Читать книгу The Political Economy of Reforms in Egypt - Khalid Ikram - Страница 11
ОглавлениеIntroduction
When a country has a continuous history of more than five thousand years, dating the genesis of an issue requiring reform can become a little arbitrary. It seems that in Egypt’s case, no matter which date is chosen, it is almost always possible to look back to find pre-echoes of political-economy issues that are being discussed today. “This country is a palimpsest,” wrote Lady Duff Gordon in 1863 “in which the Bible is written over Herodotus, and the Koran over that” (Gordon 1969).
Even the time of the pharaohs offers important instances of matters with which present-day administrations continue to grapple. A modern policymaker would be no stranger, for example, to wrestling with problems of controlling and distributing the Nile’s waters; to managing an extremely centralized administration; to examining issues raised by the level of government intrusion in the economy; to assessing the consequences for the country’s cropping patterns of farmers’ not having to pay for irrigation water; to estimating the taxes to be levied in the coming year; to concerning himself with the role of religion in the polity; and many more questions that can trace their roots to pharaonic times.1
Or one could start with Napoleon’s expedition to Egypt (1798–1801) because it marked the beginning of the most recent serious interaction between Egypt and the West and has political, economic, social, and cultural consequences that continue to unfold to our day. Moreover, the reign of Muhammad Ali (1805–49), who assumed power after the departure of the French, and his successors saw the introduction of many policies—such as those relating to the ownership of land; the expansion of the canal network; the steady replacement of basin by perennial irrigation in order to meet the requirement of increasing the country’s limited cultivated and cropped area; the government’s sponsorship of industrialization; protection against imports and the consequences of removing it; the enlargement and modernization of the armed forces; the raising of revenues to pay for the policies of economic expansion; the construction of the Suez Canal and the resulting deeper integration of Egypt into the international economy; the rise of external indebtedness and the political vulnerability that it created; and several others that have molded much of Egypt’s contemporary economy and society. These policies delivered many of the strengths that buttress the country but also initiated problems that continue to engage the attention of today’s regimes.
This book has a more limited compass. The discussion focuses on the era since the Free Officers staged a coup on July 23, 1952, but refers back to earlier periods to show how an issue arose and how deeply, with time or reiteration, it has become embedded in the political and economic structures of the country. It discusses the principal economic challenges that Egypt faced and looks at the interaction of politics and economics that went into determining the policies devised to deal with the challenges. In discussing these policies, one must almost inevitably raise the question of whether other approaches would have been more effective.
Four points concerning the approach and the scope of the book should be stated at the outset. First, this is not a book about the politics of Egypt per se; rather, it deals with how political and economic variables interacted to produce the crucial economic outcomes for the country since 1952.
Second, its underlying assumption is that the most important responsibilities of a government are to create a better life for its citizens and to keep the country free from external domination. While many different elements go into the creation of a better and more secure life, the economic element is critical; this includes policies that would bring about a sustainable development of the economy and a better distribution of its fruits. These criteria are taken as the touchstone against which to appraise the effectiveness of economic strategies.
Third, much of Egypt’s economic development since 1952 has involved the use of foreign resources, contracted bilaterally, multilaterally, or commercially. One could even say that a good deal of Egypt’s political maneuvering since 1952 has been in the quest to obtain such resources. How providers of external resources reacted to Egypt’s economic policymaking, and what the impact of their policy advice was, therefore requires scrutiny.
Fourth, there is no attempt to provide a recipe for dealing with an immediate situation, such as, for example, that resulting from the overthrow of the Mubarak regime in January 2011. The discussion of the way forward is on the enduring structural issues in the economic field that will have to be tackled by whatever regime is in power over at least the next two or three decades.
The Importance of Economic Health
Egypt’s economic future matters. With a population that accounts for about 40 percent of the Arab world; with a preeminence in Arab culture, education, and media; with a large and well-qualified diaspora that underpins the economic and social development of many other Arab countries; with a strategic location where the Suez Canal provides the shortest passage between Europe and Asia; and with the largest armed forces among the Arab countries, Egypt should rank as one of the most important countries in the world. And yet there is a perception that the country’s performance has fallen short of its potential.
