“Broken Bones, Not Spirit” — Seeing “The Savior” in Fall of Egyptian Regime?

By Michael Shaw

 

In the early days and fragile state of the post-Murabak revolution, here’s something we’ve really got to keep an eye on.

On Friday morning in the West, after Mubark stepped down and the worldwide excitement was fever-pitch over the victory of the Egyptian democracy protesters, this uncredited image — originally posted by Al Jazerra in this Egypt live blog — was re-posted and tweeted by several not-insignificant U.S. bloggers and media names. The motivation for plugging the photo, in the snippets that accompanied it, alluded to its iconic quality combined with the homage paid to the spirit of those Arab youth courageously seeking a new Egypt.  In most instances where I saw it, the title of the link doubled as a caption: “Broken bones, not spirit.”

I’m not an art historian or a even a Middle East historian so I can’t speak to the classical quality and references of the image. (Maybe some of you can.) The way the lights in the buildings shine like stars in the sky, however, combined with the near-silhouette of the palm tree, the man spreading the blanket like a tent, and also the way the photo accentuates the robe-like folds in the person’s shirt far left, the image seems to evoke the desert and a biblical frame, and the wanderer/seeker as much or more than it says anything about modern, urban, downtown Cairo.  Add to that the etherial light emanating from behind this man’s left shoulder, as well as the dramatic quality (is it day? is it night?) of the light on this chest and face, and the photo feels near mystical. Combine all these elements with the eyes cast skyward and the hand reaching up in an almost spiritual gesture and this young man is nearly deified. (If you’re thinking the image is too celestial or near-religious to be true, I was also thinking about some photoshopping going on here.)

Here’s what concerns me, however. If the image of Allah is never to be shown, the religious pull starts to feel decidedly Christian. Just close your eyes for a second, put long brown hair and a beard on this young man, and tell me you don’t see Jesus?  Reinforcing that sense are other hand gestures, the man far left clasping his hands together before his face and especially the two fingers together on the main figure’s right hand strongly reminiscent of holy Christian gestures, including the sign of the cross or the judging Christ. Then, there is also a body of similar imagery of Jesus wandering in the desert.

Mostly though, I’m struck by the quick, strong and instinctive reaction to this laden photo at the very instant the Egyptian political clouds parted, the image speaking not just to an idealization of the events in Egypt, necessarily, but also as an inclination to recognize them through a more Christian lens.

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Note/Credit: As background on the picture itself,  the photo — according to the Al Jazeera link – was sent in by a journalism student @ghazalairshad from Tahrir Square. As best I can tell, Ghazala did not post the photo directly anywhere but did retweet someone else who linked to the photo.  I have written to Ghazala, a student at American University in Cairo, for more information on the photo.

Update:

Ghazala writes: “Shot by me during the evening prayer on February 5th in Tahrir Square.”/ “Believe me, if I had the time to Photoshop or Lightroom, I would have, but I just did a minor level adjustment in iPhoto & put it up on Facebook for the hundreds of worried friends & family back in the US to quiet them down for a bit.

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Ahdaf Soueif: Protesters reclaim the spirit of Egypt

Hosni Mubarak's resignation came after 18 days of protests in central Cairo

Egyptian novelist Ahdaf Soueif reflects on the determination of Egyptians, after the ousting of President Hosni Mubarak, to rebuild their country and reclaiming their national identity.

I have friends on anti-depressants who, over the last 20 days, forgot to take their pills and have now thrown them away. Such is the effect of the Egyptian Revolution.

On Friday night, Egypt partied. Chants and songs and drums and joy-cries rang out from Alexandria to Aswan. The defunct regime was only mentioned in reference to "we want our money back".

Otherwise, three chants were dominant - and very telling: One - "Lift your head up high, you're Egyptian" - was a response to how humiliated, how hopeless we'd been made to feel over the last four decades.

The second was: "We'll get married, We'll have kids," and reflected the hopes of the millions whose desperate need for jobs and homes had been driving them to risk their lives to illegally cross the sea to Europe or the desert to Libya.

The third chant was: "Everyone who loves Egypt, come and rebuild Egypt."

And on Saturday, they were as good as their word: they came and cleaned up after their revolution.

