The Muslim Brotherhood (4 page)

… we entered a dark room and an unidentifiable person was there although his voice was very well known to us. It was the voice of Saleh Ashwami and in front of him was a low table at which he was sitting cross-legged. On the table there was a Qur’an and a pistol. He asked both of us to put our right hands on the Qur’an and the pistol and to give baya and obedience to the Nizam al-Khass and to work for the triumph of Islamic
dawa
. That was very strange and spread foreboding in us.
³⁴

Similarly, Farid Abdel Khaliq, one of the most devoted of al-Banna’s followers, described his displeasure at being called to join the Nizam al-Khass and at having to undergo a special test in which he was asked to take a bag to a certain address.
³⁵
Upon realising that the bag contained explosives, he refused to participate any further.

As well as alienating some of his more moderate followers by the establishment of the Nizam al-Khass, al-Banna struggled to contain his own creation. In the late 1940s, the Nizam al-Khass, by this point under the control of the ambitious Abdel Rahman al-Sanadi, was responsible for a series of acts of political violence including attacks on British forces. Of course such violence was in line with the times, as various groups including the nationalists began to adopt more militant tactics against their foes.
³⁶
In January 1948 Egyptian forces discovered caches of arms and explosives in the hills outside Cairo and clashes between the police and a number of young Ikhwani, led by a member of the Nizam al-Khass who had been training in the hills, ensued. Later in the same year the group was responsible for the killing of an Egyptian judge, Ahmed al-Khazindar Bey, who had handed down a prison sentence to a member of the Ikhwan for attacking British soldiers. It seems that after al-Banna had made a passing comment declaring that he wished to be rid of the judge, Abdel Rahman al-Sanadi took him at his word. Al-Sanadi explained, ‘When
al-Ustath
says that he wishes to get rid of al-Khazindar, his desire to get rid of him is an order.’
³⁷
However, in the row that ensued al-Banna refused point blank to take any responsibility for the killing.

The extent of al-Banna’s responsibility for the actions of the Nizam al-Khass is still a matter of debate given that as Murshid he was overall leader and insisted on obedience as one of the core principles of the secret apparatus. Regardless of whether he can be held responsible it is noteworthy that, after the assassination, al-Banna did not expel al-Sanadi. Instead he took steps to take further control of the Nizam al-Khass himself. Yet the Ikhwan’s growing militarisation along with the
increasing tensions and popular unrest within Egypt in the run up to the 1952 nationalist revolution put the authorities on high alert, and they began to prepare the ground for the Brotherhood’s dissolution. The assassination of Prime Minister Nuqrashi in December 1948 by a young Ikhwani veterinary student and a bomb attack attempt on a Cairo courthouse by a member of the Nizam al-Khass were the last straw. Al-Banna, shaken by events, was by this point desperately trying to make his peace with the government and wrote a public letter declaring that those who had perpetrated the acts of violence were ‘neither brothers, nor are they Muslims’.
³⁸

Al-Banna’s willingness to distance himself from those within his movement who had taken action was a miscalculation on his part, for it prompted uproar and anger within the ranks of the Brotherhood. Moreover, it failed to win over the authorities; instead, al-Banna resorted to writing a pamphlet titled
Qawl Fasl
in which he asserted that all the charges against the brothers were fabrications or distortions, and that the only reason the movement possessed arms was in order to assist the Palestinians. To little avail: al-Banna’s assassination in February 1949 was followed by mass arrests and the military trials of scores of Ikhwani.

Therefore even though al-Banna has always been held up as a beacon of moderation and as the traditional face of the Brotherhood, he was always willing to accommodate more militant elements within his movement. Yet it appears that in trying to meet the demands of all the different constituencies he needed to keep on side, he ultimately lost control. One could argue that al-Banna was essentially a simple man with a belief that all answers lie in Islam and that in spite of all his pragmatism he had bitten off more than he could chew, getting himself caught up in a situation that was ultimately to prove too complex for him. It seems that he was never able to reconcile his desire to adopt a cautious approach with his bid to be seen as defending Islam and capable of mounting a challenge to established order. In the language of
Mahmoud Abdelhalim, he did not want his
dawa
to become cold prey for his enemies.
³⁹
Al-Banna’s failure to balance these two conflicting requirements has not been unique to him; as discussed above, this problem is one of the core issues that has continued to characterise the Ikhwan and that remains unresolved today.