While many reasons—historical, political, and other—have contributed to this state of affairs, economic weaknesses have been responsible for many of the country’s most serious political ills. To take but one example: even 150 years ago, the failure to generate sufficient foreign-exchange earnings created both the need for Egypt to borrow externally for the construction of the Suez Canal and also its inability to service this debt. The default provided the creditor countries a pretext to set up the Caisse de la Dette Publique in 1876 that, together with the “advisors” imposed on the Egyptian ministries (especially after the British occupation of Egypt in 1882), dictated Egypt’s principal economic policies and appropriated the country’s financial and material resources for the benefit of the creditors. The occupation continued de jure until the ratification of the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty in 1936 and de facto until the withdrawal of the British troops in 1954. Economic weakness cost Egypt its political sovereignty.
Lest one think that this is all ancient history, more recent examples of the interactions of economics and politics impacting powerfully on Egypt can readily be offered. Thus, because Egypt could not mobilize sufficient resources domestically to pay for the construction of the High Dam at Aswan, it had to seek funds from abroad. When the foreign loans that had originally been expected were canceled, President Gamal Abd al-Nasser took the political decision on July 26, 1956 to nationalize the Suez Canal and use the transit fees to pay for the dam’s construction. “The Canal will pay for the dam!” said President Nasser, according to two French eyewitnesses (Lacouture and Lacouture 1958, 472). This was a political policy undertaken in pursuit of an economic goal. The nationalization led to a war with the United Kingdom and France—the major shareholders of the Suez Canal Company—that in addition to damage inflicted on Egypt’s infrastructure induced the country to reorient its political and economic relations away from the West and toward the Soviet Union. These political actions had long-term economic consequences. They cut off Egypt’s access to the financial and technical resources of the West, thus potentially restricting the investment and growth rate of the country and constraining it to rely for its development on the less efficient technology of the communist countries.
Ironically, the political fallout from economic weakness did not impact only on Egypt—the British victory in the Suez episode was Pyrrhic. The uncertainty created in the region by the hostilities, the interruptions to trade caused by Egypt’s blocking of the Suez Canal, and the spike in oil prices made investors very nervous and led to an attack on sterling. In order to defend the exchange rate, the Bank of England was compelled to draw down its reserves (between September and November the United Kingdom lost 15 percent of its gold and dollar reserves), which began to approach a level at which a devaluation of the British currency looked inevitable.2 This alarmed the British government, which felt that a debased sterling “would probably lead to a breakup of the sterling area or (possibly even the dissolution of the Commonwealth) . . . and currency instability at home leading to severe inflation.”3 The government approached the United States for financial help, but the latter agreed to offer this assistance only under a number of conditions, such as complying with a U.S.-sponsored United Nations resolution that required Britain to quickly relinquish its military gains and withdraw its troops from the Suez Canal area. Subramanian (2011, 15) reports a senior advisor to the British government writing, “This was blackmail. . . . But we were in no position to argue.” Economic vulnerability had enfeebled Britain’s political hand and erased the country’s diplomatic weight. Another case of economic weakness begetting political subservience.
Other examples can be offered where external pressures resulting from Egypt’s economic weakness produced serious long-term results. With continuing inability to match government revenues and expenditures, Egypt was compelled to accept diktats from the International Monetary Fund (IMF) in 1977 to cut subsidies on bread and other consumer items. This resulted in the worst riots to take place in Egypt since 1952, with considerable damage to public infrastructure and production facilities. Perhaps even worse, the incident left scars on policymakers’ psyches that have to this day made them very wary of undertaking reform policies.
The book covers too much ground to allow a simple summary, but some points are worth emphasizing.
First, the overriding issue during the period covered by this study concerns the role of the state in the economy. The state spent the earlier part of the period imposing an extensive set of discretionary controls on the economy, and the latter part in dismantling many of them. Neither experience was entirely satisfactory. The task defined in Ikram (1980, 8) still remains: “The government will have to continue trying to strike a balance between the conflicting objectives of liberalization for the sake of productivity growth and intervention for the sake of an equitable distribution of income.”
