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Egypt

Understanding Egypt’s revolution

The chair of the committee tasked with rewriting the Egyptian constitution reflects on the birth of a new regime.

Tariq al-Bishri Last Modified: 18 Mar 2011 19:02
The popular movement that toppled Hosni Mubarak lacked an organisational leadership [REUTERS]

This is the fifth revolution in the history of modern Egypt since the 19th century.

The first revolution was the one that toppled Mohammed Ali. The second is of Ourabi in 1880. The third was in 1919. The fourth was in 1950. The fifth revolution is the present one of January 2011.

Of all the revolutions, four of them were a partnership between the people and the military.

All the people of Egypt agreed that these revolutions were effective, in the sense that they were rejecting a regime that governed them and were looking forward to adjusting the system.

We notice that the only revolution in which the army was not involved was the 1919 revolution. This is attributed to the fact that the army was absent; it was in Sudan, away from the political events in Egypt.

So in other words, the only successful Egyptian revolution is where there was no effect or influence of the army in participating in or protecting it – where the Egyptian army was away from the events in Egypt in Sudan. That is the 1919 revolution.

What we notice when we read the history of Egypt is the army was actually going along with the revolution in Egypt – and in this fifth revolution, which we are witnessing now, it came out to the streets after the withdrawal of the police on January 28.

The Egyptian army was actually supporting this movement and protecting public installations and buildings and protecting the movement of the people instead of resisting or oppressing it. And the army that came onto the streets was actually supporting the movement and no single bullet was shot at the time.

But there was a major and clear difference between the events of the July 23, 1952 revolution and the events of 2011. In the 1952 revolution, there was actually a coherency to the peoples’ movement. There, people shared a unified demand for the withdrawal of British forces from Egypt. At the time, the revolutionary force came from the army, and that decided the political battle against the regime of the time.

If we look at the events of the period between 1951 and 1952, we find that the popular movement – partisan and non-partisan – had an important force against the king and royal system. The momentum increased, but the popular movement to remove the royal system and there was the fire in Cairo at the time. The army came on July 23 to carry out this revolutionary act believing in its values and was supported by the people. So the main act supported by the people was carried out by the army in 1952, whilst the partner was the people in supporting that main action of the revolution.

On January 25, there was a major difference. The revolutionary action was by the popular youth movement, which suffered 150 deaths and more than 5,000 injured.

In the first three days of the revolution, before the police disappeared from the streets leaving a state of insecurity, and before the army took over the task of security, the army actually protected government buildings and responded to the movement with a great deal of understanding and coherence.

It would seem from this revolution that the main action was not by the army but the people. The great momentum they generated was surprising, along with the determination and resolve of the people, as well as the cumulative effect of toppling the regime.

The army was merely supporting; but the main actor was the people, and the army was the partner, facilitator and supporter of the people. It would seem from this that the popular movement had the precedence in toppling the regime of Hosni Mubarak, but did not have the leadership.

The absence of organisation

Although the popular movement was the one that toppled the leadership of Hosni Mubarak, it did not have the organisational, institutional leaderships to take over power and replace the deposed president.

There were official parties that were recognised by the regime, but they were very weak and could not formulate a main part in stirring the revolution or leading the revolutionaries or organising them. There were some intellectual leaders who were known for their patriotism, especially in the last seven years of Mubarak’s regime, and made good contributions in the revolution that we witnessed on the streets.

But all those leaders did not have any organisational links with the popular movement itself and would have no role in organising it.

There were some protests and popular movements organised by factory workers, civil servants and other groups over the past seven years, but numbered only in the hundreds during their protests and sit-ins. They had various demands, from economic grievances – wages and employment – to political ones related to freedom and the release of detainees.

That related to the idea of coming out – of demonstrating, the culture of demonstrations, and the culture of protesting. And this was on-going in Egypt before January 25. But the main event was on January 25. All those movements were scattered and separated, they were sporadic – that was the situation before the revolution

I saw something very important here. The revolution, with its masses, increasing numbers, defiance of the will of Hosni Mubarak, the awareness of the objectives and demands of the Egyptian people, its collective intelligence, its ability to escalate the political situation and its adherence to its objectives and peaceful nature, defied the authority that practiced oppression and killing. It distinguished between friend and foe, and we witnessed it ourselves with our own eyes.

But it had no single organisational leadership that was expressing its will, that was speaking on its behalf. The revolutionary sense was the dominant one and led to a spontaneous response from the masses without any organisational leadership. The lack of leaders organising the masses also had a positive effect – it analysed the ability of Mubarak, of the regime and its ability to use oppression against people.

What contributed to the success of the revolution is the great ability of the Egyptian people in one revolutionary state, to have a common sense of revolution. That sense, the Egyptian sense of responding to the revolution, is very useful, and replaced the organisational links in steering the people.

But all of this was one thing, and another thing that is important for a political authority to be toppled and be replaced by another, this deep sense of coherence and common cause had its effect in steering people and moving them. Now we are talking about the condition of a state that needs to be toppled. This is where it is easy because the sentiment of civil riot, which was widespread, made it possible to paralyse the government completely, and if this takes place the regime would fall. This is impossible, to take the reins of power when you have no strong organisation.

The revolution has an eventual aim, which is to seize the reins of power. It is impossible to have an institutional vacuum, because the authority is, at the end of the day, an institution, and there needs to be an organisational entity. This is why the official parties were not capable because they were not holding the reins of the revolution and the evolving organisational institutions will not be able to do that.

