Egyptian escapades pt. 2

Patrick O’Hare is Association President and an understand writer and is in Egypt to find out about the Revolution and establish links between Egyptian and St Andrews students

Election day in Sharm: an anti-climax. What else could have been expected aside from queues of voters, ink stained fingers and vans of police and army security, I am unsure. It turns out the city has a voting population several times smaller than its working population, given that the thousands of men who come to work the season here are mostly registered in Greater Cairo, where their families live. Several hours of hanging around and snapping away outside of the polling stations was enough for me, before I aroused the suspicions of the army, who were otherwise suffering a deafeningly boring shift.

Preliminary results in that region were as predicted, a majority for the Muslim Brotherhood, as in the rest of the country, and second place for the liberal coalition who positioned themselves as protectors of the tourist industry in the face of Salafist (hardline Islamist) threats to prohibit alcohol and mixed bathing. The trouble has been reserved for the following days, as Bedouin tribemen declared themselves unhappy with the results of the elections in two seats, where they assured the media that all tribesmen had promised to vote for the tribal leader, and were therefore baffled when they failed to win their seats. Not content with the appeals process it seems, the Bedouin decided to take matters into their own hands, taking up arms, storming a courthouse, and blockading the road from Sharm to Cairo. Whilst protestors in Tahrir were facing police with stones back in January, the Bedouin were taking on the army with RPGs.

Revolution is a contested term: is it an event, or a process? Is it over in Egypt? If so, has it been won or lost? For the socialists of Tahrir, will the revolution only be successful with the overthrow of capitalism? For the Islamists, is it only over with some form of Islamic state and Shari’ia? Do some feel that the overthrow of Mubarak is sufficient? Would others be happy with the handover of power from the military junta (SCAF) who are now in ‘temporary’ power, to the newly elected parliament? Cairo comes with many questions, and the children of Tahrir are grappling to find some answers.

It is into my second day in Cairo when I find out about a Tweet-Nadwa (meeting) happening round the corner from my street in downtown Cairo, just blocks away from Tahrir Square, the centre of 2011’s most famous revolution. Meet outside the Saudi Arabian airlines building, I am told by the twittersphere. I am met with a large outdoor screen and a small crowd; videos are shown which juxtapose the hollow words of the ruling army generals and the images, now infamous around the world, of the army shooting at and attacking demonstrators (including the ‘girl in the blue bra’) in the recent clashes around Mohammed Mahmoud street.

After the videos, several speakers take to the floor, including Alaa Abdel-Fattah, a well-known anarchist from a family of human rights activists who has recently been released after several months held by the military. The meeting is then opened to the floor, with each speaker given a couple of minutes; agreement is voiced through…consensus jazz hands! The main points of discussion concerns the demands of the struggle at this present time, and how more Egyptians might be won to the cause. There is widespread agreement that the main demand for the 25th of January demonstration, which will mark the anniversary of the Revolution, should be for the end to military rule and for the head of state to pass from General Tantawii, leader of the SCAF and Mubarak’s former Defense Minister, to the speaker of the house of the newly elected parliament.

There are only a hundred or so present at the Nadwa: overwhelmingly young, overwhelmingly from the higher social classes, partly reflecting the mode of organisation, Twitter, which is restricted to a small, but significant, part of society. The image is surreal, with protestors tweeting furiously on their i-pads and Blackberrys; a Twitter conversation held on #Tweetnadwa and involving those at home is projected onto the big screen and runs parallel to the discussion being held viva voce. The low numbers partly reflect that many organisations are putting all their energies into building for the 25th January demonstration, which promises to be huge. Yet it is undoubtedly clear that the number involved in meetings and demonstations has steadily decreased throughout the year, providing a challenge for activists on how to keep the masses involved. Part of the problem, of course, is that there is not one revolutionary organisation that people can join; instead, the movement is splintered into different groups.

The Tweet Nadwa is transformed into a march to the Journalists’ Syndicate, a popular rallying point for dissidents, even in the Mubarak era. Slogans from the crowd include, “Down, down, down with military rule”, “ Freedom (Huraya)”, those involving General Tantawi, and “Bread, liberty and social justice”. Passers-by swell the march to several hundred, and we take the road. Elsewhere, gatherings like this can be broken up by the police, military and pro-government thugs, but things are different here. Downtown Cairo, for now at least, belongs to those demanding Huraya.

Midan Tahrir (Tahrir Square) itself is no longer a permanent stronghold of the revolutionaries. The few who maintain a camp within it are described as a mix of street vendors and paid thugs.  Mohammed Mahmoud and surrounding streets, the scene of recent clashes, are partially blocked off with temporary walls, behind which sit the army and police. The hollow wrecks of burnt out buildings such as the headquarters of Mubarak’s National Democratic Party (NDP) are a reminder of the white-hot heat of headier days. In the minds of the millions who participated in the Revolution, a restless energy still permeates the square, a tension, but also a sense of ownership. The Metro is no longer purely a bustling means of transport, but is where Mubarak’s soldiers were held in a makeshift ‘people’s prison’ during the clashes; ‘Harrys’ restaurant is where protestors were allowed to charge their phones during their stay, even the owner of KFC was a revolutionary supporter who allowed people in to use the bathrooms! Move over Colonel Gaddafi, now even the Colonel of Zinger Burger fame is sympathetic to the revolution! Groups of activists have different corners of the square where they would gather, friendships were made around a certain railing, bonds of comradeship built in alleyways.

Darker stories also emerge from friends, of the places where they were held and tortured, where they were shot, where they saw martyrs fall. But not only shadows and ghosts inhabit the square; it is sure to come alive again on the 25th and there are glimpses of its revolutionary spirit. The families of the martyrs who gather to demonstrate after Friday prayers, holding pictures of their loved ones and then fearlessly challenging police and army as they march around the city centre. One evening, I stumble upon improvised comedy and music which attracts the laughter of passers-by. The Palestinian flag is raised as we are joined by Palestinian musicians and writer, recently arrive from Gaza. Later, I approach the band and, with Kuffiyeh and Mahmoud Darwish in hand, am welcomed along to the a’hwa with open arms. Strangers become close friends, as we joyfully wander from cafe to cafe, talking politics and playing music well into the night, fuelled by chai, cafe and sahlab.

Finally, at 7am, it is time to bid the the Gazans an emotional goodbye as they continue on their road to Tunez, fading notes of the Oud following their steps. The troubadours tell me that they want to safeguard comedy as part of the Revolution, that laughter in the face of the oppressor can also be a weapon. With bullets and tear gas they thought they could kill the revolution, I am told, but they only succeeded in killing the fear in Egypt’s young revolutionaries.

Written by Patrick O’Hare, understand writer