Second, accelerating the GDP growth rate is imperative; Egypt’s demographic dynamics do not permit an alternative.4 Every two years Egypt adds a New Zealand or Ireland to its population; every three, a Denmark or Finland; every four, an Israel or Switzerland; and every five, a Sweden or Portugal. And while it adds the population, it does not add the capital assets, the technical knowledge, the institutions, and the governance of these countries.
Moreover, Egypt is not only experiencing a bulge in the population’s working-age cohort, but it also has an even larger “echo” generation below the age of ten that will enter the labor market in the near future. In 2016 there were about 10 million Egyptians aged 25–29, but also more than 13 million below the age of five years. This age structure offers a potential dividend, but also creates a danger.
The dividend is provided by the rapid increase in Egypt’s labor force and productive capacity, while the experience of countries that have passed through a similar demographic transition suggests that it could also raise the country’s savings rate. But if the economy fails to create a sufficient number of meaningful jobs, the demographic dividend could turn into a demographic nightmare as hundreds of thousands of young men and women crowd Egypt’s streets desperately seeking jobs, income, security, housing, and access to health and education for themselves and their families—a mouth-watering prospect for a recruiter for any extremist ideology.
Third, Egypt’s experience since 1952 also shows the influence exerted by external forces in the country’s development. These external forces have been foreign governments, international agencies, and commercial financial institutions. The influence can come from the financial resources they provide, from the technical advice they offer, or more generally from a combination of the two. The experience suggests that Egypt should have been more proactive in deciding which elements of the economic advice to act upon and which parts to decline. But “Who pays the piper calls the tune” remains the most compelling maxim of international politics, and Egypt will only be able to reduce external political pressure if it takes more serious measures to mobilize domestic resources and to correct the anti-export bias in its incentive structure.
Fourth, Egypt is ripe for “second generation” reforms. The distinction between first- and second-generation reforms is to some extent a semantic question and the two forms of reform can overlap. However, Naím (1994) provides a useful way of classifying the main differences. First-generation reforms can be undertaken relatively quickly, focus on actions that need to be taken (on “inputs,” so to speak), and face political opposition that is largely diffused. Examples of first-generation reforms would be macroeconomic stabilization, reductions in import tariffs, budget cuts, changes in tax rates and coverage, privatization, and similar policies. These are technically easy to identify and, if the authorities are serious about economic policy, the policies need not take very long to implement.
On the other hand, as Navia and Velasco (2003, 265–68) point out, second-generation reforms are often “merely statements of desired outcomes (for example, civil service reform or improving tax collection), without a clear sense of policy design.” Moreover, second-generation reforms frequently raise a different level of technical difficulty. As Navia and Velasco put it: “Any economist can tell you that curtailing inflation requires lower money growth; fewer are prepared to put forward a proposal for supervising operations in derivatives by banks and other financial institutions, or for solving failures in the market for health insurance.” Thus, for first-generation reforms, identifying the outcome to aim at and the means to attain it are both, in principle at least, fairly straightforward; for second-generation reforms, the desired outcome may be discernible only in a rather general form, and the means of attaining it can be far from clear.
Moreover, second-stage reforms commonly take much longer to implement because they require fundamental changes in the organizing and/or functioning of institutions—their chief aim is to improve governance. And the widespread experience is that faith-, ideology-, and culture-based attachments to institutional structures, or those rooted in a long history, are fiercely resistant, or even immune, to policy. Thus, for example, second-stage reforms generally require a reform of the bureaucracy. This is seldom easy and could be particularly difficult in Egypt. More than one-fourth of the country’s labor force is employed in various parts of the government—in 2016 there was one government employee for every thirteen citizens (even this figure excludes the Armed Forces)—and is set in its attitudes and methods of working. The reforms might also require creating entirely new institutions or politically empowering existing ones, such as regulatory agencies that would actually restrain monopolistic or oligopolistic behavior by firms. They would also require fundamental changes in the functioning of the commercial judicial system in order to speed up judgments and to reduce the case burden on judges. And measures would also have to be put in place to ensure that judicial decisions were implemented promptly.
