It's time to free the judiciary from the shackles of election supervision

They misled you when they claimed there was no judicial supervision over the current House of Representatives elections. The contradictory statements issued by the clubs of judicial authorities, together with the National Elections Authority/NEA’s decision to void voting and counting in 19 districts, may have punctured the sanctity some seek to project.

But judicial supervision remains “fully in place”, albeit at varying levels, through members of the State Lawsuits Authority and the Administrative Prosecution Authority, both constitutionally recognized judicial bodies, who manage all subcommittees and general committees across the country.

They misled you again when they insisted judicial supervision ended in 2024 under the Constitution. In truth, the Constitution places the NEA at the center of administering the entire electoral process, with judges directing it in their judicial capacity, from its board to its executive management.

The Constitution explicitly allows the Election Authority to enlist members of judicial bodies for all elections and referendums beyond 2024. The Authority’s statute also empowers it to deploy judges from the ordinary courts and the State Council to provincial oversight committees.

Indeed, in March 2023, the President directed that the “National Dialogue” recommendation be examined—specifically, an amendment to the Elections Authority law reinforcing full judicial supervision of polling and counting through a “judge for every ballot box” system. This instruction underscored the state’s inclination towards making judicial oversight permanent and exclusive.

The average citizen does not necessarily know, nor should be expected to know, the technical distinctions among judicial authorities or their jurisdictions, or the difference between bench judges in the ordinary courts and those of the State Council, or between the Administrative Prosecution Authority and the State Lawsuits Authority. The Constitution has already settled this matter by conferring full judicial status on the latter two, rendering any earlier classification debates moot.

Yet they misled us once more when they claimed that judicial supervision is the only, or even the principal, guarantee of electoral integrity. History proves the opposite. Judicial oversight has never shielded presidential, parliamentary, or even constitutional referendums from allegations of fraud, manipulation, undue influence, political money, or pre-engineered electoral outcomes.

From guarantee to “scapegoat”

The public’s willingness to circulate videos of violations during the first phase of voting—on Reels and TikTok—coupled with the widespread confusion following the President’s sharply worded political statement, has tarnished the image of judicial supervision and injured the judiciary’s standing. Accusations are now spoken aloud—accusations that once remained whispered, confined to narrow circles.

First came the video of a judicial official opening ballot boxes before the close of voting hours, leading to its dismissal from vote count. Then, general committee results were announced in most districts without media presence. Soon afterward came the barrage of conflicting statements and finger-pointing across traditional media and social platforms, along with false claims about the nature of judicial oversight. Audio clips circulated of judicial members blaming the NEA for instructions that triggered widespread controversy—particularly concerning candidate representatives’ access to the tallies.

Following the President’s statement and the voiding of 19 districts, judicial supervision—long marketed as the ultimate safeguard—was abruptly recast as a convenient scapegoat, carrying the burden of a bleak electoral scene. A political stain now clings to the coming Parliament, no matter how transparent the second phase may be. The Elections Authority had, at one point, the extraordinary option of annulling the entire process.

Everyone seems to have forgotten that electoral supervision—whether exercised by a judge, a government employee, or an ordinary citizen—is merely one component of a far larger machine. What occurs outside the subcommittee, before voting, and after it, matters far more. Supervision is but a single cog in a vast mechanism called “political will.”

The legislative engineering of politics

The problems exposed by the recent upheaval stem not from the quality of supervision, but from the Political Rights Law (No. 45 of 2014) and the National Elections Authority Law (No. 198 of 2017). Together, they form a structure of legislative engineering no less consequential than the political engineering of parliamentary seats among pro-government parties—with apologies to engineers, whose discipline presumes precision.

Consider the issue of candidate representatives. The current Political Rights Law, issued by interim president Adly Mansour before parliamentary elections, creates a sharp distinction between an individual’s “delegate” and “proxy.” A delegate may attend the opening, closing, and voting procedures at a subcommittee. But witnessing the count, receiving the tallies, submitting objections, and following procedures at the general committees—these rights are reserved to the candidate personally, or to those holding a notarized power of attorney.

