Surviving Corona

It's late at night and there's news of coronavirus all over the world. It's the starting sequence of a sci-fi movie, these are just the few seconds. What will come next is probably going to be uglier, because those who control where the world is heading are ugly. There will be no humbling experience except for the humble. This is what we've toiled for all those years. So that on this rainy day, the rich and the powerful can protect themselves and get even richer and more powerful. They control the little tax payments you make to their private interest. Now that it's time for you to collect what you're owed, you'll be thrown under the bus. This tax money was for their rainy day not yours. Money and resources will go to those who already have money and resources. You will continue to pay for their well being with your blood and sweat.

At a time when the world needs true leadership, those at the helm are anti-Science corporate bigots for the most part and those next in line are ancient relics whose only hope is to take us back 10 years ago when things were horrible but not disastrous. There is no collective hope to come out stronger as a society, but perhaps individual salvation is possible. We can recognize how fragile this world is, how meaningless businesses are in absence of life and health. We can recognize that race is a construct not respected by disease. We can recognize that we live in the disease of racism and xenophobia even though it's not biological. 

Perhaps all these things are possible, but I lost hope in human's ability to learn from what they see. The reality is that emotions are stronger than rationale, and as sad as it is to realize it, if you keep pounding a message for decades, it becomes the truth, even if debunked by simple logic. Most of what we know is 'on authority', yet it surprises me how much people fight for something that's not their own, for a view that was force fed to them. 

What happens next in our world. A worthy question. We realize we don't need to travel that much, we don't need to have that many conferences even though they are fun. We don't need to go out every day, even though that's fun. We recognize that we share a lot more than we thought. We share transport, we share the roads and we share supermarkets. Yes, that place where there is no escape from disease. The person at the cash register touches all your items, and touches your money. Anything there will be transferred.

I have thought of a way to get through this time, but I think I need a bit of science to formulate a plan. If only covid19 doesn't mutate or doesn't visit you twice, I would have had a perfect plan. For now there is nothing left to do but wait and hope, and now everything is a game of chance. Life is a game of chance. More so for the elderly than the young. 

There's a moment when I realized we can all be potential killers. If we pass this to the vulnerable we can kill. I think that's true of many things. Our decisions, our votes. It was always so remote, but now it's closer. Your carelessness can cost lives. It won't be easy living with that, being the victim and the perpetrator, all at the same time.   

But isn't that how we always are? We're gentrifiers, we're privileged. Even the privileged are victims of their own privilege and their blindness which they're born with. It's not their fault. To be born with privilege is to be born blind to injustices that should really not happen. Privilege is an exceptional normal state. It ought to be normal not to face injustice based on your skin color, it ought to be normal not to face discrimination based on your gender. It isn't though. It's only normal for the privileged. 

The privileged are born blind with the duty to see. Some don't fulfill their duty, and end up moderates in an extreme world, guilty of perpetrating the status quo. Others are worse, they seek to entrench their privilege and utilize the status quo, altering it to dig us deeper into that abyss of injustice. 

Nothing can even the odds at this point. The powerful don't need to normalize lying for everyone, they just need it for a big minority that are able to suppress the majority. They need the blind, they need the privileged, they need those who cannot see how entrenched we are in an extreme status quo. They need not be supporters, they need only be moderates, they need only be ineffective, obsessed with law and order at the expense of justice. 

The movie's opening seconds are apocalyptic. It's just a disease with a mortality rate of 2% some say. Certainly true, but there is a kindness in the nature of covid19 that we are yet to appreciate. It's a warning sign nevertheless. It targets, very clearly, the vulnerable. In some ways it is asking us to protect the vulnerable. But we will fail even this simple test. We have not had adequate training protecting the vulnerable. We have a neoliberal world order that exploits them.

Is it reasonable to think that all of a sudden a new found care for the vulnerable will be born? It will not happen. The vulnerable are expendable. That's disaster capitalism, that's what it has practiced for years, but without the same attention as the virus, because the killers had to be out of the news. Condemn the greed, but not the greedy, condemn the system, but not the actual people responsible for it. That's the way of the world.

There is a small difference now though. The capitalists don't get to choose who they kill. The virus chooses and that's why they must rush to protect themselves, even at the cost of protecting the needy. Make no mistake, protecting the needy is a huge price for the rich and powerful to pay. Ordinarily they would not pay it. But in order to protect themselves, perhaps they must pay that ultimate price. Why not appear compassionate too while they're at it. They will find ways of profiteering from the disease anyway and the from the constraints that will be placed on the masses working for them.

We're going to work to pay this debt in the future. How dare we be helped by the powerful. It doesn't matter, our taxes will mostly go to them. They will be bailed out when they fail to steal from us properly. They will be bailed out when they 'erroneously 'declare war because they 'learn' and 'grow', and their followers find that commendable. 

This is a crisis that offers an opportunity for us to grow and see the world for what it is. Just like I was exposed to the nature of power when I saw the streets of Egypt full of men with guns who wanted to enforce their rule and infiltrated all media to repeat their same old lies. I see the media around me full of these lies, they're a bit more clever, still not logical, but who cares. What really matters is that people don't care for logic and rational. They have their establishment 'intellectuals' feeding their egos, and filling their brains with status quo excuses. 

Whether it's 1984 or a brave new world, it doesn't matter. It all looks the same after a while of observation. The brave new world is far superior of course. It's more fulfilling, it provides the illusion of freedom. But a moderate in 1984 and a moderate in a brave new world are the same. Nothing but fuel to feed the machines of control. 

After the first few seconds of this movie, I don't know what happens. Maybe there will be heroes and villains that shape the world, but in these type of movies it doesn't matter. What really matters are the individuals that survive these events. What do they take with them from the old world is up to them.

To be honest, there's little to take from the old world except resistance to it. Maybe we can resist the inhumanity and injustices as we move forward. Maybe we can still fight against control and oppressive structures. That's still going to be worth something as we transition. I know that this is what I will try to take with me.

She Taught Me to Love the Moon

She taught me to love the moon. Every time I look up to the sky and admire its beauty I think of her. But how can I enjoy such beauty on my own? The moon was beautiful because of her. I urge myself not to contact her in attempts to share the beauty. What good will it do to try and share it with her if she doesn't want to anymore. No, I cannot share this happiness and beauty and in a way it ceases to be happiness and beauty.

The beautiful sky outside the city with beautiful formations in the morning clears up at night to paint the night sky with stars. I look up and see the moon shining upon the water and sand, I see each star and feel I’m in a painting. I want her to be here, but  that’s not possible and even if she were here, she wouldn't be. If only you could be here for this beauty, but would you find it beautiful too with me now? She has decided to share the beauty with someone else. I will not be the one she wants to point this too as she smiles and sighs.

I open my eyes wider to observe the scene around me. The simple huts and the hammocks around, all immersed in a dark blue color that I have not seen in any painting or photo. I want to capture it but I know others have tried and the paintings and photos do not do it justice. The sea and the sky melt into one dark blue color as soon as the distant land and ships disappear. I cannot capture this image with its deep colors flooding my eyes and that’s why I open them wide, to take the moment in, knowing it is fleeting, just like my time with her. On many nights I did not take it in, and that is what I regret, but I’m grateful that before it was over I enjoyed the moments and took them all in, knowing that they cannot be captured, only remembered.