The two stages of reforms also raise different issues of political economy. Apart from some exceptions—such as businesses that might be compelled to compete against international firms because reforms had cut import tariffs—the groups affected by first-stage reforms are often too fragmented or too poor to carry much political clout and thus their concerns can be set aside more easily. But, as Navia and Velasco (2003, 268) put it, “By contrast, the set of interests potentially affected [by changes in governance] in the next stage reads like a Who’s Who of highly organized and vocal groups: teachers’ and judicial unions, the upper echelons of the public bureaucracy, state and local governments, owners and managers of private monopolies, and the medical establishment.” Their resistance can prove lethal to the reform program.
Fifth, most of Egypt’s GDP growth of the last fifty years has come from adding more labor and particularly capital; the contribution of total factor productivity (TFP), that is, the efficiency with which factors of production are used, has been very small. Productivity in this sense results not only from technology change, but also from any other changes that influence the efficiency with which inputs are converted into output.5 Of particular importance are such factors as changes in regulations and the working of institutions that govern the economy. A discussion of the principal conceptual issues relating to TFP measurement and of Egyptian data problems will be found in Ikram (2006, 101–16); here only the main results from recent studies will be summarized.
A paper by Mohammed (2001) estimated that for the period 1965–2000, capital accumulation contributed about two-thirds of the growth in real GDP, growth in human-capital-adjusted labor about one-third.6 Egypt was becoming a capital-intensive producer. The capital intensity of production is not surprising in view of the overvalued exchange rate and the negative real interest rates that prevailed in Egypt over much of the period. The contribution of TFP between 1965 and 2000 was mildly negative; this says that any combination of labor and capital would have produced less output in 2000 than it could have in 1965. Productivity growth appears to have been important mainly during 1975–80, when it accounted for about 14 percent of GDP growth. Estimates for more recent periods—for example, Boopen, Sawkut, and Ramessur (2009) and the Conference Board (2015)—continue to show the same picture of a very low contribution by productivity growth, including zero or negative contribution from 2007 through 2014. The IMF (2005) estimated the long-run (1961–2004) average contribution of TFP to Egypt’s GDP growth at only 0.9 percent, and IMF (2015) put the growth of TFP between 2004 and 2010 at a mere 0.8 percent per year. World Bank (2015) estimated that during the ten years 2004–13, growth was mainly driven by capital, which on average contributed 70 percent of overall growth, while labor and TFP growth contributed 18 and 11 percent respectively. There is a wide consensus, therefore, that in the period from 1965 to 2016 as a whole, TFP growth contributed very little, if at all, to the growth of Egypt’s GDP.
Pushing the story back to 1950 reaffirms the same finding. Maddison (1970, 53–54) calculated that in the period 1950–65, changes in productivity contributed only 20 percent to the growth of Egypt’s income. However, Maddison arbitrarily assigned weights of 0.5 to both labor and capital. If we instead substitute the weights estimated from more recent studies, productivity improvements would account for barely 12 percent of the growth of GDP during that period.
These are very different from the findings for the fast-growing developing countries and the developed countries. The Nobel laureate Robert Solow (1957), who pioneered the technique of growth accounting, estimated that for the period 1909–49 capital accumulation contributed 11 percent to the growth of the United States’ GDP, increases in labor contributed 38 percent, while the remaining 51 percent came as a result of technical progress. This pattern appears to have stood the test of time; for example, Denison (1962, 1985) came to broadly similar conclusions for the period 1929–82.
Egypt’s experience with TFP growth also differs markedly from that of the fast-growing East Asian countries. Estimates of the contribution of TFP differ between various studies, but the broad conclusions are that for South Korea in the period 1960–2005, increases in physical capital accounted for about 40 percent of the GDP growth, increases in labor about 30 percent, while increases in TFP contributed about 30 percent. Over roughly the same period, the contribution of capital to the growth of output in Taiwan was about 46 percent, that of labor about 18 percent, while TFP growth contributed nearly 36 percent. For the high-performing East Asian countries (Hong Kong, Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, and Thailand, in addition to South Korea and Taiwan) as a group, the average growth of GDP between 1960 and 2003 was 6.5 percent a year; of this, capital contributed nearly 49 percent, labor 25 percent, and TFP growth 26 percent (World Bank 1993a, 60–70; Thorbecke and Wan 1999, 3–20; Kim and Hong 1999, 183, table 8-5; Stiglitz and Yusuf 2001, 16, tables 1.3 and 1.4).
