The world’s economic systems have moved beyond the outdated notion that development is solely measured by GDP growth. Acknowledging past mistakes, they have shifted their focus to the Human Development Index (HDI). Real development is not just about increasing economic figures—it is about tangible improvements in people’s lives, higher living standards, and the growth of individuals as active contributors to their society’s progress. Simply chasing numerical economic growth serves little purpose other than keeping ruling elites in power and widening the gap between rich and poor, particularly when wealth distribution remains fundamentally unjust. True economic development should centre on the individual as the core unit of society. Yet in Egypt, this modern understanding of development remains muddled. Decision-makers still celebrate economic statistics without considering what they mean for real people. To move beyond generalisations, let’s examine Damietta—a small city often hailed as a ‘success story’ in Egypt’s development. The city frequently receives glowing praise: ‘Japan of Egypt’, ‘If only all of Egypt were like Damietta’, ‘A city without unemployment’, ‘Highest per capita income in Egypt’, ‘A city free of illiteracy’. While these labels contain elements of truth, they do not necessarily translate into genuine development.
The comparison to Japan is understandable—both the Japanese and the people of Damietta share a cultural reverence for hard work. But the similarities end there. The differences are not just in economic size or global influence; the real distinction lies in what happens after the first phase of development. Japan’s government understood its people’s capabilities and strategically guided them from one stage to the next—just as a student progresses through school until they graduate with a ‘certificate of development’. After the Second World War, Japan, having raised individual incomes through small enterprises (as its major industries had been destroyed), worked to foster economic cooperation and integration. It focused on enhancing individual productivity and intellectual growth to serve society, not just the system. Economic expansion alone does not automatically lead to human development—this is where comprehensive, people-centred planning is essential. This approach is what transformed Japan into a formidable economic and human powerhouse. Meanwhile, ‘the Japan of Egypt’ remains stuck. Damietta has made strides in overcoming poverty and illiteracy, but it has lost its way in advancing human development. Economic growth has not been matched by structured social progress. There is no clear strategy for what should follow income increases, nor any plan to channel this growth into broader human advancement.
One consequence is the changing behaviour of the city’s working class, who have historically been marginalised despite their importance to the local economy. As their incomes have risen, their consumption habits have shifted towards ostentatious spending, often without financial awareness. Even more troubling is the emergence of sexual harassment—an unfamiliar problem in a society once known for its courtesy—likely a reaction to years of social neglect. At the same time, instead of integrating skilled professionals and university graduates into Damietta’s economic boom to ensure social balance, these individuals have been left out. Many have been forced to seek opportunities elsewhere, whether in Cairo, Alexandria, or even abroad, with reports of Damietta natives establishing themselves in cities like Boston, Milan, and London. Adding to the problem is the influx of foreign investment into the city’s industrial sector. While large new factories have been built, they have done little to benefit the local community. These industries pollute the city without providing meaningful employment opportunities for its educated workforce. Local workers are often overlooked in favour of employees from other regions—or even foreign labour. Why should Damietta’s own people stay if they are not the ones reaping the benefits of the city’s economic expansion? Another overlooked issue is the role of women in this so-called ‘development’. The local job market has failed to accommodate Damietta’s female workforce, with employers often rejecting qualified applicants simply because they wear the hijab. As a result, many educated women are left with no choice but to stay at home, waiting for ‘justice’ to come to them after years of hard work in their studies. These social disruptions in Damietta serve as a warning of what could happen across Egypt if human development remains sidelined in favour of rapid, unstructured economic growth. The past 20 years in Damietta offer a glimpse into a potential national future—one where economic figures may soar, but without a phased, human-centred approach to planning, Egypt risks becoming a country plagued by new social problems. Without a clear vision for what comes after ‘Year One of Development’, the consequences could be far-reaching.
This article is originally published by AlBorsa in Arabic and later AI-translated by South Push.