Electoral law and the danger of normalizing silence

It was striking to observe the dismay expressed by several political parties in response to the latest amendments to the House of Representatives election law, passed by Parliament on Sunday. These reactions suggested a degree of surprise, arguably misplaced, at the limited scope of the revisions. Yet, in the weeks preceding the vote, public statements and private indications had made it abundantly clear that neither the number of seats in the House nor the structure of the electoral system—a 50-50 split between individual candidacy and closed-list voting—would be substantially altered.

To their credit, the Civil Democratic Movement and a number of parties and public figures did submit alternative proposals. These were conveyed both through the National Dialogue and, more discreetly, in private consultations.

Suggestions ranged from reducing the share allocated to the closed-list system to 25%, to introducing a proportional list component, or reserving the closed-list segment for constitutionally mandated groups such as Christians, workers, farmers, youth, persons with disabilities, and Egyptians abroad.

Nonetheless, over the course of the previous legislative term, there was no discernible effort to develop a coherent draft law with specific provisions and defined allocations. There was no attempt to initiate public discussion within political parties or civil society organizations, nor to generate consensus around a viable alternative.

As Egypt prepares for legislative elections affecting both chambers of Parliament, there is a noticeable lack of intellectual and political groundwork in place.

In practice, the debate on electoral law has remained conspicuously absent from the public sphere. Beyond a handful of media appearances, there has been little to suggest engagement. Whether by design or inertia, political forces appeared to acquiesce, tacitly or otherwise, to the exclusion of the public from what is, by any measure, a matter of broad democratic concern.

The resulting amendment, confined to minor adjustments to the number of list candidates and some constituency boundaries, leaves intact the basic composition of Parliament: 284 seats determined by closed-list voting, and 284 by individual candidacy. The legislation also increases the financial deposit required to stand for election.

Limited space for movement

This is not an attempt to assign blame to the relatively weaker actors in the political arena: those parties and groups operating within a restricted public space, whether through Parliament, professional syndicates, or civic organizations. Yet the normalization of silence, even under constraint, is troubling.

Democratic representation concerns not only political elites but a population of more than 100 million, the majority of whom encounter politics only once every five years during electoral cycles.

Even if the opposition cannot realistically expect to impose its preferred vision, it is mistaken to assume that persistent engagement, advocacy, coordination, and public pressure will yield no results whatsoever.

Political fatigue is understandable. But the case for reinvigorating public discourse on electoral and constitutional matters remains compelling. Social media, university debates, professional forums, and grassroot initiatives all have a role to play. Even when prospects appear bleak, there is a duty to inform new generations of their rights, the obstacles they face, and the means of collective engagement.

Silence, by contrast, not only weakens current efforts but risks compromising future ones.

Public interest handled in private

Recent months have proved that public discussion of legal and political reform is not impossible. Controversies surrounding the criminal procedure code, labor law, medical liability legislation, and rental disputes have generated visible debate, both within the political establishment and in civil society.

While few of these discussions produced clear legislative victories for the opposition, they have led to measurable gains. These include limited amendments, increased media coverage of sensitive issues, and modest expansions of permissible political discourse.

Crucially, they have revived activity in long-dormant spaces: party offices, legal workshops, professional syndicates, and academic institutions. Combined with social media discussions, these developments have helped restore a degree of public engagement.

This momentum could have been channeled into a coordinated legislative initiative on electoral reform. Instead, the opposition has been left with scattered proposals and limited outcomes from the National Dialogue, some of which effectively endorsed the status quo, or proposed modest variations such as reserving 15 districts for proportional lists or splitting the current closed-list segment between proportional and absolute systems.

If it is unrealistic to expect the opposition to impose change, it is no less misguided to assume that public mobilization is futile. The priority should be to engage the broader public, not only as voters but as political stakeholders, and to build a cumulative process of participation and awareness.

In contrast, the decision to keep discussions about the electoral law confined to confidential meetings between political factions and the state has reinforced the core logic of the current system. This logic consolidates parliamentary representation in a few dominant parties because of the structure of the closed-list model.

It has marginalized competing parties, which receive no representation unless they win outright. It has also entrenched electoral constituencies so vast—spanning three, six, or even eleven governorates—that a list winning in only one area can lose the overall seat despite a strong local showing. The system discourages diversity and diminishes proportionality.

Applying a winner-takes-all closed-list system to such an extent, while limiting individual candidacy to half of the seats, represents a regression in Egypt’s experience with electoral design. Over the years, the country has alternated between individual and list-based systems, shaped by a combination of political interests, judicial rulings, and disputes over districting and voter distribution. These iterations aimed to ensure fair representation in accordance with Article 102 of the Constitution.

Sovereignty to the people 

The Constitution does allow considerable discretion in electoral system design. But fairness of representation cannot be reduced to numerical balance alone. When constituency boundaries are drawn without regard for demographic, social, or cultural considerations, and when smaller governorates or political formations are excluded in favor of nominal compliance with constitutional quotas, the result is distortion, not inclusion. Proportional representation systems can fulfill these obligations in a more balanced and democratic fashion.

In its 2012 ruling dissolving the People’s Assembly, the Supreme Constitutional Court interpreted Article 3 of the 2011 Constitutional Declaration, “Sovereignty belongs solely to the people, who are the source of all authority. The people exercise this sovereignty, protect it, and preserve national unity.” This article is echoed in Article 4 of the current Constitution, which adds that national unity is based on equality, justice, and equal opportunities.

The Court held that sovereignty must not be monopolized by any group, and that all citizens should have equal influence in shaping national policy. Voter will, it added, is expressed through free and equal elections.

That judgment upheld the principle of equal opportunity for both independent and party-affiliated candidates. Today, the problem is more severe.

Public confidence in fair representation is eroding. In 2020, two parties secured over 60% of parliamentary seats. Only 96 independents were elected, many through the closed list, and eight other parties collectively gained no more than 10 seats. Such outcomes speak not only to legal design but also to the deeper absence of political life on the ground.

Ultimately, voters are not statistics. They cannot be marginalized until election day, only to be summoned to the ballot box without voice or choice.