The moon’s reflection on the surface of the water captivates me. This giant beacon of light overshadowing all other lights changes the color of the water making it look like a pathway to a magical land. The scene looks like a movie set. No. Better than a movie set, all the magic without anything false about it. The water looks as though one could walk on it.

Attempt to capture the moon's reflection on the water

She is the moon reflected on the surface of the water, but the part of the water upon which the moon’s rays are reflected shift depending on where you’re standing on the shore.

Still I cannot but look at nature and think of her. The beauty around me seems incomplete. But that person I want to share it with is not there anymore. There was something real about the whole thing, but it’s not there anymore. Just like a shooting star in the sky, momentary and passing yet beautiful for the brief seconds it may last. There’s no point running to where the shooting star fell or looking for it. It was just like the waves. She was the sea and our time together was like the waves that hit the shore to form a splendid sound, but then the waves were there no more even though the sea remained. She is still there but our waves are not, and I look upon my sea and remember my waves. The sea still moves me because for a brief moment the waves were mine.

Sometimes I want to send these thoughts and more to my waves, the moon’s reflection on the water, but I keep them to myself. I would be sending them to a place worse than nowhere. I would be sending them out to the sea, but they would never find her. It is a sea that I thought was mine but never really was.

The waves are gone and yet every time I look upon the sea I long for them. I must move on and come to terms that there will be no more waves for me, no more waves for me.

She taught me to love the moon; that I cannot unlearn. I have lost the waves, the shooting stars and even the sea, but I’ll always have the moon.  Sometimes I  long for her and sometimes I see her before my eyes but she’s not truly there. I close my eyes then search for the moon. I am comforted when I look upon it for that is the love I have left. But difficult are the days when the moon does not shine across the skies.

Listen to me in the background

A Question of Fashion

We try not to be controlled but it's not possible.

Our biggest problem is with cloth makers, they decide how they want us to look like. We grow up at a time when our fashion is mandated by what is present around us. We might choose to look a certain way but then they change things around. All of a sudden, it's not cool anymore to look the way you do. Even when you decide you don't care about their insipid fashion games, you can't maintain your look.  The kind of clothes that give you the look you want aren't for sale anyway. Time has a way of destroying your old clothes and changing your size. You may resist the change for a few years, but one day you wake up and find yourself looking like a completely different person and you can't do anything about it.

The Overcoat

You may hunt for what remains of your chosen fashion style, but all you will have is a cheap second rate alternative. You may look with contempt upon the next generation choosing those strange jeans or those ridiculous T-shirts, but they're as much a victim of circumstances as you are. You have  been driven down a path of conformity and there's nothing you can do to fight it. You have been driven into cheap alternatives for your chosen fashion style, and they have been driven to their own trendy fashion.

Weaving your own clothes is a good alternative.  I would rather choose an ugliness of my making than a beauty mandated by others. Of course, we aren't talking about any beauty here, they're just a set of choices that you never asked for in the first place. It feels that to be free one must be a designer of everything; clothes, furniture and ideas. There's no other way to live. But life isn't easy. Life doesn't want you to create your own path, but to implement a path which others, far more rich in resources, have chosen. Yes, you don't have time to design and implement your own version of life because others want you to implement theirs. Instead of designing your own look, you design it for others and skip all the furniture, ideas and what have you. There's a sort of specialization for each field and all you can really get is a choice about one aspect of your life. I don't mean you don't choose, I'm talking about creating choice not just choosing it.

Sometimes I wish I had more of a say about my life. I wish the car makers would ask me what I wanted in a car rather than just making cars and asking me to choose. I wish I had a say in what I looked like after wearing all their clothes.

One of the few options we have to taking control of our lives is to go for the individuals who support in decisions rather than make them for you. Tailors who ask you how you want to look like, carpenters who ask you how you want your furniture, builders who ask you how you want your house.

How do we get back to being so personal in a greedy world where, not only the producers just want to produce, but also consumers just want to consume? Greed is what hinders our quality of life. Why not just have a few things you've invested yourself in rather than a hundred things that you have just because you can?

I'm reminded of Gogol's story, The Overcoat. Akaky Akakievich invested everything in making a new overcoat  his. He designed it, he loved it and waited patiently for it to be done. It was a moving tale of investing yourself into something that reflects you. But the ending of that story is a very scary prospect. His coat was stolen from him in a moment of greed. In one moment, those who do not understand the value of investing yourself into something, in working hard for something, in loving something, in that moment an entire life was stolen, just like that.

Yes, it's greed that makes our lives less personal. Greed is what hinders our quality of life. But how do we make people love one another? How do we make people love themselves. How do we get people to choose how they dress?

The Hope of Being Understood

I'm not as thick skinned as I appear. I mock displays of sensitivity but not sensitivity itself. I hurt inside all the time and the rest of what I do is about hiding it. I think about what I must do to be perceived as normal.

Melancholic Javier Bardem

I hide everything because I never gained much by revealing anything. People tell you that talking about it can be beneficial but that hasn't been the case for me. It's beneficial for them so that they can counteract your sentiments that may be directed against them, not to empathize and understand. I've always been hurt when I reveal myself.

My hidden thoughts and pain simmering within me serve me well. Out in the open they're criticized and rebuked which causes me more pain. At least when they're inside there's hope that they would be understood if I just spoke up to the right person at the right time.

So I hide those feelings to seem strong. I'm not. I'm just resilient. I bend so as not to break and try to regain form. I'm insistent on my position but not unhinged. I insist on making people's lives better by keeping my irrational sensitivity aside.

I've tried to keep things inside in the past, but I wasn't always good at carrying out that decision. My feelings oozed out at times and burst at others. The results weren't pleasant. I got the worst of both worlds. I wasn't understood and I lost the hope of being understood. I've told myself to keep it all in no matter what and now I'm better at it. I'm better at putting on a show. It's always taken time to heal. I become the face that I pretend to be.

Displays of weakness are only appealing in a movie as the sad music plays in the background. It also helps when you're a charismatic actor who's loved even before you embody a role. When you see George Clooney or Brad Pitt crying, you don't feel sorry for them, you empathize because you know they are cool and will rebound. Because you value them, you also consider what they're feeling more seriously and less critically.

In real life it's pathetic. There's no close up, no camera zoom. Your weakness is an inconvenience in the real plot. In reality your face and each line that reflects your emotion isn't magnified. The light doesn't hit your face in a way that reflects your mood. There's no music to fill the silence surrounding your sobs and whimpers, in reality all you have are the people around trying to fill that empty silence with meaningless talk.

Utopia

"If you suffer your people to be ill-educated and their manners corrupted from infancy, and then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed them, what else is to be concluded, sire, but that you first make thieves and then punish them?"" 

