The Battle of Abbaseya

Something about this protest in particular reminds me of the protest against the murder of Khaled Said last year. The protest that objected to the brutality and impunity of Egyptian police was met with brutality. The message was clear, we can do whatever we want. In essence the protest of 23rd of July was similar. We went out to protest against the SCAF’s lies and dirty tactics and we were met with lies and dirty tactics.

The march started to Abbaseya a little after four in order protest in front of the Ministry of Defense. The weather had become more bearable and became much cooler along the way. What started out as a thousand protesters quickly grew to a little over three thousand as we marched on. The march was reminiscent of 28 January, and we called on to people to join us. This time it was different. Some people supported the march and others did not. The further we went from Tahrir, the more the people’s aggression towards us became palpable.

We arrived to the end of our road, blocked off by the military at the Mosque just before the bridge that takes you to Salah Salem road. It started out well, we were chanting against the SCAF and we were expressing our disappointment in a ruling council that had betrayed the people. Ten minutes had passed when the first clashes erupted from a side street near where the army troops were standing. The exchange of stone throwing commenced and from then on it was a disaster.

The military, being chanted against was happy to see rocks and glass flying at protesters from all sides. The protesters tried to escape but the stone throwing would not stop. The protesters fought back, but all too feebly. As time progressed they fought some more, but all exists were blocked either by the military or by men armed with rocks, Molotov cocktails and swords.

The military fired rounds in the air, but there was nowhere to escape to. The protesters were stuck between the military and hostile men who would not stop their aggression. As time passed by, there was shotgun fire, but the injuries from all the stone throwing were numerous. Every minute a protester was rushed in to the faculty of medicine close to fighting area.

It was difficult to find a spot where rocks were not being thrown. They came from all sides. They came from the top of the buildings along with Molotov cocktails all across the thin strip where protesters resided. They were hard to avoid and there was a consistent sense of danger.

The mosque was locked and would not let protesters in. There were army personnel inside the mosque. The protesters broke down the iron gate of the mosque that kept the protesters cordoned and created an exit.

At long last the Central Security Forces (CSF) appeared from behind the Molotov throwing aggressors and fired their long range tear gas canisters, upon which numerous protesters rushed out through the safe exit through the mosque gates into a safer street at the back.

On the way back, residents were accusing protesters of being spies and one of the bloggers Amr Gharbeya was kidnapped. He was accused of being part of the 6 of April movement which has been dubbed an enemy by the SCAF.

This is a brief recap of the events but they don’t do it any justice. In fact, there was no justice on that day. The protesters were trapped and the army and the violent antagonists were prepared for such a confrontation. The SCAF had already prepared the scapegoat, the 6 of April movement. People in the neighborhood were deluded into thinking the protesters aimed to burn down the Ministry of Defense.

There was so much blood. There were scores of protesters being rushed out of the battle front in order to get treatment with mostly bleeding heads. The people throwing rocks back were defending everyone else against a gruesome attack. The military stood idly, proud that the plan had worked. Protesters were no longer concerned with getting to the Ministry of Defense, they were concerned with their own survival. We walked through protesters with many injuries, but with even more determination. There was tension in the air, and a sadness that so much violence would occur for no reason.

It’s a hard truth to swallow that the army is currently betraying the people. No one is convinced. The Muslim Brotherhood are happy to condone injustice as long as their elections are not touched. The couch party does not care if we achieve stability through colonization. The rest of the regime are happy to spread lies so that they continue to thrive. Most people are too lazy to think. They don’t even ask themselves the expected questions. Why would the army not stop violence? Why was there nothing thrown at the army? Why did the army trap the people and not let them escape? But no, these questions are too much of an effort for most.

One of these days the foolish lazy people who do not even apply logic to the insanely naïve statements given by the SCAF will realize that they handed their lives and their dignity to an oppressor on a silver plate.

Those who went out in the first 18 days and do not understand what is going on today have forgotten why we went out in the first place. It was never about elections, we've always had elections. It was never about government, we've always had a government. It was about dignity, and we never had dignity. We still don't and that's why giving us all else but that will not console us.

We are the People

The bravery, resilience, valor and persistence expressed by people all over Egypt to fight injustice brings the cynic in me to his knees. The events around me have come to challenge my thoughts and perceptions ever so strongly.

We often times forget that those who shout out orders over their phones and their wireless radio and command people left and right are merely human. It is only chance that gave them the power they have over others. We forgot the most important lesson of humanity, and that is that we’re all human. We need to belong to others like us. Often times we are blinded by the company we keep. It is dangerous to believe that the power we have comes from any form of superiority.

We are the people. The world was made for us. Countries were made for us. We have to ensure that we could all enjoy this world.