There was eager anticipation for the organisational action of a powerful institution in the few days preceding Mubarak’s departure from power. The Egyptian army tried to fill the vacuum on February 10, 2011. The 10th of February – not the 11th of February. The supreme council of the armed forces without the chairmanship of Hosni Mubarak – and Hosni Mubarak was the supreme leader of the armed forces. To protect the gains of the army, the ambitions of this revolutionary objective related to toppling the regime. That took place on February 10, 2011 and shows that the state was practicing authority outside the institutions of the constitution of 1971, because the supreme council was not of those institutions stated in the constitution that issues political decisions or takes political action.

The political authority was transferred by means of the revolution, and the supreme council convened without the leader, issuing the first political communiqué, announced to the people on the evening of February 10, 2011. When that communiqué came out, people were congratulating each other because it was a transfer of power – temporarily, but this is a different matter, but the state actually dispensed with the president.

The authority was transferred to the supreme council, the armed forces. The political authority was transferred by the legitimacy of the revolution and the army proved that it was holding the reins of power and was the legitimate ruler when Hosni Mubarak gave power to the army.

A communiqué was issued at the time to determine the nature of the authority; the nature of the body that has helped the reins of power; and its constitutional position. There was a communiqué stating that the supreme council of armed forces will hold power for six months and suspend the constitution. That communiqué meant that the supreme council will be in place of the president for six months, and the constitution is not abolished but suspended. There was going to be amendments of its articles. Then a communiqué was issued dissolving the parliament, the people’s assembly and the council to the legislative authority of Egypt. There were actually serious accusations of rigging before that.

This means that the supreme council would actually overtake the authority of those two councils and chambers as well as of parliament during this transitional period, which is estimated to be six months.

As we know, any constitution has general provisions about the rights of its citizens and freedoms, and then there are some provisions about the local governments – the two institutions of the executive and the legislative authorities.

So the supreme council was actually undertaking that role and announced elections in a more democratic fashion within the allocated six months. We know that the two institutions which were practicing the political action and making decisions were the presidency and the council of the general assembly. The first was toppled and the other two chambers were dissolved, so the supreme council was undertaking all the authority during the transitional period for those two institutions to be re-established in a democratic fashion in order to resume authority.

Thus, elections would take place for those institutions to be re-established, and then the people would take part in a referendum about the amended constitution in order to have a new constitution which reflects the political situation in Egypt after the revolution.

What has the revolution achieved?

The other point that I wanted to talk about is what happened? Everything I mentioned about the revolution’s transfer of authority has another question about what it has achieved and what it is expecting to achieve.

We could say that what emanated from the revolution was a number of political results which I think have become very clear and have been achieved in the main. The first is that these results, which involved toppling Hosni Mubarak and his family, ended any possibility of transfer of power to his son. And with the organisational and political aspect left the question now to talk about the authority of the state and the fall of the president himself meant that the state has changed, or that it was seriously going to change.

Also many of the figures of the regime have been removed and also the supporters of Gamal Mubarak, Mubarak’s son. This category of people were actually controlling the state for the past years with the support, blessing and protection of the president himself. Their influence was increasing gradually and they actually controlled the political system during those years. There was a vacuum for them and they managed to control and hold all the reins of power during those years before the revolution. That was the first example of those exercising power and the supporters of the president. This was the main result.

The second result was the political activism which managed to remove the political power of the police and removed the police, not in terms of its function of protecting but of its function of using its role which had increased over the past 20 years or so over the rule of Hosni Mubarak and the Egyptians know that several institutions of the state was still subjected to the authority of the police. The influence of the police permeated all of the institutions. This activism brought back the armed forces to the right position.

The third result, had this revolutionary act which brought forth a new generation of young people and put that generation, the top of the life in Egypt’s political scene and that generation will have an impact on the few in the next months and years.

Why do youth movements emerge?

I have tried in previous studies to monitor the movements of young people since the beginning of the 20th century. It seemed to me in this study about youth movements in the 20th century that the emergence of parties is obvious because it represents manifestoes and programmes, or economic concerns. It is known how parties emerge, and particular tribal affiliations. These affiliations actually lead to the emergence of parties expressing the interests of certain groups.

But when the youth movement emerges, and for its emergence to increase in Egypt over 20 years, then that poses a question – why do they emerge?

The emergence of youth movements happens when new objectives appear in society, new physical and social objectives that never emerged before. New challenges in society, that would require responses that never existed before and these objectives were unprecedented. That would lead to the emergence of youth movements expressing that political or social element that never existed before, that was new to the institutions of the state.

Youth movements emerge if the institutional groupings are able to express new emerging needs, or urgent demands. And this inability to be attributed to oppression of a previous historical period, in these circumstances, a youth movement emerges outside the frameworks of the present institutions and draws attention to the large numbers and their ability and activism. And through their existence, it actually marks the emergence of new institutions that will have impact over the future years.

Some of these youth movements were characteristic and appeared at a time when there were no revolutions. We witnessed the youth movements in 1906, and the National Party, Mustafa Kamal’s party, emerged at the time. In 1935 there was a youth movement as well, a new youth movement that appeared on the political scene in Egypt, and that is the 1919 revolution that did not bear any fruits and there was a need to prepare for other objectives that were not fulfilled by the 1919 [revolution].

So the youth movement appeared, the Muslim Brotherhood, and other movements as well. In 1946, there was another youth movement that emerged in Egypt, and the social objective was started by the leftist activists and included the concepts of social justice. And the left wing movements also appeared afterwards.

So the youth movements would also appear to give forth to new currents and organisations that never existed before. The 2011 movement is a youth movement and it spread and it was not only for youth, and was similar to other revolutions because it toppled a political system as a result of its revolution.

We had new movements in society whose impact would be seen in the future, but the revolution of 2011 was similar to the 1911 revolution and 1952 revolution. It started to change the authority and the political system, and it was able to change the system, or at least started to do so. So this movement was successful in changing the regime, or starting to change the regime.