~Thomas More

Mubarak’s Trial – Never Lose Heart

Seeing Mubarak in a cage, being tried through the will of the people is one of the greatest testimonies to the revolution. Only the most ardent of skeptics could claim that Mubarak would have showed up in court on 3 August if it wasn’t for the 8 July sit-in. It wasn’t the Islamists who came out on a very short burst and went back home before the day’s end, it wasn’t the SCAF who has unjustly tried over 10,000 people in military courts, it wasn’t the passive people who did nothing but criticize. They were the brave protesters of the July 8 sit-in. This is a great triumph for protesters in the face of adversity from the most powerful people in the country.

Before seeing Mubarak in court, I hadn’t really cared for what would become of this farcical trial, but then it hit me. We did it; we forced a tyrant into court despite being surrounded with his own people. We fought our way through traps and snares to come out on top.

I am still certain that the SCAF has no real intention of brining Mubarak to justice and when the pressure eases, they’ll go back to their old tricks. But we have forced them into this, they can pretend all they want that it isn’t real or that they’re in control, but part of it will always be real. They are now performing to please the crowd. No matter what happens afterwards, we brought a president we deposed to court and we demanded justice. This can’t be taken from us.

I must confess the events of the past few days wore me down. I was inclined to let it all go and try the all-comforting blindness of denial. I too can ignore the facts or fit them to my conclusions. I too can fain superiority and pretend to be above it all because both sides are mistaken. I too can condemn without knowing, can pick up and drive to the North coast and pretend that what I believe about the matter doesn’t matter.

My deep sorrow resulted from grave injustices experienced around us. It was exacerbated by the smear campaign against the sit-in and protesters. The large show of muscle by Islamists on Friday 29 July, and people’s insistence on not seeing it for what it is, troubled me. I sincerely believed in the 8 July sit-in and felt the demands were necessary to move forward. We were accused, defamed and degraded by people around us. To make matters worse, people cheered as Tahrir square was violently evacuated.

At the height of my temptation, I was reminded by a friend what it means to hold on. Without him even knowing how I felt, he sent me a message encouraging me to endure. I was reminded how much comfort I felt being around like minded individuals who held on to the closest thing possible to the truth. I was reminded of the sorrow that fills me when someone gives up on it.

The July 8 sit-in triumphed. It brought Mubarak to Cairo in a cage, it pressured the SCAF not to try the protesters it violently evacuated in a military court, it took the moral high ground. At a time when citizens were calling for execution of protesters, the protesters called for fair trials of their oppressors. The difference between citizens and protesters they were mad at was that citizens want selfish forms of justice while protesters want justice for all. At a time when the SCAF were spreading rumors about 6 April and protesters peacefully heading to the Ministry of Defense, the protesters spoke the truth and courageously soldiered on into the venomous trap set up by the SCAF, the police and armed thugs. The protesters proved beyond a doubt they are the better people, not those of the police, not those of the armed forces and not those who do nothing but criticize.

If there is one thing I must constantly remind myself of, it’s to choose the right side, not necessarily the winning side. There are far too many people around us that need us to keep the faith and never lose heart. There are so many strangers that are closer to us than people we see every day. We need to hold on to what we feel is right for one another. We must stand for justice when we can, because when injustice catches up with us, others will stand up for us too. We’re in troubling times when things too quickly get too dark, but no matter what, never lose heart.

The Great Divide

Instead of ranting on about things we don’t know, I’ll list the things we do. There is a great divide within Egypt. The truth is bitter. We’re in the same dictatorship, the Islamic factions are on the rise, people are sedated and revolutionaries are alone yet again. Tahrir has replaced the steps of the journalist syndicate, where a few warriors soldier on and the rest of the people are oblivious to what is truly happening.

People are tired; they’ve been dragged into a revolution they could have done without and with the heat, and with Ramadan, the situation has become unbearable. The businessmen are sick of not doing real business, they’re in limbo. If it’s a free market economy, so be it, if it’s a dictatorship, they need to know who’s running the show so they get down to business. The Copts resent the revolution because the Islamists are gaining ground. The Muslims aegypt, life, politicsre sick of what’s become of the revolution because it slows down Islamists from coming to power.

The liberals and the leftists want real change and policies that will ensure a democratic process and they are hoping for education to enlighten the people politically. The Islamists are happy to use religion as a political tool to mobilize masses. The SCAF is happy to let the whole thing burn as long as the pay off from Washington to protect Israel’s interests does not stop.

This is a great part of the truth, but the divide does not come from the truth, but from denial. There is a denial that prevents real unity. It is those little things around the truth such as intentions and interpretations that are causing the great divide.

Let me start with the revolutionaries, as others will take more offence to what I will be pointing out. Public support and international pressure is what aids a sit-in or protest. Without these, there is no winning, especially when up against an army of sinister men. There is great value in resilience, but the environment has to be conducive to this resilience. The lies of State TV work and Egyptians are alienated because of their lack of political foresight.

As for the masses, almost everyone knows that the sit-in that started on 8 July has nothing to do with security or our economy, yet many delude themselves into thinking that people there are spies, take money and are the cause of the economic problem. They are in denial that the SCAF is punishing Egyptians for the sit-in and that the regime we aimed to bring down is still alive.

Many of the moderate Muslims are in denial that the so called ‘Islamists’ are no representatives of Islam at all. Islamists have proven aggressive, deceitful and have a history of back stabbing anyone they’ve made a deal with. Many tend to forget that the Muslim Brotherhood sold out the Egyptian people to the English back in the day. They tend to forget that Islamic groups pick up arms in order to control other people’s lives. They tend to imagine that a few hundred thousand showed up at different cities at the same time, shouting the same slogans in defiance to prior agreement and left at the same time without it being orchestrated.

The Islamic groups being hunted down for ages and imprisoned are in denial that they are supporting the same injustices inflicted upon them. They hail the military ruler whose unjust sentences destroyed the lives of at least 7000 Egyptians from 28 Jan to date.

So much more denied, so much more. That is the real reason of the divide. It’s easy to listen to State TV and get the simple convenient lie that everything is fixed. It’s so much easier than finding out the troubling truth by reading between the lines and asking the right questions. It’s much easier to believe that the coming elections will be fair without any real evidence than to imagine the day where everything is bought and rigged again. It’s much easier to believe that our protectors are really protecting us than to believe that we’re being betrayed by corrupt men in uniforms.

It’s much easier to believe that those who were hurt deserved it and that it could never happen to you. It’s much easier to believe that you would now be respected in a country that robbed you of dignity, than think that you’re a voice that they want silenced if you speak the truth. It’s easier to believe that others don’t understand things the way you do, and that they’re deluded by one thing or another than it is to carefully examine all the facts and really listen to what others have to say.

It’s easy to have beliefs that oversimplify the truth and put your mind to rest, but the easiest of them all is to believe that it’s not your battle, that your choices will not make a difference; that they will do whatever they want anyway. The easiest thing is to believe that speaking up will not change a thing, and that it’s someone else’s responsibility to make things right.

A Momentary Relapse of Values

Where we go from here depends on how much we believe in the values we preach. Despite the values we adopted for a brief period of time during the 18 days that overthrew Mubarak, we relapsed into a state similar to that we've been in over the course of the past decades. The state I'm referring to is a combination of denial, ignorance, fear and apathy.