The experience of China provides further confirmation of the importance of factor productivity to growth. The World Bank (1997b) estimated that TFP growth accounted for 30 to 58 percent of China’s growth during 1978–95. A more recent and very detailed growth accounting exercise by Yueh (2013) for three decades from 1979 estimated that about 45 percent of the country’s growth could be attributed to capital accumulation, and about 30 percent to TFP; the rest was contributed by increases and improvements in the labor force. A decomposition of the gains from TFP indicated that 8 percent of total GDP growth was explained by the transfer of labor and capital from public-sector enterprises to the private sector. About 20 percent of growth was explained by institutional improvements, such as providing greater flexibility for the internal movement of labor liberalizing the financial sector. This analysis therefore highlights the importance of the contribution of TFP to total growth, and within TFP, the importance of improving the efficiency of institutions (Yueh 2013).
The findings on Egypt’s TFP growth indicate that GDP growth in Egypt has resulted more from using additional labor and capital than from using these factors more efficiently—“the result more of perspiration than inspiration,” as Paul Krugman, another Nobel laureate, put it (Krugman 1997). If Egypt’s TFP growth does not step up substantially, generating the required growth of GDP will require rates of increase in capital, savings, and in the quality of human resources that may not be feasible (Ikram 2006, 314–15; Hevia and Loayza 2011, 21–25 offer estimates of increases in investment and savings rates that would be required under different assumptions of GDP and TFP growth; the rates are about double those sustained by Egypt in the last fifty years). Indeed, this underscores that Egypt’s major long-term economic challenge is to shift from a strategy based on factor accumulation (principally that of increasing the input of capital) to one that is based on productivity growth.
The failures of productivity growth inevitably impacted Egypt’s competitiveness in the world economy. Between 2007 and 2014, Egypt’s competitiveness ranking for the macroeconomic environment and major indicators deteriorated. Thus, compared with 148 countries, Egypt’s ranking fell from 115 in 2007 to 140 in 2014; for government budget balance, from 119 to 146; for gross national savings (as percent of GDP), from 65 to 108; for general government debt, from 109 to 122; and for the annual percentage change in inflation, from 106 to 129 (World Bank 2015, 35, table III.1).7
A little more elaboration of the central message might be helpful. Thus, sixth, the essential messages of the book would be on the following lines.
1. During the past two hundred years, Egypt’s policymakers have been confronted with challenges of which a surprising number have proved enduring and continue to resonate today. Some of these challenges have been dictated by nature, such as the relative fixity of the arable land and the declining per capita availability of water. Some are a combination of nature and human agency, such as the inexorable growth of the population. But many represent inadequate policy attention, such as the failure to strengthen institutions that would support the rule of law, boost competition in the economy, and mobilize more resources for development and thereby avoid the political and economic vulnerabilities associated with external indebtedness. The recurrent political-economy message from Egypt’s experience is that concerns about regime survival trumped considerations of economic vulnerability in policymakers’ calculations, and that economic reforms tended to be adopted only when a crisis had extinguished all other options.
2. If one were asked to sum up in a few words the reasons for Egypt’s failure to perform to its economic potential, one could do worse than to say that its roots lay in the fragile political legitimacy of successive regimes, who sought salvation by continually increasing public consumption expenditures—between 1965 and 2016, real public consumption expenditures increased at an average rate of about 4.4 percent a year, well ahead of the population growth rate. The survival strategy also required regimes to minimize resource mobilization from domestic sources. This meant that taxes, and in particular the personal income tax, could be touched only very gingerly. The ratio of tax revenue to GDP in 1952 was estimated at 14.8 percent (el-Edel, 1982, 140) and at 14.4 percent in 1965 (World Bank, 1977), rising to a peak of 26 percent in 1982, and declining thereafter to about 16 percent in 2016; over the period as a whole the tax ratio averaged about 16.2 percent. About two-thirds of the total tax revenue during 1965–2016 was provided by indirect taxes—on production, consumption, imports, stamp duty, and so on; another 30 percent on business profits; personal income tax provided only about 7 percent of total tax revenue. The reluctance to tap domestic resources for revenues in turn compelled rulers to rely unduly on external economic rents and exogenous resources, and heightened Egypt’s vulnerability to foreign pressures.