These youth revolutions in its historical context changes within its historical context and reveals that things happen and change despite the impediments and despite the oppression by the political systems and oppression by the regime, because all these ways of oppression cannot eradicate one whole generation. When a new generation appears, it appears far from the oversights made by society.

I would like to clarify one point. All the political parties that were available at the time, the government how did it know about these political parties? They know the people behind such political parties, and they know all the things that are happening in those political parties, and they know how to lure those members and how to divide such people.

The other movements that were available had files on them, and the government would study and expand those files, and only after would realise and find out that there is a new generation that you do not know anything about. New people who have no files whose names are unknown and you do not know their leader, and so on and so forth.

So by the time you make files for those people, you will be toppled. It is too late. The youth movement is a movement that did not have anything written in files. It was unknown to the regime.

Hosni Mubarak’s regime tried to close all the doors that were trying to topple his system, and controlled the trade unions, the political parties, the institutions, the universities – all the political security was controlled by the police. And all the emerging political institutions were considered outside the law.

On the other hand, the protest movements between workers and the different institutions – whether the intellectuals or so on – did not have any organised movement, and did not have a voice that was loud enough to be heard and did not have points of assembly. What happened?

The spark of the revolution was the result of the youth movement that came up with an organisation that tried to lead the Egyptian people. It was successful because it was not a part of the political parties or the revolutionary intellectuals that were known in the country, and it is far from the eyes of the political system and the police – that is why they did not know how to deal with it.

So that reminds us of the saying, that when a crisis gets really bad, it will get solved eventually and will not be as bad as it used to be when it first started.

From this presentation there are two things we can talk about. It is possible for any corrupt political system to be toppled, and popular forces will appear and topple such a regime.

So every regime has its own legitimacy, and there will be ways and systems that would expose it as illegitimate. That is why on February 10, the legitimacy of the regime was toppled by the revolution.

The birth of a new child leads to tearing; that is what happens biologically. But what is important is to limit the tearing as much as possible, and that is what has happened here with the birth of the new regime. And that is why there was an establishment of a new legitimacy based on new political and social systems, and to get rid of the oppressing regime and to pave the way for a new transit period, or interim period, to go into a new era which will be presenting new institutions and new political parties – this is very important, to have new political parties, that will represent the requirements and needs of these generations. This is what I wanted to tell you. Thank you very much.

Tariq al-Bishri is the chair of the committee to revise the Egyptian constitution. The above is an address given to the sixth Al Jazeera Forum.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial policy.

source

“Al Midan” by Abdel Rahman al-Abnoudi

Posted on March 13, 2011 by Jan 25 Translators

Our first assignment was the translation of a selection from “Al Midan”, a poem by Abdel Rahman al-Abnoudi composed in colloquial Egyptian Arabic on the occasion of the January 25th Revolution. Listen to his recitation in Arabic here.

A few of these lines also accompany the brilliant Sout el-Horreya video
(link), and we came across two English translations of these lines.

Version I

Dark Egyptian hands that know how to characterize
Reach out through the roar to destroy the frames
The creative youth came out and turned autumn into spring
They have performed the miracle and raised the murdered from murder
Kill me, killing me will not bring back your country
In my blood I shall write a new life for my home
My blood is it or the spring? Both in green color
Am I smiling because of my happiness or my sorrows?

Version II

Egyptian hands understanding how to differentiate
Breaking the mirrors of deception
The beautiful youth showed up to change it is winter to spring
And made the miracle and awoke the deadened country from its death
Kill me, killing me won’t return your rule again
I’m writing with my blood a new life for my country
This is my blood or is it the spring
Both of them are green
And am I smiling from my happiness or my sadness?

These transliterations are just that: literal, word for word translations, designed to address a perceived immediacy of communicating meaning. They deprive the reader and listener from the full body of the poem: its music, rhythm, image, linguistic register, social and cultural signification and so on.

Our assignment focused on an introductory segment of the poem:

ايادي مصرية سمرا ليها في التمييز

ممددة وسط الزئير بتكسر البراويز

سطوع لصوت الجموع شوف مصر تحت الشمس

آن الآوان ترحلي يا دولة العواجيز

عواجيز شداد مسعورين اكلوا بلدنا اكل

ويشبهوا بعضهم نهم وخسة وشكل

طلع الشباب البديع قلبوا خريفها ربيع

وحققوا المعجزة صحوا القتيل من القتل

اقتلني قتلي ما هيعيد دولتك تاني

بكتب بدمي حياة تانية لأوطاني

دمي دة ولا الربيع الاتنين بلون اخضر

وببتسم من سعادتي ولا احزاني

Our class is divided into three groups that bring together native and non-native speakers of both the Source Language (Arabic) and Target Language (English) in a collective approach to the process of translation, which is fraught with a myriad of challenges. The role of non-Arabic (specifically native English) speakers is particularly important in the production of the translations: they harbor a natural affinity for the use and signification of the various symbols that constitute the language, and always necessarily inform the decision-making process in a variety of ways. Similarly, native Arabic speakers carry the responsibility, as translators, of applying their command of Arabic, as well as a degree of social and cultural insight, to unpacking, deconstructing and rethinking signification: what does a word, sentence, idiom, or even an image, or a particular juxtaposition, actually mean. In all cases, the translators’ awareness of subjectivity, difference and diversity is at the forefront of decision-making, and the interactive process of translation is therefore incomplete without a profound appreciation and navigation of audience: that which prompts the production and dissemination (that is, the life) of a work, and that which attracts and guides the process of translation itself.