These elements are intricately linked in a loop. They feed off each other and one has to wonder what it would take to break this cycle. State media and other news sources are spreading lies which leads to ignorance, but that of itself is not enough. Denial must exist in order for you to act against every logical bone in your body that tells you not to believe state media that is well known for lying. Denial comes from fear; fear of authority, fear of a uniform, fear of the future, fear for safety, fear of change. In a country that has been at a stand still for decades, change may be more frightening than one would expect. And because the truth lingers in the background and seeps in, apathy is there to fend off any impulse to act against injustice.

The cycle needs to be broken, but what was it that brought about such a relapse after a miraculous awakening of dead Egyptians? The biggest change since the fall of Mubarak was the absence of the face of the smug leader smiling as his people suffered. The bitterness of thirty years directed at that face. Many may have went out with a pretense of scorn against injustice, but in reality the matters had become a personal matter between them and Mubarak. That is why many Egyptians will not speak up today against injustice. Those who opposed Mubarak during the 18 days before his fall and do not speak up against the SCAF injustices never really stood for something, it was always a personal vendetta between them and Mubarak.*

Egyptians have reverted to the same signature shortsightedness that haunted them throughout these years. The main question is 'How will this affect me?'. The self serving attitude is the norm that has simplified life for Egyptians over the years. That's not to say there aren't other flavors and reasons as to why Egyptians have backed down. There are those who firmly believe in the wisdom of their choice of silence. Many believe that things are not what they appear and numerous others are deceived by what the regime wants them to see.

It is saddening that protesters are more respected in the free world than they are in their own country. In the 18 days the international pressure to respect revolutionaries forced the couch party and other apathetic Egyptians to respect those calling for change. That pressure is now relieved by the lack of international media coverage and Egyptians are free to despise their proud countrymen.

Effectively, it comes down to values. Do the majority of Egyptians believe injustice to be unacceptable only when inflicted upon them personally or when inflicted upon just anyone? The answer to that will determine how we move forward or whether we move at all. Injustices must be taken personally, but not only when inflicted upon our person, otherwise, we have no hope of escaping failure at merely being human.

The Show Won’t Go On

The show’s over folks. There will be no more of that same old charade of the Supreme Council of Armed Forces (SCAF) playing good guy anymore. There will be no more acts in that play where they pretend to support the revolution. Things are back to normal. Corrupt officials and mass murderers are being released in anticipation of July 8. After all, the old regime has to face the people with all its strength.

The army is being lead by a group of sinister men. They are worse than Mubarak, and they’re willing to do anything to stay in power and protect their friends. The revolution isn’t yet to be celebrated no matter what Egyptian state TV says. The revolution continues to fight against injustice.

The real danger of the couch party is that it raises doubts about the realities that citizen journalist experience and convey to the public. Their main source of information is the state TV and the official press releases. These are mostly lies. Even those who read will be surrounded by lies from Ahram, Akhbar, Al Yom El Sabe3 and Al Wafd. The danger is that they hinder the collective consciousness of the Egyptian people that led to this revolution.

It has become apparent that it is futile to argue with the couch party, firstly because they will waste a lot of energy, but more importantly because they will not go out into the streets no matter what the circumstances. They only talk about politics because of the pressure to say something and adopt a point of view. In the end, the best way is to allow them to examine the evidence. Most of them are apathetic at heart, and they’re angry at something they don’t really know and so they blame the revolution.

The reason this is difficult is because we are dealing with the most powerful men in the country. They are rich and they command an army. Going up against them seems to be a losing battle. But it’s not the army we’re against, but the SCAF. How can we go up against these tyrants and win?

I don’t have an answer as to how we can do it, but I know why we can. The most important belief is that we’re right, that’s all we need. Fighting for what’s right must be worth something. David can take down Goliath. We have to believe that we can win with truth on our side. We have to believe that we can win when we’re fighting for justice. It doesn’t matter how it’s going to happen, the chance will come if we hold our ground.

We’re halfway there, and ahead of us lay two paths, one of a complete dictatorship or one of freedom. We can’t go back now, not after experiencing a taste of it, not after knowing how powerful we are and what we can achieve.

#NoSCAF

(The Mask of Freedom -Regards from SCAF to the children of our beloved nation)

It is no secret that I’m vehemently opposed to the Supreme Council of Armed Forces ruling the country. The numerous issues I have with SCAF are rather objective but I would be lying if I said these issues weren’t personal. The reason they can’t not be personal is because I am an Egyptian citizen and I take injustice inflicted upon Egyptians personally now. I take injustice inflicted about those who stand for what I stand for personally. So when men are tortured for protesting and women are subjected to virginity tests, I take it personally as we all should. It is our apathy that led us here in the first place and such apathy must stop. We must learn that injustices upon others that take place unchecked will eventually end up hurting us or someone we care for.

How can we condone tyrants, murderers and criminals? You say that we’re not, but our silence in the face of injustice makes us complicit in such troubled times. To be afraid of the consequences of facing the truth is deplorable. To delude ourselves into thinking that our fight for justice is over in 18 days is unacceptable.

For those seeking objectivity, I advise them to do a practical exercise: Go through all the communiqués delivered by SCAF and highlight the promises made and compare them to what has been done. I don’t mean started and I don’t mean about to start, I mean done as in completely scraped off that long list of promises. The number of unfulfilled promises is overwhelming, including things that could be done within hours of the communiqué like retrying some of the prisoners or pursuing the corrupt.

How is SCAF different to the previous government of broken promises? They were handed power by a trusting people only to abuse it and pretend the revolution was theirs to claim. They were never with the revolution. Not shooting protesters when they are in large numbers is not enough of an accomplishment. They have hurt smaller numbers when they knew they could do so without defeat. They have arrested protesters and tortured them when there were no great numbers to resist their arrest. They have sentenced innocents to military prison in a matter of hours when there were no lawyers to defend them. How are they different to the previous regime I entreat you.

The first thing we need to see is that Mubarak is still alive through SCAF. When we went out against Mubarak it wasn’t against his person, but his practices. No one was able to speak up against Mubarak when he was in power. No one is allowed to speak up against SCAF now that they are in power. How different are the SCAF practices to Mubarak’s? All we hear are unfulfilled words and statements that conflict with eye witness accounts.

I remember hearing Tharwat Badawy on television once saying that no one who ever comes to power ever relinquishes it. I strongly believe that this is true except for a few rare exceptions, but these men are no exception. They are men hired by Mubarak and he taught them all the tricks. If the SCAF were ready to show a sign of good will, they would have shared some of the power with civilians and yet to date, no civilian was involved in any decision regarding the fate of the nation.

Everything we took, we took by force and none of the promises they made voluntarily were truly fulfilled. They have given us as much freedom as we were willing to take by force, and have ordered a media blackout. The few rights we fought for will slowly be reclaimed, for they see us as petty slaves and view themselves as our masters.

It takes a blind person not to see this, and yet many are still blind. Yet it is the blind who are content with the abyss. I would rather be dragged there than willfully plummet.

