968 and, 14, 19–20,
Sadat and, 55, 90, 205 43–48, 53–54
student movement protests of 1972–1973 and, 15, 47–48,
Abbas Bridge incident (1946) and, 56–57, 64–65, 88, 135
37–38 Qutb and, 52, 153
29 6 Index
student movement (continued) modern tariqas and, 82, 112

Sadat and, 44–45, 47, 56–58, 61–62, Muslim Brotherhood and, 78, 85
64–66, 72, 88, 106, 108, 122, Sadat and, 87
124–125, 127–129, 134, 137–138, Salafism and, 132–133
140–145, 151, 221 Suleiman, ‘Umar, 230, 235
Six Day War and, 43–44, 47–48, 50, Sunna, 34, 78
135, 153 Supporters of the Palestinian
university closures and, 38 Revolution (Egyptian student
Wafd regime and, 36–37, 39 group), 56–57
“wall magazines” and, 54, 56, 64–65, Supreme Constitutional Court of
71–72 Egypt, 235, 266n24
student unions Szyliowicz, Joseph, 40
‘Ain Shams University and, 142–143
in Alexandria, 123–124 Tahrir Islami, 85
Cairo University and, 39, 42–43, 45, Tahrir Square protests (2011), 222,
56–57, 59, 63, 105, 117–119, 142, 230–231. See also January 25
144 movement (2011)
Committee for Religious Awareness takfir
(al-Taw‘iya al-Diniyya) and, 117 contrasted with hijra, 33
constitution of, 50–51 al-Hudaybi on, 11, 83, 246n37
elections for, 3, 39, 42, 63, 108, Islamic movements and, 154
118–119, 123–124, 135, 143–144 al-Qaradawi on, 155
female student transportation issues al-Takfir wal-Higra
and, 133–134 jahiliyya and, 84
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 3, 16, political violence by, 84, 143,
105–106, 108, 121, 123–124, 132, 147, 209
135, 142–145, 154, 161, 253n40, Qutb and, 9–10
254n62 state’s reprisal against, 147–148
hajj funding from, 132 Tal‘at, Yousuf, 196
Islamic movement students and, Tal‘at Jalal, Mahmoud, 254n62
105–107, 117–119, 121, 123, 135 Tanta (Egypt), university in, 110, 123
Law 265 and, 143 Tarrow, Sidney, 6–7, 242n12, 245n38
leftist students and, 123 al-Tasawwuf al-Islami, 180
Sadat and, 143 tawrith al-da‘wa. See under da‘wa
Shabab al-Islam and, 59, 62, 65, 71 al-Tayar al-Masri. See Egyptian Current
summer camps and, 132 Technical Military Academy, 84, 88,
Sudan, 5 106, 154–155
Suez Canal Telhami, Ghada Hashem, 186
British control of, 38, 197 Tilly, Charles, 6–7, 12
Egyptian military actions at, 38, 40, al-Tilmisani, ‘Umar
87, 194, 197 al-Gama‘a Islamiyya and, 141, 156, 171
Sufism da‘wa and, 159, 187, 220, 224
Index 297
al-Da‘wa magazine and, 168, 176, Israel and, 21

181–184, 187, 201, 206 October War (1973) and, 207
Egyptian constitution and, 192, Sadat and, 174, 205
201–203 Vietnam and, 206
Guidance Bureau and, 100, 104, al-‘Urwa al-Wuthqa, 180
168 ‘Uthman, ‘Uthman Ahmed, 89
Hizb al-Shura and, 265n5 ‘Uthman, Wa’il
imprisonment of, 1–2, 31, 75, 156 Ara’ Hurra (Free Opinions) and, 54,
Iranian Revolution and, 174 56, 60, 73
on Israel, 193, 206, 208 biographical background of, 53, 55
on music and Islam, 164 al-Gam‘iyya al-Diniyya and, 54,
Muslim Brotherhood leadership of, 3, 68–69
9–10, 15–17, 75, 88, 95, 99–101, Sadat regime and, 61, 65, 67, 74, 126,
103–104, 146–148, 156–161, 164, 248n30
166, 168, 171, 173–174, 176, Shabab al-Islam and, 53, 58–65,
181–184, 199, 201, 203–204, 67–71, 73–74, 126
209, 214–216, 218, 224–226, student movement protests of 1968
244n27, 264n5 and, 44, 48, 53
release from prison of, 90, 157 student movement protests of
Sadat and, 143, 146–148, 173–174, 1972–1973 and, 48, 57, 64–65
199, 203–204, 218, 257nn4–5, Wa Islamah magazine and, 67
264n5
on Salafism, 164 Voice of Truth (al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya
student movement and, 164, 166, journal), 132
171, 218 Voll, John, 10–11, 246n37
writings of, 161–162
Tocqueville, Alexis de, 71 Wafd Party
al-Tuni, Muhammad Shawkat, 65 decline of, 39
Turkey, 5 Free Officers and, 20, 23
Twenty Principles (Banna), 129, 132 ruling regime of, 36–39
Wahhabism, 79, 133, 152
‘ulama (religious class), 178 Wa Islamah (Shabab al-Islam
‘Umar, Ahmed, 144 magazine), 67
‘Umar ibn al-Khattab, 117 Wickham, Carrie Rosefsky, 243n19,
Ummah (global community of 245n36
Muslims), 178 Wiktorowicz, Quintan, 7, 243n19,
Umm Kulthum, 114 249n56
United Front, 37 World War II, 23, 37
United Nations, 37
United States Yom Kippur War. See October War
Camp David Accords and, 184, 207 (1973)
Iran and, 174 Young Egypt, 20, 37
29 8 Index
Yousuf, Muhammad, 116 on student unions, 135, 145