What follows is each group’s translation, followed by their comments. It is important to remember that there is no singular, final product, and therefore, we encourage your feedback. Please comment below or e-mail us your thoughts, reflections, and insights, or even alternative translations, at translatingrev@gmail.com

Enjoy!
source

______________________________

Story of a Jan 25 Martyr

We are all Khaled Said
par We are all Khaled Said, samedi 12 mars 2011, 11:42

Writtern by: Marwa Abdelrahman (The martyr’s cousin)

The hardest part of a story to write is always the end. The writer sits and wonders how best to phrase their final words and touch the audience that is to read their story. The hardest ending to a story of all is when you’re talking about the end of someone’s story: their life.  Harder still is to write about the violent end to a life. Words cease to become adequate. These words are about the end of one man’s life. A man who gave the ultimate sacrifice for expressing his desire of change like any human has the right to. This man was Tarek Abdelatif Mohamed AlAktash.

Tarek was 36-years-old. He was happily married with kids and had a wonderful job and a loving family. He lived his life according to his faith and values and always lent a helping hand when needed. He was a man you could lean on in difficult times and a man you could rely on to make you feel better when you were sad. He had no political leanings to the left or right and was not affiliated with any political party, much like countless others living in Egypt prior to the events that began on January 25th 2011. On January 28th, Tarek, along with millions of others in Egypt, took to the streets to express his want of a new governmental system and for change from the 30-year rule of one man and his cronies. Late in the morning he marched towards Tahrir Square to shout out his longing and yearning. He was full of life and vibrantly participating in a revolution, but devastatingly, by eleven p.m. that night, Tarek was dead. Later, it was to be revealed that he was shot in the neck by a 4mm bullet that severed his arteries, killing him instantly. However, Tarek’s story was not over.

By the morning of January 29th, Tarek’s wife had alerted his brothers and family members that Tarek had not come home the night before. Worry hadn’t fully set in for them all yet because during that time, cell phone service had been shut off inside Egypt so it was assumed Tarek had spent the night in Tahrir Square. By the morning of January 30th, with no sign of Tarek and no contact from him, his family and friends began to mount a search for him by looking for him in the local hospitals, expecting that he had been injured. Their search led them to the French Qasr Al-Ainy hospital where they were told that all the injured and deceased they had treated and received had been identified and that Tarek was not one of them. Needless to say, relief was the prevalent emotion, but its close companions were worry and the beginnings of fear. If Tarek wasn’t there, where was he?

The next chapter in the story spans almost a month and a half. From January 28th to March 9th, Tarek became one of the most searched for people in Egypt. His story was on local and international news stations. Prominent journalists in Egypt spoke of him on their TV programs. They even had contacts within the military and state security that they exhausted day and night asking about him and his whereabouts. The answers they were given by these governmental entities were conflicting and vague at best.  Some claimed Tarek was being held as a prisoner and others said they did not where he was. As the days went by, the hopes of finding Tarek dwindled. Tarek’s wife and family left no stone unturned in the search for him. They became frantic, almost obsessive when looking for him. They knew that every day that passed with no Tarek meant that the likelihood of his wellbeing was jeopardized. The trips to the morgues and hospitals became more frequent and the calls to the military slowly ceased.  Tarek’s family could do no more in their search for him.  All they could do was pray and hope for a miracle.

On March 9th, Tarek’s brothers received a phone call from a stranger telling them that they knew of Tarek’s whereabouts. When asked where, the man on the phone told them his body was at a morgue. The jarring news hit hard. No one had fully expected that Tarek had died but rather, that he was being held prisoner in an undisclosed location.  Tarek’s brothers rushed to the morgue and it was there that the ending to his story was written.

On January 28th 2011, at around eleven p.m. at night, Tarek was shot and killed. His body was transported to the Qasr Al-Ainy hospital and was ID’s as “unknown”. On February 26th, his body was moved to the morgue where it was found by the stranger who made the phone call to Tarek’s family. This stranger was there on March 9th to claim Tarek’s body as the body of his missing brother, but was told by the mortician that this was not his family member; it was Tarek Abdelatif Mohamed AlAktash. Why hadn’t he contacted the family, the stranger asked? He was told that Tarek’s family was repeatedly called but no one had answered. This Good Samaritan then took it upon himself to contact the family and within hours, Tarek had been found at last. His journey had ended in a morgue with a bullet wound to the neck; violently and ruthlessly.

Tarek’s family now must wait for a DNA test to undoubtedly prove what they know: that the body they found is indeed Tarek’s. This is typical procedure according to the local law enforcement, when there is more than one family claiming a body as that of their loved one. As far as Tarek’s family is concerned, it was their son.

The events that started on January 25th in Egypt captured not just the hearts and minds of the millions in Egypt, but the hearts and minds of millions around the world. The revolution lasted 18 days and claimed hundreds of lives. Each life a loss and yet each life was a gift to those who would survive after it. Tarek gifted his life to his country. On January 28th, he became the greatest thing a person can become; he became a martyr. His memory will live on in his children and his family and his sacrifice will never be forgotten.  His death will be mourned but it must also be celebrated. Tears of sadness should become tears of happiness and gratitude for a man who cared not for himself, but for the greater good of his fellow brothers and sisters. It was what he would have wanted, and, as he now rests in a much better place, gone and missed but certainly never forgotten; it must become what everyone wants as well.

source : facebook

Dear Free People of Egypt

The Free Republic of Egypt

It’s a lovely day to be talking to you all in a Mubarak and NDP free Egypt. It’s been quite the undertaking, and many people were terrified, injured or killed, but we somehow managed to do it. Congratulations on that to all of us. Pats on the back, everybody!