Given low legal literacy and the difficulty of issuing notarized authorizations compared to appointing delegates, this arbitrary legal distinction ensures that most candidates lack authorized proxies/representatives in the overwhelming majority of subcommittees.

The issue here lies not in practice, but in design; a deliberate narrowing of those present during the count and those who receive the tallies, in clear violation of basic transparency.

Another example: the grievance and appeals process is tightly constrained—compressed timelines, restrictive standing requirements, and rules preventing ordinary voters from filing challenges.

A third: electoral crimes such as vote-buying, coercion, and intimidation carry a minimum one-year prison sentence on paper, yet the law offers no effective mechanism for initiating prosecution. It merely grants investigative authority to committee heads and Elections Authority officials—without imposing any electoral consequences, such as candidate disqualification, when such crimes occur.

The rule of law pays the price

Matters grew even murkier when the Elections Authority failed to publish the substantive reasons for voiding specific districts, though its law allows it, and allows publication in the Official Gazette. This is especially troubling because the Authority said the voiding was due not only to appeals but to discrepancies between subcommittee and general committee tallies.

Judicial supervision alone has paid the price for this opacity. Two scenarios now present themselves:

First, there were serious violations committed by judicial officials serving as heads of general or subcommittees. In that case, it is essential to disclose them, along with the measures taken, to assure the public that the judiciary is capable of self-correction.

Second, the violations originated outside the authority of judicial officers, stemming from candidates, campaign actors, or other entities operating beyond committee walls. In that case, disclosure is equally essential so that the judiciary is not burdened with the sins of others.

The cumulative effect has eroded public confidence in fairness and integrity, causing damage that requires immediate remedy—including calls to end the era of judicial supervision altogether.

The purpose of independence

The issue before us is the preservation of justice and the construction of a state governed by law, not the “prestige” of judicial authorities or the privileges of their members. Those entrusted with upholding justice should be the first to call for disengaging from a deeply politicized and structurally flawed electoral process, reclaiming instead their core judicial mission: adjudication, oversight, and investigation, for the benefit of the nation and citizens

Some claim judicial supervision is the only option, unmatched and irreplaceable. Yet a simple glance at recent history shows that this form of oversight is, in the words of the late Justice Hatem Bagato, one of the most prominent judges to administer elections, “a unique Egyptian invention.” Bagato supported maintaining judicial supervision in the short term, but acknowledged that the time would come to depart from it.

A close reading of Articles 208, 209, and 210 of the Constitution and the discussions behind them makes clear the true purpose of establishing an independent Elections Authority: to create a sustainable institution capable of administering elections efficiently over many years, through specialized training and accumulated expertise, reducing long-term costs, and gradually lessening reliance on judicial bodies after a ten-year transition.

The logic of that transition was to allow time to build an independent, durable institution. But this never happened. Government and Parliament chose the familiar shortcut: seconding judicial members to fill the Authority’s executive structure—its backbone—and then placing them at the helm of supervision.

Available alternatives await a political decision

The present moment requires reconsideration of all of this, beginning with preparing permanent or temporary cadres within the NEA, drawn from high-achieving young law graduates and others, then gradually deploying them in administrative and research roles, before taking on oversight and quasi-judicial roles for electoral violations.

Legislative and regulatory amendments would be needed to guarantee their independence, protect them, and govern their working relationships with supporting government and security bodies. Civil society representatives, public employees, and even university students could be enlisted under specific safeguards to fill any gaps.

If there is truly a will for integrity, we will, over time, see the benefits: shorter voting phases (once prolonged purely to accommodate the limited number of judges); reduced costs by ending exceptional supervisory allowances and accommodation expenses; and a judiciary finally free to fulfill its constitutional mandate without being dragged into political crossfire.

The current elections have reminded us of the dangers of entangling the judiciary and politics—especially after the system for appointing judicial heads was amended to give that power to the President, and especially after accusations, explicit and implicit, grew broad enough to provoke institutional outrage.

Today, two paths lie before us, and there is no third: a political decision in favor of absolute integrity—one that overturns all the premises that led to this moment of confusion—or the familiar bet on time, silence, and public forgetfulness. The latter will not suffice.