assassination of Anwar Sadat on a calm afternoon in October 1981. Wisner arrived a

assassination of Anwar Sadat on a calm afternoon in October 1981. Wisner arrived a few years later. Though not quite a friend, Wisner had cultivated a directness at least, with Mubarak. He’d become a mirror in which the Egyptian president might see how different stances towards America or Israel would appear to the rest of the world. So when, in the winter of 2011, the White House saw Mubarak facing waves of unimagined protest, ata moment when it looked like the Egyptian president would become the latest head of state to topple amidst the accelerating discontent that would be known as the Arab Spring, they sent Wisner with a message for Mubarak: No killing - and it is time for you to retire. Wisner later recalled the tension of Cairo when he arrived. The city felt nervous ina way he’d not seen before. He landed in the early morning and went almost immediately to see the President. The situation would be brought back to normal, Mubarak assured Wisner. Soon. He’d fired most of his cabinet a few days earlier. He had promised reform, and had begun studying what might be done first, and how soon it might be carefully attempted. He hinted to Wisner that the rumored transition of power to his son Gamal was not, after all, inevitable. But, Mubarak said, he wasn’t going anywhere just now. Wisner tried another tack: He asked if the President would like to leave the country. Maybe a trip for medical treatment? Mubarak dismissed the idea. He’d seen worse, he reminded Wisner. Mubarak had been sitting inches away from Sadat on that fateful October day in 1981. He himself had survived six assassination attempts. In fact, he said he intended to go on television again that very evening. He would speak directly to the protestors. He would tell them and the Egyptian people of his plans for reform and for a gradual transition of power. He would remind them of the greatness of their national spirit. He would evoke the immensity of their ancient history. And he would be sure they understood that he would stay, he would die on Egyptian soil. You can tell that to the White House too, Mubarak told Wisner. He vouchsafed, at the end of their talk, at least some of the assurances the envoy had come to collect: No violence. A graceful departure at some point. Elections, even. But all on his timetable. Around Mubarak in those days, Wisner recalled, he saw bafflement. Resolution admixed with surprise. These men in that Egyptian power structure, all wealthy and comfortable and perfectly secure, had thought their places impregnable. They were, after all, the thin human line between the modern world and the boiling mad Islamic fundamentalists who hungered to rule the country. They'd arrested the usual dissidents, closed down the normal channels, checked with their informants. Nothing. The old, reliable vents for unrest hadn’t worked. The pressures grew. It was perhaps easy to understand why they thought they’d survive. They'd never failed. Mubarak had been president for 30 years. For now, at least, the syllogistic logic fluttering through the President’s own arguments reassured them: Egypt wants stability. Only I can deliver stability. Therefore, Egypt wants me. Wisner left the Presidential Palace. He reported what he’d learned back to Washington and, work done, headed to the airport. That evening he found himself 60 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018292