Wednesday, September 07, 2011
Calling in the Dark
Let's call it how it is. The regime has not changed. The idea that the revolution is successful is the biggest adversary to the reality that the revolution is ongoing. The reason I say this is not out of optimism, for that is a quality that I do not truly possess. I say it because we haven’t been beaten yet. As long as there is a will to fight in some of the people who made what we’ve achieved so far possible, then then the revolution is ongoing.
I personally will not accept the status quo. I will not accept slavery. This is what the regime is all about. I do not accept it for myself, and I don’t accept it for others, even if they do. Those advocating slavery cannot free themselves, but rather, need to be set free. I am no savior, nobody is; but if enough people insist on their freedom, the others will be set free.
I have been set free; set free of my illusions. I am no longer under the impression that a leader in a uniform can save us. I know fully well that salvation comes from within. I have been granted that which many others have not. I have had the opportunity to see other places, to have a good education and to understand intellectual freedom. Don’t ask me to give that up. I won’t anyway.
I am a liberator. Not of everyone, but of myself. I feel liberated when I speak the truth. I feel liberated when I stand for justice. I feel liberated when my actions don’t fall short of the values I believe in.
Today, the SCAF is implementing true Mubarakism at its finest. It’s all of the oppression and misinformation. Today, however, I have become immune to it. I no longer tolerate the injustice of an oppressive regime. I may not have the power to do much about it today, but when I’m given the opportunity I will not be a coward.
I am not a brave person, nor have I ever been idealistic. But I was always capable of putting myself in another’s shoes. This is my blessing and my curse. I have imagined myself, beaten and broken. I have imagined myself unjustly locked up in military prison. I have imagined myself tortured and calling out for help. In my imagination, there has been no comfort but that of a voice calling out from outside the walls, ‘you are not forgotten’. That voice has been a comfort. I cannot help the torture or injustice, they cannot be altered instantly. I need only know that someone out there still remembers me; that I am not nobody. I am someone who exists and does not deserve this injustice.
In my waking hours, I am that voice that calls out ‘you are not forgotten’. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know why you’ve had to spend these rough torturous nights, but I am calling out. I know that they can’t hear me, but I’m calling out anyway. I am calling out because in their darkest hour, they must be imagining somebody out there who has not forgotten about them.
I have long resented the SCAF for their pride and their arrogance. They think that they have the right to control millions of people just because of a bank account. Their military trials are as unjust as the emergency law. Their deeds are as dark as their predecessor. I feel liberated when I call them out on their evil deeds. I may be just a feeble voice calling out in the dark, but I call out because I need to, not because others need me to. I call out because it matters what a person thinks. I call out because I’m free.