Egypt’s first freely elected president, Dr Mohamed Morsi, is a fellow alumnus who studied at the University of Southern California, Los Angeles, in the early 1980s. I don’t recall ever meeting on campus, and I am told he graduated a year before I arrived. After a brief teaching career at Cal State Northridge, he returned to Egypt, where he resumed his academic career. He was first elected to parliament as an independent candidate in 2000. He was arrested along with 24 other Muslim Brotherhood leaders on 28 January 2011. He escaped from prison in Cairo two days later during the chaos of the 2011 Egyptian Revolution. President Hosni Mubarak resigned on February 11 after a thirty-year rule, turning power over to the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF).
Morsi’s 2012 victory marked Egypt’s first genuinely contested presidential election, emerging from the 2011 uprising. But like other Arab Spring states, Egypt soon slid into a harsh counter‑revolution. On July 3, 2013, the military deposed Morsi, banned the Brotherhood’s Freedom and Justice Party, and later oversaw mass killings at Rabaa al‑Adawiya alongside widespread arrests.
Morsi spent the next six years facing charges ranging from alleged collaboration with Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran’s IRGC to escaping Wadi el‑Natroun Prison during the 2011 uprising, all while held in solitary confinement and denied adequate treatment for his diabetes and worsening kidney and liver disease. He died of a heart attack in a soundless cage in a Cairo courtroom on June 17, 2019. Independent observers had described his death as "premeditated murder". His final words were a verse from a poem that read ‘My country is dear even if it oppressed me and my people are honorable even if they were unjust to me’.
What caused Dr Morsi to fail? Why did the clock turn back to the pre-Morsi era again? The success of the counter-revolution and rise of General Abdel Fattah al-Sisi to the presidency is typically understood as the victory of the Egyptian “deep state.” Leaders from Egypt’s army, national police, judiciary, and other executive bureaucracies certainly closed ranks against the elected leaders of the Brotherhood. But this fact fails to explain the massive protests in June 2013 against the Brotherhood that were the pretext for al-Sisi’s coup on Morsi. The protesters became convinced the Brotherhood was using wins at the polls to centralize power in the hands of the Muslim Brotherhood far beyond their mandate and treat the country as if it accepted the “Islamist project.” Even worse, for many of the protesters, Morsi simply was not fixing Egypt’s multiple and worsening woes.
The irony is, the Brotherhood knew the risks going in. After the 2011 fall of autocrat Hosni Mubarak, the group vowed not to try to dominate parliament and not to run a candidate for president, knowing the backlash if it seemed to be grabbing power or if it led a government that failed to fix a broken Egypt. It went back on each of those promises, every time saying its hand was forced into doing so.
Morsi himself recognized the power of the street as he vowed to be a president for all the people. The day before his formal inauguration on June 30, 2012, he first delivered a symbolic oath of office in Cairo’s Tahrir Square, the epicenter of the revolt that overthrew his autocratic predecessor.“You are the source of power and legitimacy,” he told the crowd. Nothing stands above “the will of the people. The nation is the source of all power. It grants and withdraws power.”
When Dr Morsi took the oath of office on June 30, 2012, the public wanted a miracle of sort to right the wrongs of the past decades and fix the economy. Forgotten there were the harsh facts that Morsi had inherited a country in economic free fall, a state apparatus hostile to his very existence, and a neighborhood of powerful monarchies who viewed his movement as an existential threat. One year and three days later, on July 3, 2013, he was removed by the army amid mass protests, setting Egypt on a course back to overt military rule.
To many, Morsi “failed.” But that verdict obscures a grim reality: given Egypt’s structural constraints, entrenched “deep state,” and the coordinated opposition of key regional powers, no elected leader—Islamic, liberal, or technocrat—could have stabilized Egypt’s economy or secured democratic consolidation in twelve months. The outcome was overdetermined. This is not an absolution of Morsi’s political missteps. It is a reckoning with the system that devoured him. The record is now abundant: the Egyptian military and its institutional allies never ceded real power; Gulf states hostile to the Muslim Brotherhood withheld meaningful aid until a preferred strongman arrived; and external supporters cheered the reversal while internal polarization paralyzed governance. The “failure” was designed.
