Ferries and boats connecting Warraq Island to the mainland. Photo by Zeinab Mohamed. Source: Flickr (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

On Egypt’s Warraq Island, residents are pushing back against government pressure to vacate their homes, as the state moves forward with plans to convert the Nile island into an upscale urban development. Clashes in September 2024 reflect a years-long struggle between working-class residents and state authorities, where promises of compensation and redevelopment are seen as veils for capitalist-driven displacement.

Warraq Island's conflict serves as a microcosm of broader tensions in Egypt, where rapid urban development often comes at the expense of working-class communities. The government’s push to transform the island into “Horus City,” a luxury commercial hub, reflects the growing influence of capitalist interests in urban planning. Residents argue that compensation offers are insufficient, with many fearing displacement will destroy their livelihoods and community bonds. This struggle reveals a critical question: Who benefits from “modernization,” and at what or whose cost?

A history of the conflict

Warraq Island, located in the heart of the Nile River, is home to a close-knit community of approximately 120,000 residents. The island has historically served as an agricultural hub, with residents relying on farming and informal markets. Despite lacking formal infrastructure, the community managed services independently for decades until the Egyptian state began offering some public services.

Warraq Island seen from Giza in July 2017. Photo by Zeinab Mohamed. Source: Flickr (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

In 2017, the government unveiled plans to transform the island into “Horus City,” part of a broader agenda to redevelop Nile islands. Warraq’s location near Cairo attracted both state and foreign investors, including developers from the UAE, with plans for luxury towers, marinas, and business centers. While authorities promote the project as progress, residents see it as an attempt to erase their community in favor of elite interests.

Many residents of Warraq Island have been vocal about their opposition to forced displacement, highlighting the deep connection between their lives and the land.

Sabri Al-Qot, a local plumber, articulated the emotional stakes involved:
“Our properties are not just bricks and mortar; they are our lives, our memories, and those of our ancestors. No amount of money will make us leave.”

The government argues that these developments will eliminate slums and improve infrastructure, but residents say the compensation offered falls far below market value, creating fears of forced displacement. Promises to integrate the community or offer alternative housing have been delayed or unmet, leaving residents skeptical. Meanwhile, legal battles over ownership continue, with the government using decades old decrees to classify the land as public utility space or natural protectorate.

In 2017, clashes between residents and police during demolition operations resulted in one death and numerous injuries. The government framed its actions as part of President Abdel Fattah Al Sisi’s campaign to reclaim state land, though residents claim to have lived there legally for decades, with ownership documents.

Elderly resident showing legal ownership documents of the land and the house the government demolished in 2017. Photo by Zeinab Mohamed. Source: Flickr (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0).

Residents allege that coercive tactics — including shutting down public services and harassing those who refused to sell their homes — began shortly after the island was reclassified as an investment zone. Although the state promised to offer alternative housing or allow residents to return after development, skepticism grew as police raids and violent crackdowns increased.

In 2018, former prime minister Sherif Ismail announced the establishment of a new urban community on Warraq Island, further fueling tensions. Residents protested, demanding the government fulfill its promise to allocate 300 acres for community housing. These requests have either been ignored or pacified with officials claiming to agree to these demands without taking any action to fulfill them, all the while moving forward with their attempts to evacuate land and displace residents.

Between 2019 and 2022, the government increased violent efforts to evacuate the island. By mid-2022, 71 percent of the land had reportedly been acquired, but the remaining residents refused to leave, fearing displacement would push them into informal settlements. During another wave of forced “land reclamation” in 2022, several residents were arrested and 35 of these residents were sentenced to prison for up to 25 years for merely resisting evictions.

In 2024, development gained momentum, the former minister of housing claimed that the construction of 50 luxury towers were already taking place, out of a targeted 94, prompting even more police repression at the time. With the tension further brewing, physical altercations between residents and police authorities have almost become the norm. The closure of the public healthcare unit in 2021 further weakened the community’s resistance. The authorities have previously used repressive and coercive methods. Residents injured as a result of police violence often avoid getting treated in hospitals outside the island out of fear of getting arrested or not being allowed back to the island.

Two boys standing in front of one of the buildings demolished in 2017. Photo by Zeinab Mohamed. Source: Flickr (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0).