I look at old people and I’m haunted by a recurring thought. Could they have been somebody else? I look at an old man, who can barely make a living, toiling all day for a few pennies. He could have been somebody, you know. He could have been a manager in a big firm. He could have been an army general. He could have been a successful doctor, lawyer or an engineer. But fate has led him to where he is at today, and not necessarily because he is incompetent or unintelligent, but because the world we live in does not offer us that many chances.

I look at other old men in power; some of them important because they possess wisdom and others because they have had an opportunity to be in a position of power. Do they not think of themselves when they see other men who toil all day? Do they not think that it could have been them?

The world is hard enough as it is without an oppressive government that butchers the few chances that a good life may offer. I’m not calling for all people to be important. I’m not calling for everyone to be successful. I’m just calling for a chance for everyone to know what they’re made of, to be all they can be. Is that too much to ask?

We sometimes forget that men shouting orders are just men. They’re humans who have been given an opportunity to rule over others. The military governing Egypt at this time didn't get power over people through their intelligence, or competence or even by exercising force. They tried to shoot us, but it didn’t work. The military got their power by lying. Who are they to change the lives of millions? Is that worthy of any respect? Not to me. They are just people. I did not choose them to be my masters. They were afraid of us, and in order to overcome their fear, they decided to rule us.

I always wondered, what gives a man the right to take away another's life. Who are you to sentence someone innocent to 15 years in prison and completely destroy his life without a fair trial? Who are you to ruin those numerous seconds, hours and days where that person could have made a good life.The people sentenced to prison aren't a menace to society, those sentencing them are.

The main reason I want those false rulers out is because I’m fighting for a chance that I think most of us deserve. I’m fighting not for a better life for each of us, but for a chance of a better life. I’m fighting so that each of us gets that chance to be all they can be.

Now if you choose to do nothing, it’s your choice. If nothing is achieved at all, it should be our choice. But a few non select humans should not be in charge of decimating our hopes and dreams.

We’ve been in these chains for so long, that many feel as if they were part of their clothing. They believe that we should obey those who have cheated us out of our God given rights. Power is given to tyrants by people who accept the status quo. We need to remember that it’s not about them, it’s about us. They should join our ranks, we shouldn’t shrivel because of theirs. We are the people and it’s our right to demand a chance of a better life. It’s our children’s right to come into a world that fights for their chance to be all they can be. We are the people and we have to choose who we give the power to. Not liars, not thieves and not men in uniform who think they can scold us because they’re wiser.

The world is not idealistic, and we may win or lose this fight. I won’t pretend I have the answers, but I know one thing: we’ve been given a chance right here and right now to be all we can be. We can choose to make a difference. We can choose to use that chance. For the first time in ages we’ve been given this opportunity and it seems so unreal. It isn’t though, it’s a real as gets, the rest of life is what we’ve been conditioned to think. We are the people and even though we’ve always deserved this opportunity, we’ve had to work so hard to get it. We are the people and we deserve so much more than we’ve been given. We are the people and we’ve been given a chance. We can choose now to grow old and senile, or we can choose to grow old and wise.

Inside Story - Egypt: democracy in danger?

July 8 was more than just another protest. It was a message from the Egyptian people to the ruling military council that the old ways don't work anymore. This is my interview with Aljazeera English on inside story where I've tried to express the state of affairs at the time.

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.

The More Things Change

It’s back again with all the violence, injustice and misinformation. One has to wonder, was it ever gone? The beast lay dormant in its cave waiting for the wounds to heal and now it strikes again.

Everything’s the same.

The events of yesterday prove beyond a doubt that we’re back to where we started. The families of martyrs are being punished for demanding justice. In this country we live in, there can be no justice and to demand it is close to blasphemous. Military personnel are infuriated by the word because they simply don’t believe in it. The police forces are crazed with madness when it is demanded because they are incapable of providing it. All the regime knows how to do is violence, and they’re doing it again.

What started out as hundreds of protesters turned into thousands as hundreds of people and activists rushed to the square. The scene was reminiscent of the night of 25 January when police forces violently evacuated the square. Going through to morning it is more reminiscent of 28 of January as police insists on clashing with protesters and using violence against them.

New tear gas canisters freshly imported from the US have been used this time. They’re smaller, not expired and with a very long range. It seems hypocritical of the US to reprimand violence against protesters and yet continue to supply the corrupt regime with ways to subdue them. You can tell from Obama’s face during his speech that he was sad at the loss of an ally like Mubarak, despite his well chosen words.

Everything’s the same.

The media is back to its dirty tricks. Lies are propagated by the Prime Minister and the Minister of Interior. The police are hiring thugs to do their dirty work.