There is a close convergence between the explanations offered by many writers for the political-economy behavior of successive Egyptian regimes. The reasons provided by, for example, Baker (1978, 167–68), Cooper (1979, 482–84), Roy (1980, 3–9), McDermott (1988), Springborg (1989), Waterbury (1983, 1985), Hansen (1991, 116–17, and 250–54). Wahba (1994), Marcou (2008), Soliman (2011), Kandil (2012), and others essentially boil down to the following paraphrase.
Egyptian regimes have felt exceptionally vulnerable because they lacked the legitimacy of a democratic election. The basic political-economy element in their survival strategy was to placate the population by offering an abundance of consumer and other subsidies (at times even cigarettes and halawa [a dessert] were subsidized); free education and health care; guaranteed employment; controlled rents for housing; redistribution of landholdings; regular increases in bonuses, industrial wages, and government salaries; ceilings on interest rates, and so on. The regimes also could not risk antagonizing the population by increasing taxes; hence they mobilized much of their resources from economic rents, whose burden for the most part fell on foreigners. The strategy for regime survival tended to be short-termist: a continual search for band-aids, most of which were to be provided by foreigners, especially in the shape of external assistance and debt forgiveness or restructuring. The Churchillian mantra of offering one’s own “blood, sweat, toil, and tears” never caught fire among the regimes’ leaders.
The political-economy strategy was threatened by two factors. First, the rapidly growing population and its continuing expectations of subsidized items required a constant expansion of public consumption expenditure. Second, Egypt’s foreign policy initiatives, especially from 1952 to 1974, carried very substantial costs. Egypt had projected itself as the leader of the Arabs; a leader of the Muslim world; a leader of Africa; a leader of the “nonaligned” group of countries; champion of Palestinian rights; supporter of Algerian resistance to French rule; a bulwark of the Third World against the West. It had been involved in wars with Israel in 1948, 1956, 1967, and 1973, plus a “war of attrition” (March 1969 to August 1970) and a war in Yemen against Saudi Arabia from 1962 to 1967, and in hostilities against Libya in 1977. All these severely depleted Egypt’s economic, financial, and human capital. The cumulative effect of these factors came to a head in the early 1970s.
The growing demands of the different constituencies could be met only by a continuous enlargement of the economic cake, that is, a sustained increase in the GDP. But the country’s political-economic strategy contained two fundamental contradictions that caused it to founder. One, the rising consumption demands worked against the imperative of increasing domestic savings to pay for the investment that would propel GDP growth. This meant that Egypt had to look to external sources to finance the gap between investment and domestic savings. But, two, the anti-West stance adopted by Egypt until 1974 depleted Egypt’s political capital in the world’s biggest sources of finance and modern technology, and drastically restricted the country’s access to these resources, especially those available on concessional terms.
In sum, Egypt’s failure to perform to its economic potential resulted chiefly from internal political pressures to maintain increases in public consumption while not mobilizing sufficient revenues from domestic sources and, especially until 1974, foreign policy overstretch. Major economic reforms tended to be introduced only in the wake of a military or economic crisis that eliminated all other options.
Egypt was trapped in a “trilemma,” or a political version of the “impossible trinity.” The original version of the “impossible trinity” was formulated by Robert Mundell and concerns the pursuit of incompatible economic objectives. Mundell (1963) showed that it was impossible to simultaneously adopt an independent monetary policy, a fixed exchange rate, and free capital movements; policymakers could successfully pursue only two of these aims. The political version would say that Egypt’s policymakers could simultaneously pursue only two of a policy of rapid GDP growth, prioritizing consumption over savings, and an anti-West political stance.
The political-economy strategy had become unsustainable. The continual enlargement of the cake required resources much in excess of what Egyptian regimes were willing to extract internally plus what foreigners were prepared to provide. Economic growth would be unable to meet the demands of the political-economy strategy, and this could jeopardize the survival of the regime. At least one element of the trinity would have to be abandoned.