By July 2024, Prime Minister Mostafa Madbouly ordered accelerated evacuations and land transfers to the New Warraq Development Authority. Despite this, two-thirds of the residents remained, continuing to demand fair compensation and inclusion in development plans.

Unmet promises, protests and repression

The conflict reached a boiling point in September 2024, when violent clashes erupted after a police officer slapped a local resident collecting scrap near the New Warraq Development Agency. Hundreds of residents retaliated by blocking police vehicles and throwing rocks, while security forces used cold weapons, tear gas and rubber bullets, injuring at least 17 civilians. These protests reflect years of unmet promises of compensation and relocation.

A ferry transporting people from Giza to Warraq Island in 2017. Photo by Zeinab Mohamed. Source: Flickr (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Despite claims from authorities that residents were told they could sell their homes voluntarily, they continued to face police harassment, including frequent home visits. In July, Prime Minister Madbouly enforced strict evacuation timelines, putting more pressure on the community. The former minister of housing responded with a report on the amount of land the government has seized so far and the remaining number of homes and area of land they plan to seize.

Residents report ongoing government efforts to pressure them into selling their property. In July 2024, the state offered higher compensation — up to EGP 7,000 (USD 145) per square meter — but residents rejected it. They reiterated that the compensation was still unfair, noting that the government will sell future properties in their development plans for more than four times the price. They repeated their demands, emphasizing that they are not seeking financial compensation. Their conditions remain simple to fulfill; for every apartment seized, they expect to be allocated an apartment in the new constructions on the island.

The state also circulated fake “sale intention forms,” paying non-landowners to falsely declare their willingness to sell, creating a false narrative that resistance was minimal.

“Police officers came like sales reps, trying to convince us to fill forms saying we’d sell. But no one trusts them — why would we? They treat us like we don’t belong,”  an anonymous resident recounts.

Despite official assurances to halt coercion, police harassment and restrictions on construction materials persisted. With infrastructure deteriorating and access to healthcare limited, many residents fear they will be forced to leave through attrition.

“The government says it’s voluntary, but when they show up every day and make life impossible, is that really a choice?” says Ahmed, another resident.

Central to the resistance is their demand for 300 acres, a promise made in 2020 but never fulfilled. Some residents expressed willingness to integrate into the new urban plan, but officials remained focused on clearing the land.

“Take 1,500 acres, but give us 300. Develop the land, but let us stay. This is our home,” said Saad, a long-time resident

While residents insist that “development without displacement” is possible, officials remain focused on clearing the land and moving residents to New October 6 City and Imbaba, further straining trust between the two sides.

For Abdallah, hotels for investors are being prioritized over improving the infrastructure for locals: “When they build their hotels, won’t they introduce sewage systems? Why not do the same for us?”

A class struggle under neoliberal development

Warraq Island’s situation exemplifies the neoliberal logic driving Egypt’s urban redevelopment. The government frames its actions as “modernization,” but the real beneficiaries are wealthy investors and foreign partners, like Emirati developers. This commodification of land and displacement of working-class communities follows a pattern of gentrification masked by nationalist rhetoric evident in renaming the area “Horus City.”

At its core, this is a class struggle. Residents, labeled as squatters, are criminalized and displaced to make way for high-end real estate. Their demands for just 300 acres are modest, yet unmet. Police violence and the closure of public services reflect the coercive tactics aimed at weakening community resistance.

A local resident sitting in front of her demolished home in 2017. Photo by Zeinab Mohamed. Source: Flickr (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0).

The role of foreign investors, particularly from the UAE, underscores how foreign capital shapes domestic policy, exacerbating inequalities.

The Warraq Island conflict embodies global patterns of urban redevelopment prioritizing profit over people. Egypt’s Horus City plan faces fierce resistance from residents who refuse to be collateral damage in capitalist expansion.

Warraq residents’ fight is about more than land — it’s about preserving a way of life, community, and history. Their resistance compels us to ask: Who benefits from development? At what cost? And can progress occur without justice?

Warraq is one of many examples of how capitalism, authoritarianism, and neo-colonialism intersect to shape lives. The outcome of this struggle will signal whether working-class communities have a future or will be pushed aside for the powerful.