There were thugs in the square as the media claimed, but they were dressed in police uniform. The faces are of those who were in the revolution and I know for certain that I felt no danger from them. The real danger came from the police who do not show any signs of change.

The military try to play good cop, but it’s getting too old. Good cop, bad cop won’t work if you show no signs of fairness and if your actions don’t match your words.

People were attacked and abused and battered but they remained resilient. That is the one difference between last night and the night of Jan 25 is that people stood their ground. The fear had gone.

I guess I was wrong earlier, not everything’s the same. People have changed.

#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.

Mubarak's Army

The Military Council had no choice but to save its skin and pretend to be with the revolution. Any order to shoot the protesters at a time when right and wrong were so obvious in Tahrir square would have meant the end of all the benefits the military Generals were reaping. The army of Egyptians would have been split. Some would have been loyal to the Generals and some loyal to the people. In any case it would have meant the disruption of the wealthy lives of the military commanders.

We kept shouting a lie, hoping it becomes true, that the army and the people are one. They never were. The army was controlled by the SCAF and they extended their control to the minds of most Egyptians who cannot accept the reality we're faced with. It's still the game of security, that the country will collapse without the SCAF and yet it is the collapse of this nation that has risen up that they wish to achieve.

Some things have changed, the people have become more aware and more political, but our rulers have become more ruthless and intolerant. The SCAF now intimidates freedom more than the past regime. No media is allowed to speak ill of them, remind you of something? They kidnap, torture and unjustly try innocent people who have no chance of defending themselves, remind you of anything? They make promises they never keep and fill our television stations with propaganda, remind you of something?

If you're not reminded of dictatorship and tyranny, then you're blind. It's not that you're blind really, but you're closing your eyes and you do not want to see the truth of it. Today an Egyptian is defined by his defiance of injustice and if you do not want to see injustice, then you're not Egyptian. This is not the definition that hundreds upon hundreds of martyrs died for. We are rewriting this definition to stand for justice and you will not be part of of it if you close your eyes.

The evidence is out there, and clear as day light. All you need to do is open your eyes to see it. Don't rely on your hearing to detect light. Don't ask these questions like 'where is the evidence? I can't hear it'. You cannot hear light, and you cannot see sound.

We are at a crossroads. We have been resurrected after decades of death. We knew our enemy and we now know how to fight the enemy. The same enemy comes in a different uniform. We must, not only open our eyes, but raise our shields and sharpen our swords. Our enemy is tyranny and injustice, it always has been. If we cannot tell the truth, then this resurrected body will die once more, and this time we will be the murderers.

Wearing a uniform is not a good enough excuse for men to inflict injustice upon other men.

Darkness of the Mind

Ignorance is a lot like darkness. It deprives us of our vision and everything we do under its influence will be an approximation of what we set out to do. We may walk and stumble and break, but it’s only after the light fills the space once more that we actually see what we’ve done, but more importantly what damage we’ve caused.

This darkness is sweeping. It is difficult to illuminate, for this darkness exists in the minds of certain people, the entrances of which have been blocked. It is difficult to access this darkness and give it light, and for that reason, what they do will cause damage.

This ignorance is the reason why sectarian clashes are at their height and why religion will continue to be a tool to manipulate people. The case of ignorance here is simple, ignorance of the other. This darkness hovers over many Muslims. They are unaware of who their Christian counterparts are, or what churches or monasteries are like, or what prayers are like. This applies not only to extremists but to moderate Muslims. The moderates, even when they do not believe in violence, will not understand that churches do not store weapons, that monasteries do not torture people. They do not have the necessary information to make these logical deductions, like monasteries do not have the man power or the time to torture anyone, or that we’ve never heard of a church fire on anyone despite the tumultuous times we’re living in.

The facts are simple and yet so unknown. The minds of the weak can be filled with any sort of object as long as there is darkness. We can fill a room with oak, mahogany, gold and gems as long as the room remains dark. We can fill the room with beasts, with swords, with weapons as long as the room remains dark. The answer is simple, light the room, but the ignorance is not as easily conquered by knowledge as darkness is by light. It may be that certain inhabitants choose to wear blindfolds, so that even when the room is lit, the blind remain blind.

We need to light the rooms and pull down the blindfolds, because there is no hope without our attempts to do so. The only weapon we may count on is the truth. We cannot play the political game of hiding the truth in order to protect, because there’s no one to protect from the truth. We are not in a position today to fight darkness with darkness. We cannot fight ignorance with ignorance.

It’s not enough for you to open your eyes today, you need to open other eyes, because in the words of Roger Waters, ‘each small candle lights a corner of the dark’.

There is too much darkness for us not to at least try and make a difference. Many have missed out on the chance to be part of a revolution which has brought us pride. It’s not too late to contribute, there are many battles to fight. Maybe spend an hour with those in Maspero, maybe talk to extremists and convince them of the truth, maybe talk to other moderates and ask them to know.

