هذا التقرير متاح أيضًا بـ العربية
On 26 August, during celebrations marking the Prophet Muhammad’s birthday, Sisi directed the Egyptian government to prepare a comprehensive report documenting achievements during his years in power and present it to the public. The aim, he said, was to inform citizens of the scale of the work undertaken, the projects implemented and the money spent on them.
Because presidential directives in Egypt are orders to be carried out immediately, government ministries and agencies quickly mobilised their resources for a large event showcasing what they describe as the state’s achievements under Sisi. Preparations began for what the media promoted as the “Egypt Forum 2026”, or the “Achievements Conference,” as some called it. Intense media hype and a broad promotional campaign preceded the event, stirring debate and controversy.
Genuine achievements do not necessarily need conferences to showcase them or media campaigns to promote them: citizens should feel their effects directly through their living standards and the quality of services they receive. Nevertheless, on presidential orders, the forum went ahead from 19 to 25 October at the St. Regis conference centre in the New Administrative Capital. Lengthy sessions and discussions, most of them involving Sisi, filled the programme.
Beyond the lavish halls, extravagant organisation, official presentations and figures, and rhetoric recycled at every occasion, a more pressing question remains: what did this forum actually add to Egyptians’ lives? Did the government’s figures convince people of the scale of its claimed achievements? Or did the gap between what appeared on the conference screens and Egyptians’ daily experience of economic pressure and rising living costs turn the forum into another test of the credibility of official claims, rather than an opportunity to build trust in them?
Questions over timing
The conference’s timing and the implications of its stated purpose were the first sources of controversy, prompting questions, criticism and even mockery from some observers. The region is experiencing unprecedented turmoil, from Gaza and Yemen to Sudan, Libya, Ethiopia and the Horn of Africa, alongside the raging war between Iran and the US and the highly complex economic, security and political challenges it has created. Yet the Egyptian government appeared focused on mobilising resources for a major conference showcasing the authorities’ achievements over their years in power. This contradiction raised questions about official priorities at an exceptionally sensitive moment for the region.
The controversy extended beyond the timing to the idea itself, the elaborate staging and the high costs, at a time when people are struggling to make ends meet. Devoting an event of this scale, supported by extensive government and media mobilisation, to cataloguing years of achievements is a strategy that ran its course in the 1950s and 1960s, when authorities tended to use mass conferences and official occasions to present their own accounts of success.
Yet the most striking contradiction is that what appeared to preoccupy the government and the authorities was not a lack of achievements or their limited impact on citizens’ lives. Rather, according to Sisi’s own rhetoric, it was the failure to promote them adequately and convince the public of how much had been accomplished despite the challenges facing the Egyptian state. This points to misplaced priorities among those running the country.
Genuine participants or stage dressing?
Before the forum opened, assurances were given that it would welcome different intellectual and political currents, hear differing views and draw on the expertise of leading scientists and academics to discuss the challenges facing the state. Yet, according to participants’ accounts, some incidents during the sessions exposed a clear gap between these stated goals and what happened in practice. They raised questions about the seriousness of the dialogue and the room available for dissent.
The experience of Dr Amgad Omara, former dean of the Faculty of Commerce at Menoufia University, offers perhaps one of the clearest examples. In an account published on his Facebook page, he described his participation in a roundtable on increasing foreign currency resources and managing state debt as a “humiliating” experience, despite having been invited by presidential directive.
The Egyptian academic, who has extensive experience in the field, said he had taken 1,000 Egyptian pounds from his monthly pension, which does not exceed 5,000 pounds (less than $100), to cover travel costs and attend. He was surprised to find that the session had been delayed by more than an hour and a half. He also said the seating arrangements reflected what he saw as clear discrimination: ministers and senior officials occupied luxurious, comfortable seats in an inner circle, while other guests sat in outer rows on narrow, uncomfortable chairs.
Omara’s concerns extended beyond the organisation to how the discussion was conducted. He said the session became a series of questions that appeared to have been prepared in advance, put by the moderator to ministers and senior officials. They monopolised the discussion for more than two and a half hours, leaving invited experts and academics with no real opportunity to contribute their views or proposals on one of Egypt’s most pressing economic crises.
Omara, who holds a doctorate in a field relevant to the session, said he felt insulted and marginalised after the discussion ended without attendees being invited to offer their views or ask questions, apart from half a minute taken up by a general comment before the session closed. He argued that participants from outside official circles were treated as mere “decor” to complete the scene and create the appearance of dialogue, rather than as genuine partners in discussing economic challenges and seeking solutions. He ended with a question that went beyond his personal experience to the premise of the forum itself: what is the point of inviting experts, intellectuals and citizens to a conference supposedly devoted to dialogue and exchanging views if they can only listen to officials, without participating meaningfully? Was the aim to draw on their knowledge and expertise to address the country’s crises, or to use their presence to lend social legitimacy to an official narrative intended to improve the government’s image and defend its record?
Government figures and citizens’ daily lives
Much of the forum resembled a one-way political and media monologue. Sisi, the prime minister, cabinet members and carefully selected media and elite figures appeared to speak with one voice, offering almost identical accounts. They sought to present the record of Sisi’s past 12 years in power as a series of exceptional, unprecedented achievements which, according to this narrative, could not have been accomplished under any other leadership or within the same period.
Sisi reinforced this account, saying that what had been achieved during his years in power would have taken about 30 years under normal circumstances. Prime Minister Mostafa Madbouly repeated the estimate. He became so emotional while discussing one project that he broke into tears, with the president sharing his emotion.
This is not the first time Sisi has invoked “boosting morale” to justify major decisions or projects that have prompted debate over their economic viability and financial cost. He used the same rationale when discussing the New Suez Canal project, which cost about $8.2bn, saying that one of its aims was to raise Egyptians’ morale. At the time, the project faced widespread criticism over its place among national priorities and its expected economic returns relative to the money spent. Now the same logic has resurfaced, directed at a different audience. Raising the public’s morale was once presented as a justification for a massive national project; raising the government’s morale has now become, according to the president, one reason for organising a major forum to showcase its record and defend it against criticism.
This approach exposes the most politically contentious contradiction: after years of asking citizens to bear the cost of reform and wait patiently for results, the authorities now seem to regard public criticism as a burden on the government’s morale requiring presidential intervention to support it. They do so instead of treating that criticism as a signal to review policies and assess their impact on society.
Ultimately, this contradiction raises a fundamental question about the purpose of the forum, which Sisi said would become an annual event, and the message it reinforced. Was the aim to convince Egyptians of the achievements made, or to persuade them to support the government and refrain from criticism even while a wide gap remained between official figures and their daily lives? Or was it intended to bolster the president’s popularity amid public frustration over the failure to meet even citizens’ minimum expectations and the growing burdens they bear?