Volunteers who arrived on Tahrir [Square] after mid-day found it spick and span, and started cleaning up other streets instead. I saw kids perched on the great lions of Qasr el-Nil Bridge buffing them up.

I feel - and every parent will know what I mean - I feel that I need to keep my concentration trained on this baby, this newborn revolution - I need to hold it safe in my mind and my heart every second - until it grows and steadies a bit. Eighty million of us feel this way right now.

Eighty million at least - because the support we've been getting from the world has been phenomenal. There's been something different, something very special, about the quality of the attention the Egyptian revolution has attracted: it's been - personal.

People everywhere have taken what's been happening here personally. And they've let us know. And those direct, positive and emotional messages we've been receiving have put the wind in our sails.

We have a lot to learn very quickly. But we're working. And the people, everywhere, are with us.

Tuesday 8 February

In the week before the protesters achieved their goal, Ahdaf Soueif reflected on some of the humorous and poignant moments in Cairo's Tahrir Square.

What is happening on the streets and squares of Egypt is extraordinary; it's nothing less than millions of people re-finding their voice - and using it.

They're using it to demand the removal of Hosni Mubarak and his regime - with everything that that regime entails: the corrupt cabinet, the fraudulent parliament, the mutilated constitution and the brutal emergency laws.

And this common, over-arching demand is being given increasingly creative and individual expression.

The atmosphere on Tahrir Square is like - well, imagine a fair, where the product under scrutiny is politics, economics, governance, history and the law.

The demonstrators vowed to stay in Tahrir Square until Mr Mubarak stepped down

Circles of people sit on what's left of the grass to talk, friends stroll arm-in-arm discussing, marchers go by chanting and singing, bands play old protest favourites and new-minted anthems.

People carry home-made placards with their own messages.

The most common, of course is "Irhal!" ("Depart!"). But with the days passing, I've seen more impatient ones like "Irhal, my arm's hurting", "Irhal, I really need a shower", "Irhal, I can't find another joke", "Irhal means leave", and others.

One man has outlined a huge airliner on the ground with used paper cups and keeps everyone out of its outlines because the plane's ready to whisk Mubarak away.

A huge sheet of plastic pockets has been hung up and the pockets are speedily filling with caricatures.

This revolution is so organic, so personal, so real, it has exploded reservoirs of creativity in everybody taking part.

Each person coming to the square brings something: medical supplies for the field clinics which are still treating the people damaged by Mr Mubarak's police and thug militias, blankets for the thousands spending the night, cartons of water, biscuits.

Teams of young volunteers collect litter. The resulting piles are labelled "National Democratic Party".

This is not to say that all is well with us.

The government has, for the moment, withdrawn its police and its thug militias and the army sits on the periphery of Tahrir Square - to protect us.

Protesters slept on the tracks of the tanks to prevent the army from moving them

But the army has now put up barbed wire to narrow the entrances and exits and they're trying to move their tanks further into the square.

When the young people lay down in front of the tanks Sunday night, they fired volleys of shots into the air and dragged away three young men and beat them. The situation was diffused when a well-liked public figure intervened.

This is what we older revolutionaries are doing - putting everything we have at the service of the brave young people who have cleared a space from which we can all join the effort to reclaim our state.

Tahrir has become our civic space where leftists and liberals and Muslim Brotherhood discuss and sing and eat together.

The other cities and towns of Egypt have sent popular delegations.

The consensus is that the consensus will come out of Tahrir.

And one thing that Tahrir has already given us is a sense of who we are.

People are actually articulating: "They said we were divided, extreme, ignorant, fanatic - well here we are: diverse, inclusive, hospitable, generous, sophisticated, creative and witty."

Ahdaf Soueif addressed the crowd of demonstrators in Tahrir Square in early February

In Philip Pullman's Northern Lights, the aim of the evil guys is to sever children from their spirits so releasing the energy needed by the government.

Well, that's a brilliant metaphor for what we feel has been happening to us in Egypt.

We were being deliberately severed from everything we hold dear, in the service of keeping the region subservient to American and Israeli interests.

And the only Egyptians to gain anything by this were the members and cronies of the regime who amassed spectacular wealth at the material, moral and emotional expense of their fellow-citizens.