Sexual Harassment

It's repetitive and inconsequential to write a post about sexual harassment but I'm writing it anyway. I'm writing because even though this post won't change a thing, we have to keep talking. We have to keep bringing up the things we want changed until we find a way to change them. We have to keep acknowledging the problem before we know how to solve it.

I have no solutions offered in words because I know that the real solution is offered in action. Change comes first from the moments we choose to speak and then from the moments we choose to act.

The Egyptian streets are filthied with garbage, dust and dirt, but nothing on these streets is dirtier nor uglier than sexual harassment. The act of harassment is symbolic of numerous vices. The disrespect of human beings, invasion of privacy, hypocrisy and poor character. It is the greatest sign of the weakness of the male gender in today's Egypt and the resilience of women in the face of adversity.

If there is one thing I would change about Egypt, it would be sexual harassment. It threatens my freedom and fills me with shame. We have no excuse not to stand up anymore because it works. If we do it consistently enough, we would be able to greatly affect the rate at which it happens. We have many tools to help us do this. We have a revolution on our side, we have education, tazers, language but most of all, we have right on our side and that is the most powerful weapon.

The Perks of a Uniform

Much of what I feel will have no impact on the course of matters, but I feel it anyway. The amount of adamant denial displayed by a people so desperate for a savior is beyond belief. It saddens me that people cannot see injustice even as it looks them in the eye.

I do not blame the army for protecting Mubarak, I do not blame the army for protecting Safwat, I do not blame the army for protecting Serour, I do not blame the army for keeping alive an evil that has run the country into ruins. I do blame the people who deserve to be oppressed and are oppressors themselves. They do not only want to suffer the oppression but blame anyone standing up for it. They praise the oppression if it comes in a uniform and condemn rights if it comes in civilian clothes.

The Egyptian silent majority are really ignorant, or enslaved in a form of thought that has completely weakened them. I’m sad to say that they are not in business for a fight for freedom, but they are trying as best they can to serve a slavery sentence. They have accepted their masters, the army, with open arms and complete surrender. They speak to revolutionaries as if they were slaves, but they do not realize that they are free. Yes, the slaves do not realize that the revolutionaries are free people whose fight for freedom will not be mandated by the slaves, nor by the masters.

Let’s think about the future of Egypt, they say. They remind me of Jews who resented Moses’ attempts to set them free. They blamed him for demanding their freedom.

I cannot blame them. They would rather live as slaves than die as free people. The rationalization behind their denial comes in various forms and seems to them impeccable. Yet their escape from the reality of what’s around us is saddening. They would sooner disbelieve their senses than believe something contrary to what’s in their head.

I will not claim a superiority here, I will claim that I don’t see things their way. The good intentions of the army make their actions hard to justify, but assuming a sinister intention, they become easy.

All these excuses are because the army is wearing a uniform. If other groups of people killed to their advantage, the people would be angry, but because they wear a uniform they are given excuses.

The same people who ask me to shut up about violations have once spoke of justice, of truth. Yet why is it that everyone is a bloody politician now? Why do we have to tolerate the same violence, torture and killing of the previous regime just because there’s a new face? Will it take 30 years for slaves to realize they’re enslaved?

You’re enslaved to the army now. If you believe their lies, if you believe that people don’t have the rights they were universally given. Pseudo intellectualism is more dangerous than ignorance.

At the end of the day these are just thoughts. It’s hard to convince someone that one plus one equals to two if they tell you that in the long run, we should assume it’s four. How do you argue with that?

Somewhere along the line, some will be offended. I would be too if what I read disagreed with my thoughts. But I don’t think that I can lie about my feelings so as to not lose friends. I do believe in the principle of honesty, something which others have difficulty with.

Never has standing up to something wrong been incorrect. If you want to play politics then forget values you’ve been taught. Play it dirty, and stay out of my way. I do not desire your weakness and your denial. I do not desire your immoral route to salvation.

Two Ways About It

I find myself often thinking about Tahrir republic. It’s a time that I miss immensely, where childlike hopes and dreams got us together in hopes of changing a nation. Every word shouted and every stranger helped seemed vital in our steps forward towards changing what seemed unchangeable. There was strength in numbers, but there was also strength in every individual whose actions meant something. The vast beaches though are made of these tiny grains, determined to make sand what it is. These grains don’t complain about their insignificance, and even when buried under the sea, their color helps determine the reflection of the skies above.

My Tahrir nostalgia comes not from missing the place, but from missing the spirit. It’s a spirit which was crushed for ages under the weight of oppression, a spirit which was once told it would never amount to anything; that they were young and foolish, and other generations were better. That spirit brought back a rolling body from the edge of a cliff and gave it life once more. That spirit became alive when every one of us believed that the little things they do make a difference. That spirit of Tahrir faded for some time, and I look back upon it ever so lovingly, missing it.

That’s what they said, right? That people weren’t ready to accept one another. That people weren’t ready to decide amongst themselves as to what they want. What I’ve seen with my own eyes tells me different, tells me that people are willing to love one another, that people are willing to help one another, that people are willing to die for one another. The memory of what we stood for in Tahrir is ever so strong, ever so powerful, ever so compelling that I refuse to believe that it was just a shooting star.

Skeptics have compared that what happened in Tahrir to the effect of drugs that is wearing off. I don’t think I can believe that having seen what I did. I believe that what happened there was a real goodness that cannot be evoked by adding a layer of lies, but one that is uncovered by removing a layer of lies. Tahrir is the core and all else are layers of dirt.

I can see the layers of dirt covering us again, camouflaging who we truly are just like years of oppression have managed to do so. But the dirt is not enough, for our true core shines from beneath it. I do not say this now because of what I have witnessed in Tahrir, but because of what I saw even at the height of an oppressive regime. Those bursts of goodness experienced rarely but vigorously have helped me realize what we’re made of. The sedation, the drugs is what the media feeds us. The passing effects are stimulants that play on our untamed instincts. As time passes, we shake the dirt from over our heads. If anything at all, that’s what we’ve learned to do in Tahrir. We’ve learned that we can band together if we rid ourselves of dirt, we can find a genuine love to unite us more than ideologies and interpretive beliefs. We’ve learned to really enjoy the goodness we receive from strangers. We learn to want to give back to others when we realize that strangers have died for us to fight for our freedom and dignity. The least we owe them is to love one another as they have loved us. Giving our lives is not something we are willing to do, but the least we can do is give up some of our differences for a greater good.

Every time I think of Tahrir, I think about the people who were ready to help one another and die for one another. How is it that we got so divided? It doesn’t matter, the real question is how will we be united. Every time I think of Tahrir and the sacrifices made by those who had more to lose than I did, it makes any ideological subtleties insignificant. Every time I think of sacrifices, I’m willing to sacrifice something of my own.

There are two ways to think about Tahrir and where we’re heading. It’s either that Tahrir was a temporary phenomenon, a chance encounter like a stone thrown into a water, whose ripples are fading, or to think that Tahrir is who we truly are and that our petty differences are dirt following the regime’s strategy of telling us we were never worth anything.

This will always be something for each to make up their mind about. I know that what I saw from people in Tahrir could not have been an illusion. It was there and I touched it. When people bond together, that’s what’s real. Politics, money and the thirst of power that ensues isn’t, even though the world wants us to believe so.