Naturally, we (the revolutionaries) still don’t think the battle is over. The Mubaraks are still free, so are Fathy Surrour, Zakaria Aazmy and Safwat ElSherief, alongside with all the corrupt NDP officials in all branches of government, not to mention all the state security and police officers who spent the last 3 decades terrorizing, monitoring, torturing & killing those they were supposed to protect. The Political prisoners and detained Jan25 protesters are still unlawfully in prison, the stolen money is still in foreign countries, and the Minimum wage of 200 dollars a month for all Egyptians is still not enforced. There is also the matter of transparency of the government (financially & operationally and having the country run by civilians instead of a military Junta, a new constitution to be drafted instead of one that gives absolute power to the head of state, political freedoms to all Egyptians, enforceable bill of rights to all Egyptians, equal rights to all women, equal political rights to Egyptians living abroad and/ or born or married to a foreigner, freedom of the media, etc..etc.. I don’t want to bore you, but, yep, lots of work is yet to be done, and it’s taking far too long by those in charge to get done, which is making us unhappy. And Unhappy protesters usually protest. It’s just a fact of life.

But we are hearing that some of you are unhappy with all this protesting. We are hearing that you think we are kids with no purpose or jobs, who are currently destroying the country and the economy by all of our protesting and demands. We are hearing that you just want stability & security, and that we are not listening to all of you or your concerns and that we are no different than the dictator we just toppled. Please be assured, this is not the case here, because you are our people, and your concerns are the same as our concerns. We must admit that we are surprised by such accusations, & some of us are not taking it well, while others don’t have time to respond because, let’s face it, trying to find out whether your friends are killed or not, and trying to free them from being court-martialed in the new democratic Egypt, all the while addressing a the new referendum, and the issue of Copts getting murdered, churches being burned and such other sectarian strife issues that plague us, well, it could become a consuming full-time job. Our sin might be that we are so used to fighting those small (in your opinion) battles that we are not focusing enough on explaining our point of view to you and how we are on the same side. For that we apologize and we hope you forgive us. Now, on to your concerns.

You are concerned about the lagging state of the economy and the losses that were caused by the revolution and all of our protests, and you just want everybody back to work, without asking yourself how is it that our economy was so weak that all it took to destroy it was less than two months of protests, while a country like France has nation-wide protests all the time, and their economy isn’t collapsing because of it. You are also forgetting that that the other main causes of the lag in economy is the complete & total corruption in all government institutions (state, municipal & local), the military curfew that’s completely destroying our logistical operations and Tourism, the absence of Security (more on that later), and the total confusion of (the many many many) foreign investors- who want to come to Egypt now and invest- in regards to who they could talk to in order to come here and invest, given that the civilian government has no power and the military council isn’t exactly approachable.

You are concerned about the thugs attacking and robbing you of your property & demanding the return of the police & security, but you are forgetting that the police (who acted no different than the thugs except having a shiny uniform) used to rob you every single day. And about those thugs who are terrorizing you, who let them out of their prisons in the first place and then refused to arrest them? Oh yes, I remember, the Police. Silly us for demanding that they get held accountable for their actions. We should beg them daily- like you- to come back to work unconditionally after they betrayed their oath to protect us & put us all in grave danger. Our bad.

You are concerned about your kids getting killed by thugs (who, again, reminder, are unleashed by the police), but you were not concerned that they were getting killed daily by the polluted water, the poisoned meats & fruits & vegetables, the completely unsafe roads & public transportation options, the complete and utter catastrophe that is health-care and Egyptian public hospitals, where far more people die than get better and where any Egyptian would rather not step a foot inside if they can afford to go to a private Hospital (which isn’t always incredibly better). Lest we forgot, even the grandson of our former President died in one of them. But yes, the thugs are the problem. Our bad.

You are concerned that the Islamists are going to take over the country and turn it into Afghanistan, and yet don’t seem concerned with taking concrete steps to ensure that this won’t happen without impeding their rights. A good way to do so is to demand the overhaul of the Egyptian education system, the end of bigotry & discrimination against minorities in all job positions (private or public), the removal of hate-inciting Imams or Priests from Mosques and Churches, and in case all of the aforementioned are too much for you to handle, you could simply stand for religious freedom and equal rights to all in Egypt, especially Egypt’s Christians, who in case you didn’t hear are getting attacked and their churches are getting burned and you don’t seem to care. We would recommend you take a small visit to the Maspiro protest and talk to “those people” and understand the issues at hand, but we also should understand that this would take some time from your busy schedule of complaining about us ruining everything. Our bad.

We get it. We see how we are irresponsible. How we are ruining the country. How we are not concerned about you. We are evil. A cancer that plagued this fine and healthy nation. 25 Khasayer. You are right not to like us. You are right to hold protests against protesting and only 500 of you would show up on a Friday and then claim you are talking in the name of the silent majority. Those millions of us who went down to support those demands are only from every social class and religious background and from both genders. We are in no way representative, especially that the majority of people in Tahrir right now are now the poorest of all the protesters, who are told to go home & live on 20 dollars a month salary until we figure all of this out in 6 month to a year, and all of your Korba Festival buddies are too busy to go there anymore. You want the ones who are still there to go home and leave u alone. After all the ones in Tahrir now are poor. They smell. Can’t have that! Egyptian people are not smelly or poor, of course. Shame on them for defaming us all.

So, since we are such a public menace and refuse to listen to reason, I have a proposal to all of you that will surely make you happy: How about we take all those people who took part in the revolution and supported it, and give them a piece of land in Egypt to create their own failed state on? Maybe somewhere in Sinai, on the beach, say Sharm el Sheikh for example? Yes, give us Sharm and some backland and leave us there, so you can continue living your lives in Peace and stability. We will give you back the Mubarak Family (we are not big fans) and we recommend you give us all those people you don’t like in return: you know those annoying minorities, like the Copts, the Bahaai’s , the Shia, the jews, the Nubians even. Yes, get rid of the races you dislike as well. We will take them all. We will even divide the people up fair and square and ensure that none of us remain with any of you. Ok? Let’s start right now.