On Sunday in Tahrir, Christian masses were celebrated and Muslim prayers were said.

We all prayed together for the young people killed by the regime since 25 January and before.

Later, there was a wedding, and later still magicians and acrobats and small camp fires.

This enormous revolution that is happening in our streets and our homes is the Egyptian people reclaiming their state, their heritage, their voice, their personality.

Be with us.

Ahdaf Soueif is an Egyptian novelist and political and cultural commentator, who lives with her children in Cairo and London.

>via: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-12393795

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Egyptian minds are opened

Upheaval has opened the door to political and economic reform, but its most lasting effect may be psychological. Evan Hill in Cairo Last Modified: 13 Feb 2011 02:52 GMT Email Article Print Article Share Article Send Feedback

What is being suggested in Cairo now is nothing short of a mental house-clearing [Evan Hill] When Egypt awoke on Saturday morning after an all-night, nationwide party, it was for many citizens the first day in living memory without Hosni Mubarak as president.    In 18 days, revolution uprooted a regime that had ruled the country with ruthless tenacity for 30 years. While the upheaval has opened the door to political and economic reform, its most lasting effect may be the opening of the Egyptian mind. With the army on the streets and the old order in flames, the wall of cynical humour and pessimism erected by Egyptians as psychic protection against the crushing weight of their corrupt government seemed to split apart and crumble. Suddenly, anything was possible.   Later in the evening, a fight erupted between protesters and army officers attempting to restore traffic near Tahrir Square, the heart of the revolution. Old fears returned. But for a time on Saturday, the Tahrir Square reality – the universe where Egyptians banded together, separated their rubbish into organic and non-organic bins, and outlasted the "pharaoh" – became the new normal. 'We have no excuse now' As dawn broke, all-volunteer teams of street sweepers wearing rubber gloves and cotton masks struck out along Cairo's decrepit boulevards, sweeping dust and debris into trash bags. Where once it was commonplace to see Cairenes chuck wrappers and used food cartons with abandon, it was now impossible to drop a cigarette butt without a stern reprimand. In and around Tahrir Square, civilians painted over and scrubbed away anti-government graffiti that peppered every surface, from the walls of the old campus of the American University in Cairo to the armour of parked tanks. In Abdel Moneim Riad Square, near the Egyptian museum, where pro- and anti-government crowds had hurled rocks and Molotov cocktails at each other in deadly combat on February 2, men and women now formed human chains to prevent passersby from smudging the curbs they had just painted in thick black-and-white stripes. But the effort goes beyond rubbish pick-ups and street sweeping. What is being suggested in Cairo now is nothing short of a mental house-clearing - a complete overhaul in the way the average Egyptian has learned to do business in a society that has been smothered beneath nepotism and emergency law for decades. One flyer being distributed on Saturday put it this way: "Today this country is your country. Do not litter. Don't drive through traffic lights. Don't bribe. Don't forge paperwork. Don't drive the wrong way. Don't drive quickly to be cool while putting lives at risk. Don't enter through the exit door at the metro. Don't harass women. Don't say, 'It's not my problem.' Consider God in your work. We have no excuse anymore." Young Egyptians who had been visiting Tahrir Square for days - or living in it – now left to buy cleaning supplies and paint thinner and set off to tidy the streets between the square and the nearby parliament building, where protesters had been camping for two days. The sense of newfound pride was contagious. The barricades make an appearance At the southwest corner of Tahrir Square, facing the approach from the parliament building on Kasr al-Aini Street, the feel-good mood came to a crashing halt after the sun set. The army had been working all day to remove barricades along side streets, and suddenly traffic began flowing toward the square. Drivers honked their horns in celebration, but the protesters reacted quickly and