All It Takes Is a Push

Been some time since I wrote what I felt without really thinking. I don’t really know what to write though. Maybe it’s because I’m tired, and maybe it’s because I have no thoughts and maybe it’s because I cannot decipher my feelings at the moment. I’m not sure what it is, but I want to express how unsure I am of what I’m feeling.

My presence in a barren land makes my head a wasteland where no real thought or emotion would dare pass through. The thoughts are simple, the feelings are simple. Everything is simple and yet made complex by that desire of a country to be something it is not. In an attempt to race against time and to catch up with those who have journeyed before, the country has let go of all its baggage and swiftly moved forward. As it approaches the finish line it may realize that it has left everything of value behind.

I’m relatively okay. I don’t know what that’s relative to. That’s the problem with relative, is that you don’t really know what to relate to. Maybe that’s also the problem with absolute, you don’t know what to relate to.

Sometimes it feels as though there’s so much to do, but what does it all matter? It feels like there’s so little to do as well. Small acts, big acts, medium acts, they’re all part of the same coin that falls flat on one side or may fall on its edge and rest there.

It’s liberating sometimes to express these thoughts to paper, a loyal friend that has never rebuked me for any kind of ink I place upon it. The paper understands and stares back at me, even though it should not.

All it takes is a push, and you’re somewhere else. We never think of these pushes when we’re on a flat land, we think of them when we’re on an edge of sorts, either trying to go up, or trying to go down.

Somehow, something has been expressed.

Accusations and Other Stories

I posted this video on posting it I explained my reason “I like the first bit showing photos of Cairo University and the evolution of dress there.”

I was surprised then by a backlash of anger from many Muslim friends who accused me of several things: spreading Islamophobia, spreading hidden message through a ‘trend’ of posts and radicalism.

The idea that posting a video can be construed as spreading Islamophobia, or have a hidden message or accusations of radicalism was shocking to me. They are three different accusations about one movie, even though my comment about what I thought was interesting about the movie was crystal clear.

I asked friends what my message was, or what was offensive about the film, but I was not given a clear answer. I was left to ponder over these reactions on my own and draw my own conclusions.

At first I thought it was intellectual terrorism, much like that of objections to any sort of accusations to the army. However I hadn’t made any accusations, so I discounted it and now I’m sure it had to be the film itself.

I have one objection about the film, the choice of music and editing while showing the contradiction between the veil and the rest of the clothing. In a way the point is driven too hard, and I prefer subtlety in films. The interesting thing about the film is that there is no narration, and all other shots taken in the film are from real life. There is something genuine about the reality portrayed in the film which I have captured with my own eyes, without making any judgments on Islamic teachings.

The objection can be to the same scene that I object to, but it can also be to the merely non Islamic point of view of presenting the culture of the Hijab. In films, you’re allowed not to cover all angles of a topic, you’re allowed a director’s eye that captures what you see.

The conclusion is that anything remotely linked to religion is taboo to talk about if religion is not exonerated. This is very worrying in my opinion because it seems that any culture permeated by religion cannot be discussed. It is at the same time worrying that this exact sentiment has been spread by the Ekhwan, saying that criticizing Ekhwan may be equivalent to criticizing Islam.

I must admit there is something even more worrying; discussions about certain topics are based on emotions, without an objective clarification as to why there are objections. The idea that people are emotionally driven is worrying for me. I too am passionate, but I would take the time to explain to my friends my point of view.

Hope

We are united in our desire to do what's right, this makes us powerful, and this eliminates our fear.

Something was born of the revolution, something that makes the dark times brighter, something that makes us better people, something that raises us when we’re down. That something is hope. It is hope that I see around me that lifts people despite the harrowing news, despite the confusion.

It seems a little childish of me to hang on to something like hope. The word had lost its meaning in the recent dark ages that passed. It was a something to mock, something to ridicule, something out of a cheesy movie. It was a word much like 'love' defiled and stripped of meaning. In Egypt, one could have asked if you believed in 'hope' in the same manner as one would ask if you believed in 'love'. I am aware now as I write this of how silly it may sound to those who have not experienced a revolution within themselves, but I make the case for hope having experienced it ever so closely.

It is a feeling of value, that I matter, that my actions mean something and help someone. It is a feeling that despite everything I can be helped by someone. It is the belief that good can triumph if you fight hard enough. It is all of these childish fairy tales that I believed before. When hope was born, I became like a child once again, with the same faith I had in great notions without any of the doubt. But this hope is better than that of a child's, for it is one that understands reality and is not deterred by it. It is a hope that is not moved by danger or the dark reality. It is a world is seen from a different vantage point, even though it hasn't changed at all. This sort of hope is more sophisticated because it retains the optimism of a hopeful child and the wisdom of an old cynic.

Police treason left us with some of the darkest experiences the country had ever witnessed. The aim was to drive us back to despair, but it didn't work, it was too late, hope was born. With much pain this hope was born, with much sacrifice, with much death. These trying times would have discouraged Egyptians before their new found hope, but they bore it out, they welcomed the darkness served with vengeance from our ex enslavers. It was a price they accepted to pay for what's to come, the hope that was born.

There's something different about Egyptians. Those losing money may be upset but not troubled, those facing danger are worried but not feeling unsafe. The youth finally feel they're the future of the country. Some of have done great things for other countries but were deprived of that chance in Egypt.

In the past, it didn't matter what we did for the country, we knew that somewhere along the line it would hit a dead end at some corrupt official’s desk. We expected stupidity from our government and we got it.

People started to care because there was hope that their action or sacrifice will not be in vain. Hope was injected suddenly into the veins of Egyptian. It was as if someone who had died was resuscitated, opened his eyes, took a deep breath and jumped up as if he hadn't died at all.

I write this now even as things have not turned out as we Egyptians hoped for. We’re still dealing with the old regime with new faces. Very little has changed but the little that has is very important. The people have changed, and they now have a new found weapon called hope. I write this now even though I feel down continuously, worn down by all our attempts foiled by the corrupt who roam the country unquestioned. I see my friends feeling down too. The evil of those who govern Egypt is deeply rooted.

At times like these I remember that people can make a difference, and that as long as this hope is alive, we have something to lift us up in the face of events to come. At times like these I remind myself that people can cause things to change. I remind myself that we could foil the plans of a few corrupt men even though they have the guns and the power to command an arsenal of mercenaries. They may have the power to command, but we have the power to love one another.

I remind myself of how many more people are choosing to do what’s right, how many more people are willing to die for what’s right. I remind myself that what we do today makes a difference, that we have a chance to act based on our principles without necessarily expecting to fail. I remind myself of the valor and the sacrifice of young men and women who died. I remind myself of my fellow Egyptians who left the rest of the world in awe. All I have to do is visit Tahrir Republic or remind myself of it. I remind myself of truth. I remind myself of freedom. I remind myself of justice. But most of all I remind myself of hope, which makes all these things possible.

They Wanted Justice

One of the most phenomenal aspects of the revolution in Egypt is how young people went out in masses despite their usual passiveness and the pervasive culture of fear security bodies have built.