You can have Ahmed Shafiq as your Prime Minister and we will take Essam Sharaf as ours.

You can have the NDP and its officials and we will have all the new political parties that are starting up all over the place.

You can have Aamr Moussa as your ideal Diplomat; we will take Mohamed ElBaradei as ours.

You can have Zaghloul elNaggar as your top Scientist; we will take Ahmed Zuweill.

You can have Alaa Mubarak, Ahmed Ezz, Mohamed Abu Elenein, ElMaghraby as your businessmen, and we will take Naguib Sawiris and the Bisharas and all the other businessmen in Egypt who want to run legitimate businesses without unnecessary bureaucracy and bribing 18 different entities to open and continue to run one.

You can Have Adel Emam, Yosra and Samah Aanwar, we will take Khaled Abulnaga , Basma and Yousra Ellouzy.

You can have Tamer Hosny and Mohamed Fouad, we will take Mohamed Mounir, Mariam Aly and Ramy Essam (and we will make sure no one tortures him while he is in their custody).

You can have Farouk Hosny, and we will take the artists that the revolution brought out.

You can have the Supreme Military Council meet your demands on their schedule and discretion; we will take the Revolution Trustee Council any day of the week.

You can have a country where women suffer from oppression, sexual assaults, genital mutilation and honor killing, we will have a country where women are in all positions of power, sexual harassment and FGM absolutely not tolerated, and where one gender doesn’t see that it has the right- in the name of honor- to oppress , beat and violently murder the other gender. We won’t tolerate that happening to our women; you can do with yours what you please.

You can keep a constitution that got amended so much in the past 7 years and still discriminates against many Egyptians and gives the President absolute Power, and we will have one that ensures the rights and equality of all of our citizens (no matterwhere their parents come from or whom they marry) and where there are checks and balances against executive Power.

You can keep an economy that is plagued with inefficiency, corruption, poverty and Monopoly. We will have one where entrepreneurship is encouraged and supported, our country open to all investments, and our workers are guaranteed a living wage.

You can keep a public school system in shambles and half of the population being illiterate, and be forced to pay for public schools and private tutoring for your children. We will have public schools that are well funded and teachers who are well-trained and well paid.

You can have your healthcare system being a complete and total fiasco where apathy and complete lack of concern for the patients’ well-being is what defines it, while our public Hospitals will be properly funded and staffed and those who due to negligence harm or kill a patient will be held accountable.

You can have a country where people believe that being civilized is to go for one day and clean Tahrir Square up, while we will believe that true civilization is ensuring that our government cleans our street up and as for us, well, we just won’t litter.

You can have Your Internal Security services spying on you, arresting you indefinitely, collaborating with terrorists to attack your churches (if you will continue to have any) torturing and/or kill you, and your Police to bully you and blackmail you. Our internal security service won’t do that to us and our Police will protect us, will uphold the law, and, god forbid, reduce crime and put criminals in jail instead of letting them out.

You can have an Army that dictates orders to you; we will have an army that obeys us.

As you can see, what we are asking for is totally unrealistic and we are completely dedicated to destroying ourselves. If we are truly such a problem, we urge you to help us make that happen, so we can get out of your hair as soon as possible.

But if you are insane and unreasonable like the rest of us, please join us and help us. We don’t want our own state, we want to do this here. We want our Country, Egypt, to be the best country it can be. One where we all can live and co-exist; one where the state is healthy and functions and all are represented and have rights. That’s what we always wanted and called for, and we don’t know when that message stopped being clear to you.

We are not saints. We make mistakes and we are not above criticism of any kind. You have the right not to help rebuild the country, and you have the right to criticize those who are trying to do it, but you don’t have the right not to help and only criticize that things aren’t exactly to your liking. If you don’t like something, change it. That was the lesson of the Jan25 revolution after all, you know?

So please, if you agree with our vision, join us, and if you can’t, simply defend us. We have achieved so much, that it would be a sin to stop now.

Help us! We need you!

Sincerely,

Mahmoud Salem

(A Jan25 Protester)

Egypt : a freedom song

Justice makes for a clear blue sky

by Waleed Almusharaf on February 28, 2011 · 9 comments

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Tahrir Square on February 1, 2011. (Photo: Zadokite)

“Gratitude. And a prayer for the martyrs.”
– Facebook status, February 11th 2011

A prayer for the martyrs is also to remember: The problem was not the events, but what happened. There are things about what happened which cannot be told it seems, some which cannot be told in writing, and there are some things which we don’t want to tell, maybe. We’re jealous over them, we do not understand them, and to be truthful, they are not important to anyone else. But of the things we tell, it is important to remember that the problem was not the events.

The morning before, on Tuesday, February 1, Tahrir had the translucent quality of a vision. We walked past the remains like old dinosaurs of the security trucks burned and overturned on the main wide boulevard of Qasr il Aini, the burned remains of the National Democratic Party buildings like the remnants of some past empire, and then, for days after, M. and I pointed to the sinister scorched segments of the road, and traced together the trajectories of bullets through lamposts and phone booths.

“The battle of Qasr il Nil bridge,” he called it, and chuckled in embarrasment, as he told me the story and what he had done. Someone later said, I do not remember if it was a friend or a stranger, with less self-derision and as much pleasure:

“After breaking through the lines of the Security Forces, you found yourself in Tahrir, and you took a deep breath, stretched your arms as wide as they would go, and thought: Our country!”

I wondered if Tahrir was translucent because of that fight. That is, I thought that I, or the people who had fought, or the thought of the fight, was making Tahrir glow, the way they say in the poems sometimes about people who are in love. But after we passed the army checkpoints, and after we had seen friends we had not seen for many years, or who had returned from their lives overseas to be here if only for a moment, and as I lay down in the grass and looked up at the sky I knew suddenly why.

