It seems the government has reached an advanced stage of daily suffering—besieged by a relentless barrage of criticism and accusations from all forms of media. However, it is the ‘electronic opposition’ on websites and blogs that has made the government an object of public spectacle. Thousands of young people have turned the act of tracking and exposing the system’s mistakes into a full-time hobby, ensuring the world sees its every blunder.
With poverty, mismanagement of state resources, and corruption dominating the headlines of independent newspapers—booming in recent years alongside this digital activism—Egypt has witnessed an unprecedented wave of economic criticism. Blogs and online platforms, free from oversight and often anonymous, have unleashed a bold and uncompromising language unseen in public discourse for decades.
For a while, the government clung to its usual strategy—turning a blind eye, at least partially, to mounting accusations of impoverishing the poor. But it has become clear that this approach only amplified the opposition’s voice, turning online dissent into a trend that has eroded the government’s authority.
Yet, winds of change appear to be blowing through official policy in response to this sharp criticism. In recent months, the government’s reaction to its opponents has been striking—not least because it has decided to join the noise, matching the same sharp tone with its own.
In a bizarre turn of events, the past few weeks have seen a wave of unprecedented government self-criticism—so scathing that even its fiercest opponents have been left taken aback.
At times, the government lashes out at itself over cases of influence-peddling, whether among its parliamentary representatives or the wider state apparatus. At other times, its own officials spiral into dramatic outbursts—one even went as far as warning the finance minister that he might face assassination, just as his grandfather did, for his ‘unpopular’ policies. This, despite the fact that the minister has done little more than apply the basic principles of economic survival in times of crisis.
Meanwhile, members of the ruling National Democratic Party have taken to accusing the government of handing over Egypt’s economy to a ‘gang’ that is selling it off for next to nothing—an extraordinary verbal attack from a party that is, after all, part of the same government. Or is the government part of the party? Or does anyone even know anymore who answers to whom?
Most recently, in the fourth National Youth Conference, the prime minister openly attacked Egypt’s state-funded healthcare system, bluntly stating: ‘I call it the system of no system.’ He went further, delivering an even more stinging critique: the government, under the current system, supports the rich more than the poor.
Of course, this sudden shift is far better than the government’s previous habit of stuffing its ears with cotton and clay. But the timing of this apparent self-flagellation is telling. It suggests the government still knows how to manipulate the political winds in its favour—even if that means airing its own dirty laundry in public. Painful as the method may be, the outcome ultimately serves its interests.
This strategy is not without its benefits. It could restore, or at least partially rebuild, public trust in both the government and its ruling party. It also lays the groundwork for deeper structural changes, with the healthcare sector seemingly the first in line for reform—possibly followed by taxation and even the concept of state subsidies itself. This is precisely the kind of political cunning that has long defined the Egyptian system. This time, it has found a way to weaponise its own mistakes—mistakes that young activists sing about on the internet—to sing even louder itself, seizing control of the opposition’s voice with its own hand firmly on the microphone.
This article is originally published by AlBorsa in Arabic and later AI-translated by South Push.