(Down with the regime)

30 years of oppression provide ample reason to go out and protest whether for price increases, poor wages, taxes, pensions or the corruption within the entire People’s Assembly. Many of the protests before January 25 were related to professional grievances. There were protests for doctors’ wages, railway workers, government employees and factory workers. All of these in my opinion were just catalysts.

The real reason people went out and protested on January 25, 2011 was because of Khaled Said. In June 2010, Khaled Said, a young man of age 27, was murdered in Alexandria at the hands of two police goons in plain sight. He died for seemingly no reason but refusing to show his identification to the plain clothed policemen who did not want to present him with their ID. They violently dragged him out of a cyber café, took him inside a building next door and beat him till he died. When charges were brought against the police, the forensic report was falsified and the Ministry of Interior started a smear campaign against the young man full of lies in order to cover up for the policemen.

This incident of brutality infuriated most of the young people of Khaled’s age and class. It had been a long standing unspoken rule that people from good families were never mistreated by the police. This incident, the blatant smear campaign and the protection of the murderers struck a chord with young middle-class Egyptians. In retaliation, they staged demonstrations that took place opposite the Ministry of Interior protesting the injustice that had befallen Khaled. This was one of the few mass protests where ordinary citizens other than activists, journalists and certain professionals decided to partake including the disgruntled youth.

The Ministry of Interior confronted the protests against police violence with police violence. Brutality terrorized protesters and many were arrested through the use of violent thugs.

The young men and women, desperately trying to get their message across devised alternate forms of protests that wouldn’t anger authorities. They decided to protest in creative ways, such as asking people in Cairo and Alexandria to wear black, stand on the bank of the Nile or the Mediterranean, backs to the street reading whatever holy book they believe in. The authorities were still angered at this form of silent protest and cracked down on the protesters in various ways. It felt that authorities were not angered by the manner of protest, but by the concept of citizens expressing themselves collectively in any way.

The feeling of oppression was driven to new limits with a clear message from security bodies: anyone can be picked on; anyone can be beaten to death. Not only do you have to accept it, but you have no right to object.

The feeling of injustice lingered on with those young men and women. It was an implosive force waiting for a chance to explode. Khaled Said was a true symbol of someone young, talented and vibrant, whose life was stolen unlawfully by those who were supposed to uphold the law. The slogan, which authorities may have taken lightly was, “We are all Khaled Said.”

Till today the authorities are wary of some sort of conspiracy theory unaware of how true the slogan was. The young men and women felt as though they were Khaled Said, it wasn’t a shallow slogan like those the government invents. They felt his mother’s pain and they felt his injustice as he asked he pleaded with his murders to stop their brutality.

Despite all efforts, Khaled Said was not forgotten. He was the epitome of everything that was wrong with this country. Everything was building up in the background: poverty, ignorance, corruption, dictatorship and misrepresentation, but Khaled Said hit very close to home.

When the Saints’ Church in Alexandria was bombed right after the biggest falsification of the People’s Assembly, people were further charged. When Tunisia proved that dictators can go and that injustice can be fought, the implosive energy exploded.

Joined by others with various grievances, those young men and women took to the streets starting January 25 charged with a load of injustice. The young men and women fighting for their freedoms went out fighting for one another. They went out fighting so that there wouldn’t be another Khaled Said.

They did not want police brutality to continue unquestioned; they did not want to live in a sea of injustice. They wanted the perpetrators held accountable. They wanted to be safe and they wanted their friends safe. They wanted a future where parents would not wonder if their child has been beaten to death by the so-called upholders of the law. They wanted a chance to express their anger, and tell the world not to believe the lies of the police and the regime. They wanted life; they wanted justice.

Must they Protest?

There is a recurring pattern regarding the protests. On the day of the protests Jan 25, State Television remarked that the protests started well but turned violent in the middle of the day. This was done to justify police violence. On Jan 28, reports of the protest of Jan 25 changed completely, and the whole day was turned miraculously into a flawless, peaceful march, but that the real perpetrators infiltrated the protests on Jan 28. Some of the protesters were accused of setting police stations on fire.

In the following weeks, the same thing happened, again and again. Previous protests were commendable but the most recent were or maneuvered by a foreign agenda. Do you see a pattern?

Today, Safwat El Sherif and Gamal Mubarak have been removed and Hussam Badrawy, a man of more moderate opinions was put in charge of the NDP. Those who have asked for an end to the revolution have celebrated its triumphs. Every day they ask for protests to end, and are surprised by the results of its continuation.

On Friday Feb 4 there was propaganda that almost 70 percent of the protesters were from the Muslim Brotherhood. Irrespective of sources that tell me otherwise, how does one reconcile the mixed messages? There were around one million people in Tahrir, this means 700 thousand of them were Muslim Brotherhood. If they had that many people in Tahrir, they would have been obvious for starters. If the Muslim Brotherhood had these numbers, why weren’t they there on Friday? They wouldn’t have waited all these years to start demonstrations. It’s highly improbable. Also if Muslim Brotherhood were leading this movement, why would they stick so much to the peaceful demonstration philosophy?

If 70 percent were the brotherhood, that leaves 30 percent. Since almost everyone has been accused of having a hidden agenda, we can estimate a total of 25 percent of Syrians, Iranians, Israelis, Tunisians and Americans, which leaves 5 percent that can only be Egyptians unhappy with our dictatorship. Does that even make sense?

The game is to convince people that protesters are to blame. But are they now? Let’s consider the facts. The reason work did not resume after protests is because the internet was out and because the Ministry of Interior let prisoners out. So why are protesters being blamed? It’s because the government said so, and nothing else. Why is there a curfew? Because the government has organized militia to terrorize Egyptian people. If you come to think of it, protesters are to blame because they stood against tyranny and terror, and for that the whole of Egypt is punished using tyranny and terror. When you ask protesters to go home, you are asking for the punishment by the government to stop. You are succumbing to the tyranny we all resent. People are risking their lives for our collective rights, and they’re being backstabbed by those who fear oppression and thus will end up being oppressed.

The argument that the economy is collapsing is meaningless. It is also a form of collective punishment. The regime is hurting our economy to scare us. Why do you support the regime in the terrorist activity of destroying our economy? Don’t you know that if corruption is removed, we’ll rebuild our country in very little time? Don’t you know that one corrupt official like Ahmed Ezz can balance out any deficit even if they punish us like this for another month?

Before talking of the economy, remember again how it is being robbed. Our losses due to theft and corruption are more than those due to the suspension of trade. We will make it up when we become a true democracy. There will be investments to rebuild and this time, they will flow to the economy rather than some Swiss bank or mansions in Paris, New York or Frankfurt. Mubarak has 40 -70 billion dollars of our country’s wealth. To put that into perspective, our total deficit is 32 billion dollars. Don’t worry about our economy, if some people can amass that much wealth, then the country will be fine when they leave.