Yusri, Mustafa, 153–154. See also Zaqaqiq (Egypt), university in, 110
Technical Military Academy Zionism. See also Israel; Palestine
al-Da‘wa magazine articles on,
al-Za‘farani, Ibrahim 206
in Alexandria, 115, 123–124, 143, 166 Egyptian student movement’s
biographical background of, 111 opposition to, 117, 139
al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya and, 123–124, Muslim Brotherhood and, 197,
135, 145, 170 207–209
Hizb al-Nahda (Renaissance Party) Nasser and, 18
and, 233 Zollner, Barbara, 27, 30–31, 33
Muslim Brotherhood and, 166, Zuhdi, Karam, 144–145, 154, 170
169–170, 232–233 al-Zumur, ‘Abbud, 234

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ABDULLAH AL-ARIAN

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1. The Islamic Movement on the Eve of Sadat  18

the muslim brotherhood (al-Ikhwan al-Muslimun) began as a small

spoke of “Egypt’s militant Islamic movement” as “more vocal, active, and

Al-Arian shows, the leadership of the major group, al-Gama‘a al-­Islamiyya,

Brotherhood was able to make the transition from marginal to main-

social movement history, by its very nature as a phenomenon arising

various publications in the past. Additionally, for the purposes of this

this study employs a simplified form of transliteration of Arabic words.

Cairo’s oppressive summer weather had yet to subside as the third

through smuggled newspapers. In one entry, he lamented a news story

forces of old. The assumption of leadership by Tilmisani, who expressed

gradual release from prison, the Muslim Brotherhood’s former leaders

Islamic Movements: Toward an Approach

the stagnation and underdevelopment afflicting many Muslim societies

and their methods. It could not separate particular political grievances

contention, “existing performances from an array chosen by the actors” in

allow the growth of a religious trend, or by constricting its movements,

An Old Call, A New Call

lacked a wider discussion of Qutb’s concepts within the framework of

Even Mitchell contributed to the growing critique, challenging the pe-

History helps because it explains why social movements incor-

of an Islamic political program and a frame of reference after two decades

Completely independent of the Muslim Brotherhood’s attempts to re-

of Islam, as well as its ability to convey a complete program, respond to

The Islamic Movement on the Eve

presidency, already notable for the absence of a distinct ideological orien-

Free Officers and Repressive Politics

From Potential Partners to Outlawed Opposition

Before moving on, it is necessary to investigate the drastic transformation

for Palestine. It included powerful personalities, from Naguib and Nasser,

discussions with Nasser’s blessing and only to bolster the impression of

The Ordeal and Its Consequences

whatever remained of the organization itself had to come to terms with

to conduct study sessions that continued to propagate Banna’s message,

Internal Debates and the Evolution of Ideas

interpretation that allowed Qutb to adapt traditional concepts such as

[T]his rather psychological explanation for the radicalization some-

explanation, one can easily overlook that his radical interpretation

Today too we are surrounded by jahiliyya. Its nature is the same as

By this reasoning, existing structures, whether it was the nation-state

The task of Muslims today . . . is to reappropriate the understand-

It is in the final section of Milestones, in Qutb’s call to arms, that he dis-

[B]anning Qutb’s works drew attention to the importance of his

Student Activism in the Liberal Period

reform was perceived to enable political instability by expanding upward

As the university students’ perceptions of the future that awaited

The achievements of these politically conscientious students can best

Pasha was tasked with the responsibility of reforming the constitution,

continued to escalate in the ensuing weeks, resulting in the deaths of

When he established the first chapter in Ismailia, Banna was spending

1. The Islamic Movement on the Eve of Sadat 18

Al-Arian shows, the leadership of the major group, al-Gama‘a al-Islamiyya,