angrily. Filling the air with the grind of metal on concrete, they threw up the barricades that they had taken down just a day earlier. Click here for more of Al Jazeera's special coverage  Barriers pilfered from traffic police, sheet-metal walls ripped out of a nearby construction site, and tipped-over phone booths all rolled back into place. Angry men stared out from behind their defence as crowds encircled soldiers in the nearby intersection. One officer argued with the protesters. "The government has granted all your demands," he said. His tone was that anyone left in the square must have ulterior motives, and anyone who doesn't want this country to get back on its feet is a traitor. Division set in among the protesters. Some argued in favour of the army, some argued that the occupation of Tahrir Square should continue. The latter group pointed out that the 30-year-old emergency national security laws in place since the assassination of Anwar Sadat, Mubarak's predecessor, were still effective. Alaa el-Din, a resident of Giza from the outskirts of Cairo, wearing a white galabeya, prayer cap and headwrap, said he loved the army but wanted democracy and freedom. "Our demands have been 90 per cent met, but 10 per cent remain," he said. "We reject the new government." El-Din was referring to the Egyptian cabinet and parliament, both of which have, in Egypt's short post-Mubarak life, largely remained unchanged, and which the army has signaled may remain until new elections can be held. In addition to the dissolution of the government and the end of emergency law, many protesters also continue to demand the release of all political prisoners. The fate of hundreds of demonstrators arrested since the revolution began on January 25 remains unclear. Sayed, a man who was arguing with el-Din, argued that such demands could not be met "all at once". He worried that division in Egyptian society would expose it to the risk of US invasion, and mentioned Iraq and Afghanistan. Elsewhere, tension rose between the protesters and army. 'We're in charge' The hardcore of Tahrir Square, those who have camped and fought in its 55,000 square metres for more than two weeks, have grown accustomed to their own civilian government.  That does not please the army. In the intersection near the barricade on Kasr al-Aini Street, an officer approached a civilian who had taken over traffic police duties, angrily demanding to know what he was doing. The civilian explained that he had been nominated to manage the intersection. The officer told him: "There are no more neighbourhood checkpoints or civilian brigades, we're in charge now." Suddenly, a squad of soldiers in ballistic helmets and camouflage pushed their way into a small side path between the barricade and the fenced-off pavement – where negotiations between the army and civilians were being held – and began to dismantle the barricade. They quickly knocked down the metal walls and dragged the debris to the side, motioning urgently for the traffic to begin passing through. The protesters reacted immediately, swelling into the street to prevent the cars from moving forward. In the glow of headlights, they shook their fingers at the drivers and laid their hands on the cars' hoods. The soldiers approached to move the protesters out of the way, and a shoving match ensued – a rare physical confrontation between the army and the protesters, who have throughout the revolution chanted: "The people and the army, hand in hand!" The confrontation simmered down without violence or an arrest. The army officers stood their men to the side as the protesters conferred. One man kissed a lower-ranking soldier on the cheek. Officers diverted oncoming traffic away from the square, where hundreds of thousands of people continued to celebrate and wave Egyptian flags, oblivious to the conflict a few hundred metres away. Questions asked In the discussions around the ruined barricade, it became clear that protesters were anything but united, and certainly confused about the future of a country where every familiar – and threatening – institution appeared to be falling, one by one. A tall young man advocating for a continued demonstration in Tahrir Square was badly outnumbered by those who insisted the job was done.   "Is the army going to stay until the elections?" the young man asked. "If they don't, who will protect us?" another responded. Inside the square, the celebration continued; on its fringes, the questions hung in the air.