The anti-West foreign policy was jettisoned in 1974. The financial rewards that the change procured enabled the regime to maintain the economic elements of the former strategy. The surge in the “Big Five” (Suez Canal dues, oil exports, tourism earnings, workers’ remittances, and foreign aid) resulting from the greater political stability in the region, the return to Egypt of oil-producing facilities after the Arab–Israel war of 1973, the reopening of the Suez Canal, and the major inflow of Western economic assistance expanded the economic cake and made it possible to afford the subsidies and other benefits that formed the heart of the political-economy strategy.
But the increasing population and the policy of large-scale subsidization meant that consumption demands kept rising, necessitating more imports and also cutting into the exportable surplus of many commodities, especially oil. Moreover, the “kindness of strangers” has limits, and it was not possible for foreign aid to keep increasing. Indeed, between 1980 and 2015, annual economic assistance from the United States (Egypt’s largest consistent donor) fell from $815 million to $250 million (and to even less in terms of purchasing power). See Sharp (2010).
Egypt had not taken advantage of the good years to adequately step up the investment rate, to strengthen the performance of key institutions, and to improve the productivity with which it used inputs. Policies will have to facilitate the structural transformation of the economy, that is, moving inputs from low-productivity sectors to those of higher productivity. The fifty-year period 1965–2016 saw only a slow transformation of the economy. Thus, for example, the ratio of exports of goods and services to GDP was 17 percent in 1965 and 14 in 2016; that of imports to GDP, 21 and 23 percent; of taxes to GDP, 15 and 16 percent. A study by Galal and el-Megharbel (2008) that looked at two indicators of structural transformation—increases in product variety and total factor productivity—within the key sector of industry for the twenty-year period 1980–99 found that in fact variety decreased, while total factor productivity remained stagnant. They argued that policy during this period did not help new activities; did not make assistance to firms conditional upon specified concrete goals (such as export performance); and did not provide clear indications to firms about when assistance would cease, thereby leaving alive the suggestion that it could continue indefinitely.
Without paying attention to the foregoing matters, it would become progressively more difficult to sustain the economy’s expansion at the required rate, and the implicit compact—economic benefits in exchange for political quiescence—between the rulers and the ruled could unravel. This is not to suggest that purely political issues, such as the public’s desire for democracy and the problem of presidential succession, might not have been important, indeed perhaps even the dominant, factors in the revolution of 2011. The point is that fundamental contradictions in the political-economic strategy were showing up and will have to be addressed by whatever regimes are in power during at least the next twenty or thirty years. To add to the problem, perceptions of inequities in the distribution of incomes were rising, and had been ignored by the authorities. Thus, despite impressive economic growth in 2005–2008, social and economic factors were fermenting a politically menacing brew beneath the surface. The mixture exploded in 2011 in the form of a massive uprising against the rule of President Mubarak.
3. If one had the temerity to try to sum up in a picture and a few numbers the critical reasons for Egypt’s failure to perform to its economic potential over the last fifty years, they could be illustrated by figure 1 and the numbers quoted earlier for the contribution of TFP to Egypt’s GDP growth.
The message is clear. Egypt’s investment rate was insufficient to expand the economy at a rate that would fully employ the labor force; the domestic savings rate fell short of even the inadequate investment rate; and institutional weaknesses inhibited productivity increases from compensating for the investment shortfalls. The persistent gap between investment and domestic savings also measures the extent to which Egypt relied on foreign savings to finance its investment and to cover its balance-of-payments deficits, which explains the continual piling up of external debt and the resulting exposure of the country to external political pressure. Of course, behind the savings–investment performance lie deeper institutional issues, such as matters of governance, the structure of incentives, the working of the bureaucracy and the commercial judicial system, implementation capacity, and the shortcomings of the education and training system.