It was the pollution. For thirty years there had been smoke and poison over the square where we went to university, in layers over the buildings, and the trees breathed it and it dulled their colour. It came from the cars, from the factories all over the country, the cigarettes even, from the burning of rice straw and garbage. It came, really- we can admit it now- from us. And now it had stopped. It was the first time in my life that I had seen the sky over Tahrir blue, and the rain washed the buildings clean and the trees, breathing clean air, sparkled as though wet with dew, although I knew it was past noon, and too late for dew. “It seems like justice makes for a clear blue sky,” I joked later to a friend. The air was so fine it shimmered whenever chanting began.

It was a frighteningly fragile thing. There were too many of us, you see. We were all there, the rich of us, the poor of us, the poorest and the ones in between. The ones with beards and the ones without, the old of us and the young, those who thought we would make it and those of us who thought we would never leave that square. Even the attention of those of us who couldn’t make it back yet was there, and the attention of those, we heard, who had never been here or who had visited us once and had fond memories.

We had no idea what to do. There was a sign at the checkpoint made by the protesters. It said: So that we don’t allow foreign agents among us. It was a familiar and sinister phrase in a security state, but when I asked the protester who checked my ID card why he looked at the back and didn’t even glance at my picture he said, “I just need to know your occupation.” And when I asked him why again, his answer made me laugh out loud, because I realised what the sign meant in this case: He said, “To make sure you’re not a cop.” As he searched me for weapons, he apologised. “Forgive me,” he said. So there we were in Tahrir, without the police, and without government, asking each other for forgiveness, and hemmed in by tanks.

Over the next days, we walked a line so fine, we never knew when we had lost it, or when we were on it. A. told me that when he was resting his head, exhausted, on his girlfriends shoulder, in Tahrir square, in the centre of Cairo, a young man probably from the Muslim Brotherhood walked up to the girl and said politely, “Miss. Is this guy bothering you?” And when she answered no, he said said with dignity, “In that case, excuse me,” and walked away, content. For the first time in years, women walked around without fear of being harrassed on the streets branching out from the square.

A man sat down next to me and began to speak: “I didn’t come to protest, I came to look for my brother. I have a wife and kids and couldn’t afford to protest. But my brother did and so I came to look for him. I went into that public toilet though, you know that disgusting one in the square, the one they never clean? There is a man there of so high and respectable a position, God knows best what his position is. I think he is a Professor at the university. He was on his hands and knees cleaning the toilet. It’s clean now. And somebody left a bar of soap there, you know, the kind that if you buy it for the mosque, you come back an hour later and someone has stolen it? There was a bottle of shampoo too, so you could wash your face. When I came out of the toilet, someone was there with a bottle of perfume and he gave me some. I think I’ll stay.”

Over the next several days, something happened in the square. We all knew exactly what it was, but we did not have a name for it. I think maybe it has no name. The newspapers, the television, some actors, one or two university professors and some other people, had many names for it. They knew what it was too but the names they used were wrong, so we won’t use them here. All that can be said is that it was a feeling that reminded one of something M. said to me later: what happens when two drops of water come closer, closer, closer and then, what happens after the quivering surface of one touches the quivering surface of the other.

Whatever it was, it meant that we spoke to each other the way we always wanted to speak to each other, softly, as if we were more important than what was being said; that a man came at one point and said he was a dentist, and did anyone need work done on their teeth; another three men, barbers, came and, just because they thought it would be uncomfortable to not shave for so long gave who ever wanted one, a shave and a haircut free of charge; and the man who sold koshary saw that this is all we were eating and sold it to us at what must have been the price it cost him to make it. Anything could have killed it, because it was like music, it had to be perfect or it became noise. The majestic anger, which could only be grown in the soil of thirty years of patience could have spilled into hate. The joyful humour could have slipped as it had for years, into a cynical defeatism. Even the heroism of the people of Suez, and willful militancy of the people of Mahalla, could have blazed into a violence which could not be stemmed. As I watched we walked by and gave greetings and flowers to the military, and they gave us back tired laughter. We sat in Tahrir square, and sometimes I found I was holding my breath.

What happened was, they tried to kill it. They prepared it carefully, the night before, that Tuesday night, at eleven in the evening, when the people in Tahrir were tired, and the several million Egyptians who had been there that morning had gone home, and the US administration had had a good night’s rest and was wide awake and listening. M. and I were on our way back home to our flat three streets away from the square. We had gone to drop off some friends further down the road and on our way back saw him speaking on the television in a small cafe. He seemed suddenly for all the world just as he was, an old man, who used too much henna on his hair to hide the grey, and too much wealth had tired his flesh and too much power for too long had given him an air of solitude and a hardness and a cunning which he was too old to hide and of which he was too arrogant to be ashamed.

He said we were foreigners, and later he would say that we were paid by them. He said we did not have care for Egypt. He said he was talking to the peasants, labourers, muslims, christians, the young, the old, the city dwellers and the country folk. We didn’t know who he was talking to, we thought that was us. He said he had never, ever been interested in power. He referred to himself in the third person. And then he said he was an old man, and all he wanted to do was to die on this land and be buried in it. The next morning, Tahrir square had the translucent quality of a hallucination.

We’re not the KFC type

They came very quickly. A friend had footage on his mobile phone of the speed of the escalation of the events, as they began to enter Champollion street into the square. The log says 12:53 p.m. The funny thing is, M. told me it was three o’clock when it began, and that is also what I think. Still, the facts remain I suppose. Perhaps, after all, that it only seemed later in the afternoon because the light took on that trembling quality which it seems to take when one is weakened by fever. As it began, I saw a young man, who had fallen to the ground facing the centre of the garden at the middle of the square, forehead pressed to the grass.

