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.

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.

I'm Voting No

I’m not out to convince anyone. It’s a little late for that. I’m not going to even try and express any logic because others have done so convincingly enough over the past few days. I’m just keeping track of how I feel.

An image saying 'No to constitutional changes' which I've come to like.

I’m voting ‘No’ because I don’t like the changes. I don’t like the plan, I don’t like the army and I don’t like the manner in which all of this was handled. The changes themselves are measly and I will never sign a document that accepts changes to this old broken down contract called the constitution. I don’t care if you’re going to draw up a new one after this. The word ‘change’, that old rotten constitution with the same crappy numbers associated and the same old articles are too disheartening.

It’s been made very clear to us that ‘Yes’ is the right answer. It’s been made clear through the media, by direct advertisement, by false information and most of all by telling us what happens next when we vote ‘Yes’. The other scenario has been kept as a mystery. We don’t know what will happen if we vote ‘No’ just like we didn’t know what would happen when Mubarak steps down, just like we didn’t know who would be appointed if Shafik steps down, just like we don’t know anything about the country’s finances.

Fear of the unknown has kept us enslaved and it seems that for many, instinct still drives them away from the unknown. In almost every fork in the road during this revolution, the unknown has led us to gains, although not always better places.

I’m voting no, knowing full well the arguments of stability, economy and time, and all of these other things that have no factual basis. We are being driven towards fear for no good reason. No one knows what tomorrow brings, not even those who are inciting these fears.

I’m voting no because I don’t trust what’s to come next. I don’t trust the candidates that will try and be elected once more and I don’t trust them to pick the people who will create the constitution for generations to come. We’ve never been given what we wanted, so why are we expecting it now?

There is one question as to why someone should vote yes or no. It’s a question of trust. Do I trust the decision makers to give me what I want without pressuring them into it or not? My answer is no, and that’s why I’m voting no. These changes aren’t enough. We are voting on who writes the constitution and who is not to be president. I don’t think that whichever parliament comes next will be honest enough to write the constitution (or pick those who write it) and I don’t think a president who comes without one is equipped to provide and approve it.

I don’t trust people, but that’s how I’ve always been. I don’t trust our media, they will never show good candidates and they haven’t changed since the revolution started. Alternative media is in an all out war with mainstream media. Truth does prevail, but it takes a bit of time even with Facebook and Twitter.

I don’t trust the army because if they had good intentions, the law allowing political parties to form would have been activated ever since they took power. Everything is done slowly and reluctantly and I doubt that any ruler gives people freedom if they don’t demand it.

On a very personal note, I cannot vote ‘yes’ while those abroad are not given an opportunity to have a say in their nation’s fate. I know that many want to vote no. More than that, I cannot vote ‘yes’ with a clear conscience while thousands of revolutionaries and heroes are missing, locked up in military prisons after being tortured by our so-called defenders. They have been deprived of their vote; of their voice and of their chance to be a part of the decision. It may seem slightly out of place to think of their vote in this referendum considering how much torture they’ve endured and their unsealed fate, but to me it this is what they are fighting for. This is exactly what they should be doing if we were truly living in a democracy. I feel a sort of treason validating a plan by an army that is torturing young men and women who made us proud as we speak. They are the ones who have put their lives on the line for us to get a chance to vote and they are the ones that should be deciding. I feel they’ve earned it, while we, from the comfort of our seats have not.

I have plenty of valid logical reasons to vote no, but they don’t seem to matter much. Reasons can be countered with facts and lies. The real reason that’s left is that it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel right to have my name signed on changes to a document that has claimed the lives and livelihoods of many. I will not tell my children that I ever agreed to such horrible terms of slavery even for a day. I myself have often blamed previous generations for not standing up for what’s wrong. I see no reason to play politics and sign something I will never be able to explain to any generation to come.

I value my signature. I will not associate my name with this venomous constitution while I have a choice. I will not be complicit in signing these horrible terms even for a day and even if it’s symbolic. I’m aware that the argument for ‘yes’ is that this dreaded constitution won’t come back to life, but that’s not what the paper I’m signing is going to say. I will read the paper I’m signing and if it says constitutional changes or if it mentions the articles by their same old rotten numbers, I will most certainly vote no.

I’m voting no because I can afford to. I can afford to object to something inadequate and I can afford to aspire to idealism. I appreciate the freedom I have. It is not the one granted to me by these temporary rulers, but one that I have from within. I have an obligation to my values rather than to my fears. For the first time Egyptians have the chance to have their signature mean something. To read a document, to understand that the words mean and to make a decision that will change their lives and the lives of others.

I’m not playing politics. The truth is that I don’t need to. I don’t need to vote as though I’m leading anyone, I don’t need to vote as if my vote seals Egypt’s fate. I’m trying to answer the question at hand as best I could. Sometimes we just really need to read the question.

I’m not pretending to know what’s best for the country, I’m not playing leader, I’m not trying to be smart. I’m only trying to do what I feel is right, to answer the real question at hand.

I’m voting no.

For the State of Denial, I Recommend a Shrink

"Denial is a defense mechanism postulated by Sigmund Freud, in which a person is faced with a fact that is too uncomfortable to accept and rejects it instead, insisting that it is not true despite what may be overwhelming evidence."

~Wikipedia

The naivety of those standing up for the army is infuriating. I know such words may be offensive to some, but ignorance is offensive to me. I’m not talking about ignorance of the facts, no one knows everything. I mean ignorance of how to interpret these facts.