A Broken Economy Before Morsi Arrived
By mid‑2012, Egypt’s economy was already unraveling—tourism depressed after the 2011 revolution, foreign investment fleeing, reserves draining, fuel and wheat subsidies ballooning. Analysts at the Asan Institute capture the mood succinctly: nearly every economic indicator worsened between 2012–2013, and the economy “barely survived on financial loans,” as political instability scared off investors. That bleak baseline is crucial: Morsi did not break Egypt’s economy; he inherited a broken one.
Compounding the crisis, Egypt lacked a stable governing framework. Courts dissolved the Muslim democrats‑dominated parliament before Morsi took office; bureaucracies and police—staffed by Mubarak‑era veterans—dragged their feet or outright resisted presidential directives. The “deep state” (army, police, judiciary, and key executive bureaucracies) closed ranks—a convergence documented by scholars and journalists alike. In this environment, even routine economic management (let alone reform) was Sisyphean.
The Untouchable Military: a Veto Player Undefeated
Egypt’s armed forces are not merely a security institution; they are a sprawling economic empire. Decades under Nasser, Sadat, and Mubarak forged a military with extensive commercial interests and a deep aversion to democratic oversight. In a recent Oxford University Press study, political scientist Sharan Grewal shows how the military had “much to lose” from democratization, actively polarizing civilian forces and intervening once it judged the Brotherhood was moving too quickly against its prerogatives. Morsi’s experiment was bounded by an institution that was at once market participant, regulator, and final arbiter of political outcomes.
As reported by Middle East Eye, a senior aide to Morsi said that General Abdel Fattah el‑Sisi had been preparing the coup months in advance. He held weekly meetings with opposition leaders at the Naval Forces Club, and issued a 48‑hour ultimatum that took the presidency by surprise. This was not the military “responding” to the street; it was the military shaping the street and then claiming to arbitrate its will.
The Street Was Real—But It Wasn’t the Whole Story
Mass protests in June 2013 were undeniably vast, reflecting anger at economic pain and accusations of majoritarian overreach by the Brotherhood. The coup chronicle itself lists the June 2013 protests as the immediate cause of Morsi’s ouster. Yet protest size cannot explain state behavior. When elections and institutions are fragile, the actor with guns and budgets decides how to “read” the street. In Egypt, the military read popular anger as a mandate to erase an elected government, suspend the constitution, and reengineer politics.
Moreover, polarization was not accidental. An SDU analysis argues that Egypt’s potential democratic actors—the Brotherhood and secular liberals—became trapped in a kulturkampf, cooperating less with each other than with the instruments of the old order. The result was a civilian vacuum into which the army stepped, to the applause of many who feared their rivals more than the return of authoritarianism.
Follow the Money: How the Gulf Signaled Its Preferences
If you want to understand political intent in the Middle East, follow the money. During Morsi’s year in office, Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Kuwait offered little of the large‑scale support Egypt needed, while Qatar—alone among Gulf monarchies—kept Egypt’s budget afloat by buying billions in Egyptian bonds and extending loans. It was a lonely, insufficient lifeline.
Everything changed within hours of the coup: Saudi Arabia and the UAE pledged $8 billion almost immediately; Kuwait added $4 billion. Over the next three years, the Gulf trio supplied around $30 billion in grants, deposits, and petroleum shipments to shore up the Sisi regime. Later estimates put total Gulf support since 2013 at over $100 billion—a strategic bet on a military-led Egypt over any democratic experiment linked to the Muslim Brotherhood.
Chatham House goes further: leaked Defense Ministry recordings and U.S. official testimony suggest the UAE funded Tamarod, the petition movement that galvanized anti‑Morsi mobilization, while the rebellion itself was “orchestrated by figures with ties to the military.” The money trail, in other words, ran not just after the coup, but into the protests that legitimated it.
The logic from Abu Dhabi and Riyadh was consistent: the Brotherhood’s success at the ballot box threatened their monarchical model at home. As Chatham House notes, UAE Crown Prince Mohammed bin Zayed’s intense opposition to the Brotherhood translated into full-throated backing—financial and political—for Sisi’s new order. Aid was both carrot and verdict: punishing one Egypt, rewarding another.
External Cheerleaders: More Than a Regional Story
Israel, for its part, viewed Morsi’s ouster favorably; coup documentation lists Israel among states that supported the takeover, and an Israeli brigadier general later boasted that Israel had worked diplomatically to ensure Sisi’s rise—claims denied by Israeli officials but consistent with Jerusalem’s security preference for predictable military partners in Cairo. Whatever the precise extent of involvement, political alignment with the anti‑Morsi outcome was clear.
