Old paint on new walls: The curious case of the cabinet reshuffle

Although Egypt’s 2014 Constitution—amended in 2019—designates the prime minister and the cabinet as partners in shaping the country’s public policy, political practice tells a different story.

Many Egyptians continue to see the government not as a co-author of policy but as its administrative executor, implementing decisions formulated at a higher level. The constitutional text grants broad authority to the president, and the political custom that has prevailed since the 1952 revolution has entrenched this imbalance.

Political analysts often describe Egypt’s system as an inverted pyramid, with the president fixed at its narrow summit. Some scholars of politics, sociology and law have gone further, characterizing it as excessively presidential—particularly in moments of crisis, when power contracts inward rather than disperses outward.

Against this structural backdrop came a sweeping cabinet reshuffle, approved by the House of Representatives within minutes. Mostafa Madbouly remained prime minister, while 14 ministers were replaced.

The changes were extensive: additions, removals and reallocations on a scale rarely witnessed in Egypt’s contemporary political life. Khaled Abdel Ghaffar’s portfolio was trimmed to Minister of Health and Population after holding it alongside the post of Deputy Prime Minister for Human Development. Kamel Al-Wazir lost the industry portfolio and the title of Deputy Prime Minister, with his mandate now limited to the Ministry of Transport. The Ministry of Environment was merged with Local Development under Manal Awad. International cooperation was added to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Migration and Egyptian Expatriates Affairs, now headed by Ambassador Badr Abdelatty. The reshuffle also introduced one deputy prime minister and four deputy ministers for foreign affairs and housing.

The formation was shrouded in secrecy. As a result, analysts are left without clear answers as to why some ministers departed, others remained, new figures emerged, or certain portfolios were curtailed. Yet secrecy does not prevent interpretation. On the contrary, it thickens the questions.

What follows are ten indicators embedded in this reshuffle—indicators that reveal not merely personnel changes, but deeper structural dilemmas.

A curious reshuffle

First: Any cabinet reshuffle exposes the internal condition of the ruling elite. It signals whether the narrow circle of supreme authority is experiencing conflict or consensus, harmony or fracture. Ministerial selection is never neutral. It reflects how power understands the present and imagines the future.

Clear national goals attract those capable of advancing them. Confusion and improvisation generate their own logic and summon their own administrators. The sorting of names—who stayed, who left—reveals the criteria of evaluation and hints at the road the political system intends to take.

Second: Retaining Madbouly suggests, at least initially, that the ruling system continues to privilege development understood primarily as construction and expansion. Over the past years, political authority has often resembled a major contracting company. Stone has preceded people. Concrete has advanced faster than classrooms, hospitals and civic space.

It is therefore telling that the final clause in the government’s mandate speaks of “building the Egyptian person,” after a sequence of other priorities. The ordering is not incidental. It reflects a hierarchy in which the human being appears at the end of the list, as though added after the scaffolding has already risen.

Third: This continuity raises a fundamental question. Is it in Egypt’s interest to persist along the same development path despite its social costs? Poverty rates have risen. The middle class has been squeezed and compressed. Domestic and external debt have accumulated, layering burden upon burden.

Or has the time come to invert the equation—to treat the Egyptian citizen, not land, as the primary source of wealth? Such a shift would require unlocking dormant energies, releasing restrained capacities and converting human potential into genuine added value. Development, in this sense, is not concrete and steel alone. It is education that frees, health that empowers, innovation that multiplies opportunity and participation that anchors legitimacy. 

Fourth: Prior to the reshuffle, officials spoke of a transition toward a productive economy after years of heavy infrastructure spending. The rhetoric emphasized expanding manufacturing and reclaiming agricultural land, transforming agriculture into a viable economic sector capable of ensuring food security and generating export revenues.

Foreign currency, in this vision, would help stabilize the exchange rate of the Egyptian pound against the dollar through sustainable mechanisms rather than emergency injections. It would also ease the weight of mounting debt and its interest payments.

Yet keeping Madbouly in place may signal a postponement of this transition—or at least a reluctance to elevate it to first priority. The industry portfolio, previously combined with transport under Lt. Gen. Kamel Al-Wazir, has been separated. Al-Wazir spoke in recent months of reviving dormant factories and building new ones. Official media celebrated these announcements. But many citizens have yet to feel tangible change in their daily lives, where prices and pressures remain stubbornly present.

Fifth: The revival of the Ministry of Information, entrusted to State Information Service chief Diaa Rashwan, reflects the persistence of a traditional authoritarian view of media. In this conception, media is the true battlefield. Half the struggle, it is often said, is fought in the realm of narrative and image.

The state appears to prioritize polishing the picture over the grueling work required to repair substance. There remains a belief that monopolizing media space and investing heavily in it can shield authority, consolidate popularity and secure legitimacy.

The appointment of Rashwan—who vigorously defended official positions in his previous role—does not suggest a reassessment grounded in freedom, pluralism and the representation of diverse social interests. Media vitality depends on allowing differing voices to breathe within public space, not on sealing it.

Sixth: The reshuffle also recalibrated individual ambitions. Kamel Al-Wazir’s name had circulated as a potential successor to Madbouly. Khaled Abdel Ghaffar, while retaining the health portfolio, lost the title of deputy prime minister.

Such adjustments may indicate that the path to leading the cabinet has narrowed for both men. In highly centralized systems, ambition is permitted only within carefully drawn margins. Step beyond them, and authority retracts.

Seventh: The possibility of a woman heading the government appears deferred once more. In recent months, the name of former Planning Minister Hala El-Said was mentioned as a potential prime minister. Others proposed Rania Al-Mashat, citing her role in articulating what can be referred to as the “national development narrative,” presented in two versions as a theoretical framework for government action.

Yet the ceiling remains intact. Political leadership, it seems, has not yet extended its confidence to this step.

Eighth: The continuation of Education Minister Mohamed Abdel Latif suggests a limited responsiveness to negative public opinion regarding certain senior officials. Matters grew more complex with the appointment of Culture Minister Gehan Zaki, who faces a final court ruling for violating intellectual property law after being accused of excessive copying from a work by writer Soheir Abdel Hamid on the life and work of Egyptian author Qut Al-Qulub Al-Damardashiya.

Zaki awaits a ruling from the Court of Cassation. Even if the verdict is overturned, the controversy will not easily fade. It risks becoming a fresh wound in the government’s body, visible even if legally healed. She was ordered to pay compensation of 100,000 Egyptian pounds (about $1,960), and her defamation lawsuit against Abdel Hamid was dismissed.

Ninth: Since the January 25 Revolution, the Ministry of Culture has changed hands 10 times. Such rapid turnover suggests that the portfolio has become an arena of appeasement rather than a site of strategic vision.

This marginalization of culture reflects a deeper misreading. A significant portion of Egypt’s current crisis is cultural—rooted in patterns of thought, public discourse and collective imagination. Consequently, a significant portion of any durable solution must also be cultural. Without intellectual renewal and critical debate, institutional reform remains a structure without spirit.

Tenth: Finally, the swift approval of the new cabinet by the House of Representatives, at a moment when many anticipated at least a formal debate over the government’s program, underscores the ongoing subordination of the legislative authority to the executive.

The principle of separation of powers is not a decorative constitutional clause. It is the institutional expression of balance, accountability and shared responsibility. When parliament accelerates approval rather than exercises scrutiny, the inverted pyramid remains firmly in place.