There must be something within us all to fight this darkness that has taken hold of many generations. There must be hope that those of us who care will speak out and make a difference. There must be a way to fight against the worst forms of darkness, the darkness of the mind.

In Search of Deeper Things

There are parts of me that I miss. I don’t know what they are or where they’re at right now, but I do miss these parts. I wonder if they’re asleep or dead. Does it really matter? It doesn’t matter if they come to life again because I take solace in the fact that they existed once upon a time. That’s the case with all of my love, I’ve learned to be grateful for it than to regret it not having lasted. I learned to embrace a lost love than to blame it. The moments in our lives that make us feel happy are so limited, so short and yet they are the ones we should hold on to. I do hold on to them. I feel that they are like the movie version of life, they are what we count our lives to be in the edited version.

Some pain brings joy at the end, and that pain is celebrated, and remembered. For all the pain is to a joyous end. The memories I have most trouble with are the good ones that are poisoned in the finale. It is extremely unsettling to find that great moments may be turned into bitter memories that would not leave us be. It is unsettling that the love which we hold most dear can turn into a lie, and that is the worst kind of memory, when all that was good about it turns out fake.

There are many parts of me that delve deeper than what the forefront of my thoughts can bring to comprehension. My understanding of them is limited, but my feeling is not. I miss these parts the most, that take me beyond where my own conscious deliberate thoughts can. They are like fine instruments that produce sounds that my voice cannot.

I’ve read a lot recently about the meaning of life, I’ve even read two books that speak about such a topic. The phrase is appealing to the parts of me that I miss, that ponder over this question long enough to dive into its depths. I do not think I feel an urge to consider that life is meaningless, it is not. The words I write to myself give it meaning.

Much of what happens around me brings about contemplation, but it seems that it takes much for events to seep through. I was asked before if I would give up my idle abstract wonderings that I seem to be addicted to, and I answered that I would. It all seems so meaningless really, but it’s how I’m built. I feel that my thoughts are a response to this irrational need of finding deeper things even though their existence may be fictitious.

The Strategy Shift

If there is a time to shift strategies for the army it would be now. Last Friday proved to the army how determined the people to see justice served. They were ready to go out every Friday and perhaps even sleep in the square formerly known as Tahrir Republic. The protests were due to the slow pace of justice that had not been served to those in charge of running the country into ruins. Many of the protests that took place after the stepping down of Mubarak was on account of the protection given to the remnants of the old regime by the army.

This protection had a cost which protesters in Tahrir paid on numerous days. The army allowed the protesters to pay it gladly when it dispersed them on 25 February and on 9 March. However, this act of itself helped only alienate people more from an army it was willing to embrace. The more time passed, the more the sense of injustice, not just because of the torture and arrests that went unpunished, but also these old grievances from the old guard who seemed to enjoy some kind of unexplainable impunity.

The protesters were not the only ones to pay the price, but the army reaped what it had sown. The revolutionary unrest spread within the ranks of the seemingly monolithic army. Army officers joined the Tahrir protests in uniform causing a great commotion on 8 April. Till now we are unsure whether those joining the protests were authentic officers in service or ex officers wearing the uniform. It didn’t matter much, because the chance that such a rift within the army’s ranks threatened the Supreme Military Council’s own existence. The army is the last standing organized institution with enough respect and enough arms to keep the country together. If some of the army were to revolt against leadership, it would mean the end of the Military Council at the very least and leave the country’s fate to unknown forces.

The military may have realized that the only way to end to the infectious revolutionary spirit that was about to infect the lower ranking officers was by giving the people what is rightfully theirs. In order to give them what is rightfully theirs, to bring NDP party members and the remnants of the old regime to justice. That also meant that they must lift the protection they had till then bestowed upon them.

In a way, the military council had to choose between its own existence and the remnants of the old regime. Perhaps this realization is the reason as to why there is a shift in strategy. Once the military had taken the decision to survive, all the remnants of the old regime had to be brought to justice.

If the army has truly realized that they cannot appease both the remnants of the old regime and the people, it would mean a shift in strategy and more decisions that make sense. The army will also try its best to erase any wrongdoings done in order to protect the corrupt. It is unlikely that the army will release the detainees however any time soon, as releasing this great number with their stories will risk more protests in Tahrir that they are finding increasingly hard to clear.

It is unclear as yet if this is the route taken by the army, or if there is something else behind the actions that have struck us with joy but have not removed all suspicion. Now is the time to wait and understand whether the measures are sincere. One thing has been proven so far, that people willing to leave their homes and take to the streets, will not be fooled.

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.