The US government endorsed the ongoing mass repression, with Secretary of State Kerry claiming the military was “restoring democracy.”
Could Morsi Have Done Anything—Anything at All?
The honest answer is: very little that would have changed the structural outcome within a year.
First, macroeconomic stabilization requires time and political consensus. IMF programs come with austerity, subsidy rationalization, and currency adjustments—steps that bleed popularity even in stable polities. The Asan Institute emphasizes that in new democracies economic reform is “the most urgent yet the most difficult task,” a task Morsi never had the coalition, institutional buy‑in, or calm streets to attempt.
Second, meaningful reform would have required probing the military economy—taxing it, auditing it, subordinating it to civilian oversight. That was a red line. As Grewal shows, the Egyptian military’s legacies made it allergic to real democratization, and once it judged its core interests under threat—or even at risk in the longer run—it intervened decisively.
Third, even basic governance faltered amid institutional sabotage. The deep state refused to be governed: courts nullified parliamentary gains; police often stood down; the bureaucracy slow‑rolled implementation. JSTOR Daily’s synthesis underscores how these state chokepoints enabled a counterrevolution long before July 2013. A president with no reliable coercive instruments, no legislative partner, and no fiscal cushion cannot deliver growth or order.
Fourth, even if Morsi had pivoted to a big‑tent coalition, foreign patrons were unmoved. The Gulf money spigot stayed mostly off while he was in office and gushed only after he fell. No public‑relations charm offensive could reverse the monarchies’ conviction that the Brotherhood’s democratic ascent was dangerous. He was judged, and found guilty of winning.
The “Myth of Fixing It in a Year”
There is a peculiar cruelty in how Morsi is remembered: as if a president with no parliament, a hostile bureaucracy, a non‑cooperative police apparatus, a judiciary undoing electoral outcomes, and a military preparing a coup could have “fixed” a country reeling from structural economic crises. The myth of the quick fix is not just analytically wrong; it is politically convenient. It allows authoritarians to say: “See, democracy failed.” But democracy did not fail. It was failed.
Consider the stark proof point: financing. In the first 18 months after the coup, Gulf states sent $23 billion in grants, deposits, and fuel to Sisi’s Egypt—precisely the stabilizing oxygen denied to Morsi. Later, think tanks and media tallied total Gulf support since 2013 in the tens of billions, with estimates exceeding $100 billion when deposits, oil shipments, and investments are counted. Dollars are not arguments; they are decisions. They tell us which Egypt the region was willing to underwrite.
The Counterfactual Temptation
Could Morsi have slowed down? Formed a grand coalition? Negotiated a lasting compact with the generals? Perhaps he could have delayed confrontation, softened rhetoric, or sequenced reforms differently. But every plausible alternative collides with the same immovable objects:
- A military with veto power over politics and business.
- A bureaucracy and judiciary predisposed to block him.
- Regional patrons determined to withhold oxygen until he was gone
- A polarized street that each side believed it could mobilize—but that the military alone could police.
At best, a savvier Morsi might have postponed the inevitable. He could not have prevented it.
Naming the Thing
The temptation to sanitize 2013 as a “popularly supported correction” is powerful. It is also dishonest. The military deposed an elected president, suspended the constitution, and arrested his associates. Whatever one thinks of the Brotherhood—and critics have ample grounds—the standard of democracy is not whether the winners are likable but whether the rules outlast the moment. In Egypt, they did not.
The world noticed, even if it did little. Within hours, Gulf billions telegraphed that the counterrevolution had patrons. Within weeks, the new regime received diplomatic and political cover from regional and extra‑regional partners who prized “stability.” In months, mass killings of demonstrators—most notoriously in Rabaa—signaled a terrifying new normal. The “transition” was over. The message to would‑be voters and candidates across the region was unmistakable.
What We Owe the Record
Has the condition of ordinary Egyptians improved? No. As noted by Al Fusaic, in 2023, Egypt's GDP-to-debt ratio surged from 81% in 2014 to 96%, with 47.4% of the FY 2024/2025 budget now allocated to debt servicing, limiting funds for healthcare and education. As subsidy cuts raised the cost of essentials like food and electricity, Sisi, facing public discontent, compared himself to Mao Zedong, urging Egyptians to endure the hardships in pursuit of his vision for a modernized Egypt.