The death of al-Banna served to bring the various tensions that had been simmering for years well and truly to the fore. Whilst al-Banna had struggled to contain the different elements within the Ikhwan, his charisma, as well as his having founded the movement, had enabled him to have some sort of authority over the organisation. However, he left no natural heir to the Brotherhood, which meant that after his death competing factions sought to claim leadership of the Ikhwan. Two distinct camps emerged at this time. The first consisted of those who believed that a successor should be appointed from within al-Banna’s own family and the second comprised the Nizam al-Khass, who considered themselves to be the elite of the Ikhwan and as such the rightful successors to the top post. But this battle was about more than just who was to be leader; it was about charting the future course and character of the movement as a whole.

The division between these two competing camps over who should lead the Brotherhood was so intense that in the end the only solution was to bring in a compromise figure to take up the post. The choice was Hassan al-Hodeibi, who although not actually a member of the Ikhwan had been very close to al-Banna for many years. A judge, al-Hodeibi was well connected to the establishment, especially to the upper echelons of the Palace. Fathi al-Asal, who was the General Inspector of the Ikhwan’s Headquarters at the time, said of al-Hodeibi, ‘He was the Murshid of the Palace, not the Murshid of the Brotherhood.’
⁴⁰
Al-Hodeibi himself, who appears to have been an organiser as much as anything else, was initially reluctant to take up the post on account of the bitter internal divisions within the Guidance Office.
⁴¹

His appointment turned out to be a victory for the Nizam al-Khass. One of the reasons they accepted him was because he was weak and could therefore be subject to manipulation; furthermore, he could act as a useful more neutral figurehead for the movement given its own difficulties with the authorities. Indeed, the Nizam al-Khass made it clear to the new Murshid that they expected him to be little other than a front man and that they intended to be the real arbiters of power within the movement. Upon assuming the post al-Hodeibi is reported to have been told, ‘We want nothing from you; you need not even come to the headquarters. We will bring the papers for you to sign or reject as you will … We only want a leader who will be a symbol of cleanliness.’
⁴²

Despite al-Hodeibi’s best attempts to prevent the Nizam al-Khass from dominating the movement, he was, as they had predicted, no match for them. Part of his problem was that he was living in the shadow of al-Banna, who for all his faults was still hailed as the ultimate leader. As such, al-Hodeibi was never able to muster the same respect or loyalty as his predecessor. Moreover, al-Hodeibi’s open objections to both secrecy and violence – the two elements that distinguished the Nizam al-Khass from the rest of the movement – meant that from the beginning he was set on a path that would bring him into conflict with these powerful figures. More importantly, he condemned the violent acts that the Nizam al-Khass had been involved in, calling them acts of ‘extravagation … and deviation from the original duty of the Brotherhood organisation’.
⁴³
This not only infuriated the Nizam al-Khass, it also discredited the nobility of purpose with which these events were viewed and challenged some traditional views in the society on both means and ends.
⁴⁴
According to Maimoun al-Hodeibi, Hassan al-Hodeibi’s son, who was himself later to become the Murshid, his father ‘did not have al-Banna’s charisma.
This created a sense of confusion within the group, especially when the paramilitary wing … did not accept his authority as leader, weakening the Brotherhood. As a result, there were only a few people within the movement that he really trusted, and he never had complete control over the paramilitary wing.’
⁴⁵

His lack of control was such that he even proved unable to discover exactly who all of the Nizam al-Khass’s members were. He made an attempt in 1953 to expel a number of key figures and to dissolve the unit but this proved fruitless, as for many the idea of the Ikhwan without the Nizam al-Khass was unthinkable, and he was pressurised into retracting. At this time he appointed his own man, Yousef Talat, to be the new head of the unit, hoping he would be able to bring it within the formal structures of the Brotherhood. However, even this was not sufficient to bring the unit under his true control.