To those saying ‘give the government a chance’, I agree, but what’s stopping them? If they are true to their promises, the country will change irrespective of the protesters. The protesters are there to ensure that the decisions taken align with the promises. If the protesters had left when you first asked them to, Safwat El Sherif would have still been in power, Ezz and Adly on the loose, and a million other promises not unfulfilled. You really don’t know what you’re talking about asking people to leave and reaping their victories. You’re entitled to have an opinion, but please don’t discourage those in Tahrir fighting for your rights. It’s enough as it is that you’re not doing any of the fighting.

If the regime is not changed, you will have a powerful, more oppressive police state. This is a regime that shuts down phones and the internet. This is a regime that sends in camels and horses to disperse crowds. This is a regime that runs people over with police trucks. This is a regime that promises freedoms and safe passage to all protesters in Tahrir and arrests them as its Prime Minister makes these statements. Do you think it is in any way serious about reforms?

These people have died and been injured and you’re upset because you weren’t able to go to the movies or make an extra hundred pounds? Freedom comes at a cost and you’re not paying any of it. If you want to be enslaved by a tyrant, it’s your choice, but don’t force others around you to become as cowardly as you are.

The Conspiracy Theory

Two concerns have been planted by the regime in an attempt to divide Egyptians over their support of the protests which started on 25 January. The first and foremost is whether the Muslim Brotherhood will take over, the second is whether there is a conspiracy within the government orchestrated by some unknown entity within the ministry of interior and executed by rogue agents and thugs. I’ll answer the latter even though in theory it should not matter because all responsibility lies on Mubarak.

In case you’re extremely confused and things seem conflicting, the answer to the question is a definite ‘No’. There is no conspiracy within the government, but there is a conspiracy taking place against the Egyptian people trying to win back their rights. Let me explain why there appears to be a conspiracy and why there isn’t one.

The idea that what happened on Friday was a conspiracy is appealing in order to avoid having to think that this sinister plot is one devised by our rulers. To spread this idea is extremely clever, but here’s why it’s not true.

How can we believe that a brutal police state does not have control over its most important tool? Is it conceivable that after 30 years, the police would defy the regime it has served so devotedly?

Where is the traitor? If there were a culprit, the government would have offered them as a scapegoat at least to appease public opinion especially since these events only managed to infuriate the people and the protesters. Instead, like a guilty party, the government points fingers randomly at no one in specific and makes very general accusations to everyone but itself. The fact that businessmen were not allowed to leave, and their accounts frozen, is a publicity stunt and none of them will be prosecuted. The idea is to give the impression that an investigation is being launched without actually conducting one. The same is true for all the arrests claimed, where the charges are never made public.

Notice how both Ahmed Shafik and Omar Suliman claim that all guilty parties will be brought to trial with no indication as to who the guilty parties are. In the end, they will most likely pin everything on the Muslim Brotherhood after investigations.

When Vice President Omar Suliman was asked if the police had done any wrong, he denied that they had. He said they did a wonderful job. But the real problem is that police used excessive violence during the protests and had been given a signal to retreat simultaneously from all positions at the same time in various cities. If he were not aware, he would have been quick to point fingers at least somewhere within the Ministry of Interior. The question you must ask yourself is, what would Omar Suliman do differently if the regime was in fact the culprit? My answer is nothing, his statements reeked of guilt.

On Wednesday, thugs hiding within pro Mubarak protests attacked the pro democracy protesters. Not only did they use knives and Molotov cocktails, they also sent in horses and camels and used live ammunition at the break of dawn. If you notice that on this particular day, Ahmed Shafik did not appear on television nor did he call shows to issue statements. This comes in stark contrast to the previous day where he appeared on several programs and the day after where he called many. This absence of comment is an implication of knowledge, firstly because I’m sure the prime minister watches Al Jazeera and secondly because camels and horses in Tahrir square are hard to miss if you’re following the situation closely. The fact that live fire from an automatic weapon was fired just before dawn waking up residents of Zamalek is just an overkill. Al Dostour writes that Ahmed Shafik considered handing in his resignation due to his disapproval of these tactics.

There is a new Minister of Interior now, and yet the police seem to be absent. All we have left are thugs that are systematically cracking down on international journalists and kidnapping activists and bloggers.

One of the prominent media personnel, Emad Eldin Adeeb, is spreading the idea that there’s a conspiracy against Mubarak. Mr. Adeeb analyses everything correctly, about how people feel, the Muslim Brotherhood, the youth, but fails to identify with equal accuracy who the traitor is within the system. He has accusations but the aim is to shift the focus on everyone other than Mubarak and his regime. Also note that when he says there is foreign involvement, he uses it very loosely without identifying what the foreign elements are, he only claims they exist. If he were really trying to warn youth about a certain danger, he would identify those elements clearly, but the ambiguity of such accusations make them baseless.

There are a few other questions. Why was the internet restored on the same day these violent attacks took place? The plan was to drive the protesters out of Tahrir square and spread news of pro Mubarak protests taking over. However camels and horses did not manage to implement the plan, and neither did Molotov cocktails nor live ammunition. The resilience of the protesters of Tahrir in the face of death was not something the regime counted on.

Why don’t these protesters go home so that normal life resumes? The protesters never caused banks to close. It was the absence of police and their organized militia and the shutting down of internet and a decision from the top. The protesters are in no way linked to the siege on the major cities in Egypt. This is a collective punishment for asking for our rights.

I can assure those hesitant about what’s happening that there is no internal strife in the government, they are only trying to use psychological warfare through unfounded theories, conflicting actions and media games. We all know who knows how to play these media games, and it’s obvious they don’t want Mubarak to leave.

When Words Have No Place

I’m asked often how I feel about what’s going on in my country. I’m asked for news while I follow the news on Al Jazeera, twitter, friends from the scene or what have you. I haven’t found the right words to describe how I feel today, perhaps because it is a mixture of emotion and grief. It’s sad to belong to a group of people betrayed by everyone around them. An army chooses to stand idle as civilians it is sworn to protect are killed by a police that were sworn to protect. The words cannot express my rage at this injustice that we face, betrayed everywhere from all sides, except the people of other nations. Together we stand in solitude against the oppression of our governments and their quest for power.

What can I say, when words have no place. I am shocked at the amount of evil we’re faced with. At dark times like these how can one believe that the power of goodness can overcome these dark forces. The people protesting are not angels, they are human beings who might have taken bribes, or broken the law. But they are showing goodness beyond the capacity of human beings. Those people brought up in the most dire conditions, where you take what you need by force have embraced an idea based on faith not logic, that these protests will be peaceful. They did not take up arms, or weapons or make Molotov cocktails to prepare for their protests. They went unarmed in open space against the oppressive of governments with the sole faith that goodness shall prevail, that they must adhere to peaceful protests and not throw the first stone.

How did these people, lacking education, lacking the experience of right prevailing, overcome their past experiences and decide to protest peacefully for a change such as this.

The Egyptian people would make any nation proud. They have stood up for their rights in the most admirable way imaginable. The atrocities of this regime are the worst and anything change will bring will be better. A wounded beast hanging on to dear life, taking down everything around, destructive and sinister. For the regime, they are slaves, to be herded, intimidated and killed.

The country is in ruins as we speak, and those who rule it are determined to destroy it before they leave. They would rather burn it all than give any of its citizens a piece of it.