While Egypt's infrastructure projects have deepened the country's debt, military generals who own the ACUD have profited billions. The lack of transparency and accountability mechanisms has enabled the military to quietly benefit, reinforcing a patronage network that supports Sisi's rule. These projects serve more as political tools to consolidate Sisi’s control than economic ventures, as they consistently fail to meet benchmarks due to non-competitive contracts.
In 2015, Egypt's National Council for Human Rights reported “right to life witnessed horrible deterioration” while the U.S. State Department highlighted restrictions on free expression, assembly, and press. Civil society has since been suffocated and powerless to face corruption and record-high inflation, with Sisi securing a third term in 2023 with 89.6% of the vote, reinforcing his control over the state, including its elections.
To say Morsi was doomed is not to romanticize his government’s choices. He alienated potential allies; made constitutional moves that spooked skeptics; and underestimated the ferocity of the forces aligned against him. But the record—documents, leaks, money flows, and the military’s own timeline—demands a harder conclusion: Egypt in 2012–2013 offered democracy without democrats in power or in opposition, and capitalism without capitalists willing to invest in uncertainty. In that gap, the men with guns and the neighbors with cash made the final call.
If there is any point to revisiting Morsi’s fall, it is this: do not confuse a designed failure with a failed design. Egypt’s brief democratic opening did not “prove” that Islamists cannot govern or that Egyptians are allergic to pluralism. It proved that when militaries own the economy, courts pick winners, police decide which laws to enforce, and foreign patrons prefer a uniform to a ballot, elections are theater. No cast can salvage the play.
Until those structural facts change, the next elected leader who steps onto Cairo’s stage—whoever they are, whatever they believe—will face the same trapdoor.
As seen, Sisi’s regime has essentially taken Egypt’s population hostage as Egyptians have not only been stripped of their civil and political rights but also starved as a function of inflation and subsidy cuts. In subjecting Egyptians to these conditions, Sisi has strengthened his patronage networks and his geopolitical leverage over the Americans and Europeans. Sisinomics is not sustainable and will hollow out the state’s resources until Egypt collapses or Sisi is toppled. As such, Egypt’s future remains bleak as corruption continues to poison every facet of life in the country, ultimately jeopardizing stability and progress for the Egyptian people.
The Lessons, Unlearned
Morsi, his Brotherhood and their harder-line allies say they played by the rules of democracy, only to be forced out by opponents who could not play it as well as them at the ballot box and so turned to the military for help. The lesson that the Islamists’ extreme fringe may draw: Democracy is rigged and violence is the only way to bring their dream of an Islamic state.
For Egyptians, the tragedy is that a fleeting democratic opening was measured by a yardstick designed for failure. The coup fractured the social contract further, normalized mass repression, and substituted construction megaprojects and debt-fueled “stability” for inclusive growth—an approach even friendly analysts now warn is unsustainable without perpetual bailouts. The same Gulf capitals that poured money in after 2013 have grown more conditional, pressing for asset sales and “reforms” that often deepen military‑commercial dominance rather than dilute it. The bill for 2013 has come due—several times over.
For the region, Morsi’s fate confirmed a chilling proposition: elections are allowed when they don’t threaten entrenched interests. Where they do, old orders mobilize patronage networks, media, courts, and budgets—and if necessary, tanks. The precedent helped freeze the so-called Arab Spring into an Arab Winter: a return to familiar bargains in which external patrons prefer “reliable” autocrats to messy democratic coalitions.
For democrats everywhere, the lesson is cautionary and practical. Liberal democracy is not only ballots; it is institutions strong enough to constrain militaries, civilian coalitions broad enough to survive polarization, and economic buffers deep enough to outlast bad months without panic. Egypt lacked all three in 2012–2013. Pretending otherwise flatters our illusions and insults those who tried to build something better against impossible odds.
Dr. Habib Siddiqui is a peace and human rights advocate with a distinguished career in operational excellence. He has successfully led Lean transformation initiatives across four major multinational corporations. His forthcoming book, Operational Excellence in the Process Industry: A Practitioner’s Guide to Lean Six Sigma, offers practical insights for driving efficiency and innovation in complex industrial environments.
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