Figure 1. Investment and domestic savings, 1965–2016 (percent of GDP)
Source: World Bank, World Development Indicators
4. What about future prospects? In view of the growth and age structure of the population and the approximate relationship between employment and GDP growth, Egypt’s economy needs to grow at around 7 percent a year in real terms for at least the next two decades and probably longer in order to absorb the additions to the labor force and to reduce the rate of unemployment and underemployment from the past. This is particularly necessary in order to give the population, and especially the young, the possibility of fulfilling their capabilities and leading lives that they value.
The required GDP growth rate compares with a rate of about 4.7 percent that the country averaged over the fifty-year period between 1965 and 2016. The experience of fast-growing developing countries suggests that a sustained 7 percent growth rate is likely to require an investment rate in excess of 30 percent of GDP (compared with Egypt’s 20 percent average of 1965–2016), and most likely even higher as the economy becomes more complex and has to produce more sophisticated goods and services. Moreover, if Egypt is to reduce its dependence on foreign savings and finance most of the investment from its own resources, the domestic savings rate would have to be of the order of 25–27 percent of GDP (allowing a manageable deficit on the external accounts). Raising the savings rate to this level could pose a stiff challenge, as Egypt’s domestic rate of savings between 1965 and 2016 averaged barely 13.5 percent of GDP.
Seventh, while this might seem paradoxical in view of the shortcomings of past policies and economic performance that are discussed in this book, I would underscore that the most important message from Egypt’s experience of the last fifty years is that one must not underestimate the country’s resilience. Egypt has repeatedly surprised observers and confounded predictions of economic doom. As Hilmi Abdel Rahman, a former minister of planning who played a major role in devising economic strategies for the country, said: “Egypt will frequently not act on policy until the eleventh hour, but it will act. It would not have survived intact for more than five thousand years if it hadn’t done this.”
Consider some reasons for optimism. In 1947 the country had a population of some 19 million inhabitants; in 2016 the population of Greater Cairo alone was about that number. The difference between Egypt’s present (2016) population of some 90 million and that in 1947 is equal to the total present-day population of the United Kingdom or France. These 90 million persons—four and a half times the number in 1947—have, on average, higher real incomes, are better fed, housed, clothed, educated, and connected to the rest of the world, and have longer life expectancies and much greater opportunities to fulfill their capabilities than their counterparts in 1947. Moreover, these improvements have taken place despite Egypt’s being engaged in hostilities with Israel on a number of occasions and suffering an invasion by the United Kingdom and France. These facts attest to the strength of the Egyptian people and the resilience of the economy, and bear witness to the distance it has traversed and the obstacles it has overcome during the last seventy years.
If one has misgivings about Egypt’s economic performance, the regret is for the country not performing to its potential. The reproach is that Egypt could have done better. If, say, South Korea and Taiwan, perched on the edge of Asia, destitute of natural resources, and rent for long periods by war (and in the case of South Korea, with its capital city occupied twice by enemy forces), could achieve so much so quickly, then it should not be impossible for Egypt, with its abundance of resources—to name but its strategic location, oil and gas deposits, fertile agriculture, myriads of tourist attractions, intellectual abilities and long tradition of learning, and large labor force—to achieve something comparable.8
In managing the future, policymakers cannot ignore the role and the weight of the past. Elements of continuity from earlier periods are pervasive. The Egyptian economy of today is in many respects the product of past molds. The capital stock of today in the productive sectors and the infrastructure are the result of past investments (in both good and bad projects); more importantly, the institutions, the administrative structure, the policy framework, the modes of production and organization, the vested interests, and the habits of thought and work are collectively an inheritance that defines many of the features of the economy today and colors much of its prospects. In shaping the future, policymakers will have to manage this legacy from the past.
The change in Egypt’s economic future will not happen by itself. It will require conscious changes in many areas, but most importantly in people’s attitudes and ways of thinking. The Holy Qur’an stresses this message: it says (8:53): “God never changes the favor He has bestowed on any people until they first change what is in themselves.” This is reiterated (13:11): “God changes not the condition of a people until they (first) change what is in themselves.” It is in the spirit of this injunction that this book seeks to identify some crucial economic challenges that confronted Egypt and discusses how politics and economics interacted to address them. Such a discussion might contribute to clarifying the course toward which changes in policymakers’ attitudes and thinking might usefully be directed in the future.