Photo: Singer Ramy Essam's tortured back (distorted)

Why is it that Egyptians are so adamant about protecting the army? The facts don’t indicate the army’s loyalty is towards people. Are we expected to simply applaud the army for not wiping out innocent civilians? That’s all they did really. You may say it’s a big thing, but they had no choice in the matter. They do not believe in our cause. Following that order would have meant the collapse of the country but more importantly of the army itself. It is unlikely that soldiers would have been able to carry out orders like these especially when the demands were undisputedly just. Soldiers are not trained to murder unarmed civilians of another nation, much less their countrymen. Is it really worth saluting someone for not being a cold blooded murderer? Or were our expectations of them so low?

The real test was when the army took over. But what did the army do when it took over? They only promised to uphold Mubarak’s promises. What else did they do? Nothing. Lots of propaganda and nothing more. They allowed some of those who were corrupt to be tried, but they were scapegoats rather than a real quest for justice. The army, in fact, is building a shameful history of protecting many of the corrupt figures. They have not been a force to realize the demands of the revolution, if anything, they insist on hindering them every day. In short, they’ve assumed dictatorship.

Dictatorship can only be allowed temporarily if only to fulfill our demands and give us our rights. So far, none of that that has happened. On the contrary, the army protected thugs, allowed the shooting of Christian protesters, unlawfully arrested citizens, artists, journalists and human rights observers. It practiced torture that we set out to abolish and generally exercised a great deal of injustice.

I can back up every accusation, but it doesn’t matter because there’s a psychological impediment to people believing the most compelling of evidence. To believe that the army is an oppressive tyrant would be a pathway to hopelessness. There are a few reasons that the army presents obstacles that seem too monumental to overcome. One is that the army is powerful. Even though people have taken down one tyrant, the police, they feel that it would be difficult to take on the army in a similar manner. (I’m not saying that we should.) The other reason is that it would be psychologically catastrophic to realize that no institution in Egypt upholds justice.

Even the classist rich elite need that sense of justice. They would sooner believe that asking for what’s yours is illegal than believe that it’s your right and you will be punished for it.

There are three types of coping mechanisms:

Simple denial: not believing that anything actually happened.

Minimization: admitting the fact but not its seriousness through rationalization.

Projection: admitting the fact and its seriousness but not the responsibility.

The body of evidence is overwhelming, but I’ve seen all the various forms of coping, especially rationalization amidst the educated. These reasons make it futile to convince those in denial of the army’s actions. According to Anna Freud, denial is a mechanism of the immature mind, because it conflicts with the ability to learn from and cope with reality.

Personally, I recommend a shrink.

The Bridge on the River Nile

I went out tonight, not just to determine why Copts are protesting in the streets, but mostly why the protesters insisted on stopping traffic on the vital 6th of October bridge.

I left home on a bicycle and made my way through the strangely diverted traffic. When I got to the top of the bridge I saw a very empty 6th of October bridge, with a few cars parked on the side and in the middle of the road. No cars were allowed to pass by a group of young men who took ownership of the bridge. Further along down the bridge I could see thousands of protesters just outside Maspero, the television building. They had their volunteers set up searching anyone who enters the protest site and looking at their IDs ala Tahrir republic.

I must confess that at the time I could not see with clarity how the protesters were thinking. With Tahrir, it was always easy. We all knew what needed to be done and I am able to answer the questions put forth by the Kanaba (couch) party as to what was needed. With these protests, I needed to gauge the mood. Unlike some of the Kanaba party who insist on getting things wrong just because they don’t understand protesters’ motivations and thinking, I went ahead and did something unthinkable; I tried to understand.

I asked one of the protesters, vigilantly set on not letting any car through, as to the purpose of his actions. He answered with an air of impatience, obviously having had to answer that same question over and over again. I made it clear to him that I understood all of his concerns and agreed with his goals but was merely concerned with the technique. He answered a little more patiently and explained the situation.

A church in a small village called Soul in the governorate of Helwan was attacked and demolished. Furthermore, a great majority of Christians were kicked out of their village and threatened. Those who tore down the church claimed it as a mosque and accused the church of practicing magic.

As I talked to the young Mena, he explained that people there were unsafe, that they can’t protect their women and can’t protect themselves.

Why not just stay outside Maspero, why stop traffic?

He said that they were outside Maspero for three days and nothing happened, nothing changed, no one heard them. “I’m the first person against doing something like this, but we have no choice, we need to do this to have our voices heard. We’re doing this for all Copts so that they can feel safe in their homes.”

“My friends are surprised that I’m doing this because I’m usually very calm. But now I’ve had enough.”

He added, “My father came driving on the bridge and I would not allow any exceptions. I told him to park the car and wouldn’t let him through.”

For over thirty years Copts have tried to be heard. Today it seems there is a lot of listening going on and it may be an opportune moment. I doubt that they’re abusing the situation, for it was the Copts who started the most effective protests near Maspero and Shubra after the bombing of the Saints Church earlier this year that gave us a hint that 25 Jan was possible.

It’s easy to be judgmental and claim that this sort of action should be condemned, but the young man spoke with so much conviction. He held that bridge as if letting one car through was the complete destruction of his cause. They young men managed to let some ambulances and private cars through depending on the urgency. As we were speaking, a group of young Muslim men came to talk to the protesters on the bridge, telling them they were watching television and that they understood what was happening and that real Muslims would not have done this. It was a great moment of understanding but also filled with so much rage and confusion.

It’s difficult to fathom that their voice has been heard. Decades have passed with the voice of Coptic Christians silenced either by ignoring their cause or asking them to stop because there really are no problems. I came out understanding their desperation, and the urgency of their cause. They were attempting something extreme in order to fight the extreme. I would not say I approve of the method, but I don’t have any method of my own that I’m sure would work. I left the bridge hoping that their voices would be heard and that everyone would be able to cross from one side to the other.