The frontline of the clash was to my left in the direction of the Egyptian Museum and Abdal Monim Riad square, but only fifty metres away. There were tears in my eyes. I was crying because of the agitation of the air caused by the violence, and because I knew that he had done it, and he had done it only because of his pride. I was crying because the people who were coming were us, and the people who were fighting them off were us, and we were watching, and we didn’t know what to do.

All around me, men and women were crying, some were fighting, and some were looking around them as though hypnotised.

On my right, there was a group of men yelling into the television cameras, “We will not get angry!” Over and over and over again. I think I was also crying because it seemed to me to be a thing infinitely pitiable that a man should shout with all his might, and with such desperation, simply to try for the dignity of not being reduced to anger. They knew, as did I, that what we were seeing was what had been happening in this country for thirty years. A malignant will had exerted itself in our direction, had coldly set us against each other, and we were stunned I think, by how we could have thought for so long that we hated ourselves, when we had shown such mercy to one another in the past week. It was like returning to sleep, and finding you had slipped and fallen back, into the same nightmare. In my memory there is M.’s voice, with prophetic clarity, close by: “It is as if all that has happened for the past week, never happened.” I have no image, but only an awareness of an intention: to make it to the boy with his head prostrated to the floor at the very centre of the square.

As I walked I said to everyone I passed, and many of them said to me in confusion: I will not fight these people, these people don’t understand anything. I felt a deep sense of shame, and that I had to get to the boy with his forehead pressed to the ground, and when I did I went down on my knees. He looked so still, but when I lay my hand, as gently as I could, on his back I could feel him tremble. His whole body was humming with grief. And he was making a frightening prayer: “God. Destroy them. Separate their unity. Cause them to stumble. Take them back to you. Quake the earth beneath them. Take them back to you. Burn them. Burn them. Burn them. Take them back to you.” And then, a tender prayer, but more frightening: “Do not punish them for the sins I have committed, do not curse them for the evils I have committed. Take me and leave them. God! Take me and let them be. Take me. Take me. Take me.” I became afraid for him and gripped him by the neck. “Do not say that,” I said to him angrily. “It’s a sin to call these things on yourself.” He held utterly still, but his hands, which had been turned up to the sky, gripped the grass until they became white.

And then the strangest thing happened. Out of the violence, which kept increasing in intensity and had moved some distance towards the Museum at the end of the road, came a ripple, and a light rhythmic tapping like on the darbuka drum which accompanies dancing and then, breaking through the crowd surrounded by ecstatic faces, came a white horse. It tossed its mane, and made as if to turn, and then pushed forward into the centre of the square where it was calmest. I walked towards where the horse had come from and a man passed by me, turned, looked me in the eye and said in disbelief: “They sent slavemasters. Slavemasters.”

What they had done was: send hired thugs, and regular egyptians who were afraid for their livelihood, which he had cut off by refusing to leave, and for their safety, which he had threatened by sending policemen and thieves and murderers to their homes. He sent with them police officers and security forces dressed in civilian clothing, to incite and direct them. He sent them into the square on several horses, and a camel, carrying whips and swords and sticks, to kill us. We found out later that they weren’t even paid more than they usually were to intimidate voters, or beat activists. Five hundred Egyptian pounds and a KFC meal, in Cairo. Two hundred in the provinces, where life was less expensive. I don’t know whether KFC was included in the provinces. The insulting high handedness, the casual contempt, the sheer feudalism of the thing, transformed the square as that horse trotted through it.

The strange thing about that horse is this: When it came through the crowd it looked tired and afraid, and it did not know which direction was home. But the farther away in time I move away from it, the clearer a memory I have of it, breaking through that crowd, neighing, fierce, joyful and, above all, proud.

My memory only begins again when I am standing in the ranks next to the Mugamma building, M. and S. standing on either side of me, and K. and W. behind me, waiting for them to come. I had that calm that can only come after there is no more crying. When I looked behind me at the centre of the square I saw the horse they had come in on to shoo us or slaughter us like sheep. After we had taken the thug off it and brought it into the square, there was now sitting astride it a little girl, in a bright red dress, and hand raised in the air. She was shouting at the top of her voice, but she didn’t look angry. She was surrounded by men and women, laughing and shouting behind her. I had a strange feeling, but it felt correct. I turned my back to it.

I yelled out to the young man who was holding our line: “Hey! Are you gonna give us our KFC or what?” The men behind me laughed, and I smiled. He was young, younger than I was and young enough to be the son of most of the men there. He was thin, and carried a school backpack. I don’t remember if he wore spectacles, but he had that look of a student of history, and was at the same time affable and forbidding. He gave me a look intimate and challenging, as though we had known each other for a very long time: “We’re not the KFC type,” he said, with a mocking smile, “We’re the fighters.”

This is the first of a two-part post on the events of February 2, 2011 in Tahrir Square.

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The Egyptian divers’ protest

We are all Khaled Said During the Egyptian revolution, Egyptian divers in Red sea resorts protested against Mubarak just like Egyptians everywhere. The only difference is that Egyptian divers protested under the water.

I assume this is the first ever underwater protest in the history of Mankind. If it is, then this is yet another Egyptian inv…ention 🙂

Zionists will really freak out: “Today Egypt, tomorrow Palestine”


Sunday, February 20, 2011

This was a chant in Cairo yesterday: “Today is Egypt, Tomorrow is Palestine” (النهار ده مصر, بكره فلسطين) (And it does not even rhyme in Arabic).  (Listen at minute 1:50). (thanks A.)
Posted by As’ad AbuKhalil at 8:03 AM

March to Gaza – End Mubarak’s Egyptian Blockade of Gaza – Ken O’Keefe

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