Yet it was not just the Nizam al-Khass that al-Hodeibi struggled to direct. The new Murshid proved unable to harness the movement as a whole and as a result the Ikhwan became paralysed under his leadership. As its membership began to dwindle and dissent among the ranks increased, al-Hodeibi was accused of turning the Ikhwan into a movement of words not action.
⁴⁶
Yet while al-Hodeibi was weak, he cannot be blamed as entirely responsible for the movement’s demise. It was also a reflection of the changing political environment in Egypt.

Shortly after al-Hodeibi’s appointment as Murshid, President Gamal Abdel Nasser came to power in his nationalist revolution of 1952. Given that the Brotherhood had maintained good relations with the nationalists before they had come to power, the Ikhwani had high hopes for their future and expected to be given space in which to operate under the new regime. Some brothers were overjoyed at Nasser’s coming to power, as they believed that he would move to bring about Islamic rule. However, as it became increasingly apparent that Nasser had no intention of applying Islamic law, they became increasingly disillusioned and fierce disagreements occurred within
the Guidance Office over the extent to which the movement should be prepared to work with the regime. Around the same time, Nasser began to view the Ikhwan as an irritant, not least because it was resisting some of his policies. In January 1954 the new cabinet plunged the Ikhwan into disaster by dissolving the Muslim Brotherhood.
⁴⁷
It also launched an aggressive press campaign against the movement and arrested scores of brothers, provoking yet further discord among the Ikhwan’s ranks.

It was in such extreme circumstances that the Nizam al-Khass seemed to come into their own, as if they had been given the opportunity to act and to assert their domination. They took it upon themselves to issue threatening letters to members of the Brotherhood who had escaped arrest, deeming their lack of persecution an indication that they had been colluding with the regime.
⁴⁸
They also began to push for the Ikhwan to take some sort of public action against the government. Al-Hodeibi’s attempts to act as peacemaker fell on deaf ears and his unwillingness to act – especially in the face of Nasser’s signing an evacuation treaty with the British that many Ikhwani considered to be tantamount to ‘giving away the nation’ – prompted some elements within the Nizam al-Khass to initiate a more radical plan.

On 26 October 1954 as Nasser gave a speech in Cairo to celebrate the British evacuation treaty, he was shot at eight times, but escaped unharmed. The truth of who exactly was involved in this plot aside from the supposed assassin, Mahmoud Abdel Latif, a tinsmith from Imbaba, and how much the Ikhwan’s leadership knew about it, is still not clear. However, the consequences for the Brotherhood were severe: the regime retaliated by hanging six men and arresting thousands of Ikhwani, essentially crushing the organisation.

Thus al-Hodeibi had proved even more inept than his predecessor at managing the different strands within the Ikhwan. His failure to rein the more activist elements in resulted in a fallow period for the Brotherhood and the movement was effectively stymied during
the second half of the 1950s and throughout the 1960s due to the fact that so many Ikhwani had been imprisoned. However, rather than diminishing these more militant elements’ appetite for action, their spell in prison only hardened them and made them even more determined to challenge the Nasser regime. Despite the organisational stasis, there were a number of ideological developments during this time that served to bolster these more hardline elements. These developments, arguably the first since the movement’s inception, came through the figure of Sayyid Qutb, whose more radical ideas began to take hold and gather a momentum of their own. As has been well documented by numerous scholars, Qutb came to advocate that the leaders of Egypt and Egyptian society could be considered as part of
jahiliya
(pre-Islamic ignorance) and were therefore legitimate targets in the struggle to create an Islamic order. In a movement so dominated by organisers and so parched of thinkers, Qutb’s ideas came to breathe new life into the organisation. For those of a more militant persuasion it would seem that it was in Qutb that they found a real successor to al-Banna, a man whose ideas could provide the intellectual justifications for the action they so craved.