In the end, a revolution cannot be Tweeted. Whatever their defects, the unlovely forces running the new Egypt understand the difference between actually mutilating a young girl’s genitals to deny her the possibility of sexual pleasure, and merely “following” your local clitoridectomist on his Twitter feed.
A century ago, the west exported its values. So, in Farouk’s Egypt, at the start of a new legislative session, the king was driven to his toy town parliament to deliver the speech from the throne in an explicit if ramshackle simulacrum of Westminster’s rituals of constitutional monarchy.