Electric Mountains: Climate, Power, and Justice in an Energy Transition

Abstract

itself in several important ways; I’ll mention two. First, while interviews and observations have become staple methods within the qualitative sociology and political science of the Middle East, Bread and Freedom chooses to solely rely on the ‘‘torrent of documents’’ (for a list, see p. 44) produced by the revolution. Here, classicism is a virtue: the breadth of the documentation sheds light on episodes that have been absent from accounts of the revolution. However, the author’s justification for this choice is debatable. El-Ghobashy opposes a ‘‘hermeneutic study that recovers and represent subjects’ inner states (emotions and dispositions)’’ (p. 42)—that is, subjects’ selfunderstandings and her own ‘‘analytical narrative of events’’ (ibid). This dualism, almost reproducing classical (again) distinctions between objective and subjective, structure and action, seems to be more of an obstacle to research on revolutions than anything. Indeed, following authors like Ivan Ermakoff, whom El-Ghobashy cites in her theoretical conclusion, we can argue that subjects’ self-understandings are both an invaluable indicator and a crucial mechanism of the indeterminacy, volatility, and uncertainty she so aptly describes. Second, El-Ghobashy’s main theoretical interlocutors are, beyond Tilly of course, classical authors of the transitology era. The younger generation of scholars of the Egyptian revolution remain largely absent from the theoretical discussions. The book tends to oscillate between, on the one hand, being a book of political history, documenting and organizing a series of events, and providing a renewed—and highly convincing—narrative of what went on in that period. And on the other hand, an analytic intervention, and a tentative explanation of revolutionary mechanisms, without necessarily engaging with the literature. The methodological choices, the data, and the theoretical interlocutors all tend to produce a general trend: despite the vivid vignettes of popular politics, the narrative remains one of high politics. This is not a critique, per se, as El-Ghobashy acknowledges that, in her perspective, ‘‘[b]y definition, revolutions are about control over states,’’ making most of the narrative a nuanced and compelling (hi)story of how a variety of actors engaged to redefine how Egypt would be ruled. But it doesn’t exhaust other possible discussions of what revolutions are (also) about. In any case, Bread and Freedom’s classicism reminds us how classical tools and insights can produce novel arguments about the Egyptian Revolution, and that this classicism shouldn’t be an obstacle to Bread and Freedom becoming a classic.