Source: Al Jazeera

>via: http://english.aljazeera.net/news/middleeast/2011/02/201121322143201645.html

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Tahrir Square: The Many Little Revolutions

This afternoon I received this photo of Maggie, an Egyptian Christian friend who is a documentary filmmaker. When I asked her if I could post the photo on my blog, she sent me this email in return.

Maggie wrote:

The Arabic sign says “Ahmed (a Muslim name) and Mina (a Christian name) hand in hand.” The Arabic literally says “one hand.” The name of the young woman with whom I am standing is Nariman. Much to my shame, I had never talked to a woman with a niqab (total head cover) before. 

Although I have been going to Tahrir regularly, last Sunday was different. And even though Tahrir is where the Egyptian revolution is taking place, I am convinced that there are personal revolutions happening there daily. A man with a beard [signifying a Muslim] stood next to me and told me, "This is the first time I have heard Christians pray." He offered me dates and sang “Bless our country” with us. 

One of the Muslim Brotherhood members in Tahrir said, "I can honestly say that today is the first time that I've ever met a Christian brother. We hugged and kissed and I cried because I've never felt so close to another Egyptian who wants the same things that I do.” People may disagree on how representative these [relational transformations] are, but surely we agree on how wonderful and irreversible these personal revolutions are. 

My friend has spoken with one member of the Muslim Brotherhood in Tahrir and the man was so apologetic of what he has always called Westernized [Christian] girls in jeans. He said that they were the first to rush to his aid when he was injured and to provide him with first aid and water. He too has had a personal revolution and promised never to misjudge these young people again. It was truly heartwarming to hear. 

I am grateful for the many personal revolutions that we all experience there every day we go. 

In Arabic the word “Tahrir” means liberation, but it is a present continuous verb. Tahrir—liberation— is the work of every day and it may never be over. 

Sorry for the long email...but I just wanted to give context to the photo. 
Much love, pray for Egypt. 
Maggie

POSTED BY LYNNE HYBELS

>via: http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2011/02/tahrir-square-many-little-revolutions...

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Egypt revolution youth form national coalition

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by Salma Shukrallah

In Alexandria, Egypt, on July 27, 2010, riot police surround supporters of Khaled Said, one carrying a poster with his picture, after the trial of the two Egyptian policemen, Mahmoud Salah and Awad Ismail, who beat him to death and said he’d choked on a bag of marijuana. His murder inflamed youth rage against police in Egypt, sparking protests that led to the overthrow of the 30-year dictatorship of President Hosni Mubarak. – Photo: Nasser Nasser/AP

“The Youth Revolution” has become the term widely used to describe Egypt’s recent uprising, despite the diversity of its members. Although people of all ages and various social backgrounds have taken part in one way or another in the revolt, the uprising has been widely attributed to the youth primarily because of their Jan. 25 Internet initiative.

The Khaled Said Facebook group, which was formed to commemorate the 28-year-old who died at the hands of Egyptian police, had taken the initiative to declare Jan. 25 a day of Egyptian revolt to condemn police brutality. Following their steps, several bloggers, Facebook and Twitter users, as well as activist groups and associations, quickly adopted their call. Although few believed it could actually happen, the initiative snowballed to become Egypt’s largest uprising in its modern history.

Khaled Said, who was beaten to death by Egyptian police afraid he’d reveal a video showing them stealing seized marijuana, now symbolizes Egyptian youth rage at police brutality. The Facebook page “We are all Khaled Said” was the first to call for a rally Jan. 25 in Tahrir (Liberation) Square.

Hoping to create a form of representation for themselves, many young activists have banded to form a coalition called “The Revolution’s Youth.” Groups involved include the April 6 Youth movement, Justice and Freedom, Muslim Brotherhood youth, ElBaradei’s campaign, the Popular Democratic Movement for Change (HASHD), The Democratic Front and Khaled Said Facebook group administrators. The coalition has 14 group representatives in total and a general assembly with a few hundred members.

The group representatives include Ahmed Maher and Mahmoud Samy from the April 6 Youth movement, ElBaradei supporters Ziad Alimy and Abdel Rahman Samir, Islam Lotfy and Mohamed Abbas from the Muslim Brotherhood, Shady Ghazali Harb and Amr Salah from the Democratic Front Party and from the Youth for Justice and Freedom, Khaled Sayed and Mostafa Shaki.

Additionally, Wael Ghonim, one of the founders of the Facebook group “Kolona Khaled Said” (“We are all Khaled Said”), as well as independent activitsts Naser Abdel Hamid, Abdel Rahman Faris and Sally Moore, are also members.

According to Ahmed Ezzat, a HASHD and coalition member, the coalition is still expanding and intends to include other young and diverse political trends that have been part of Egypt’s political sphere over the past few past years.

“Although it started with only these groups, we hope it expands to include all the other young activists, including young members from the Karama party, Labor party, Kifaya and all others, including independent bloggers and Internet activists,” says Ezzat.

This is Khaled Said after his fatal police beating June 6, 2010.

Not claiming that they are talking on the uprising’s behalf, the coalition was formed with an aim to provide representation for the young who have played a role in political life in Egypt and have contributed to the current revolt. However, the uprising has taken its own path, independent of these groups, and, according to many of their members, the coalition only aims to articulate its demands and keep them at the forefront of public consciousness as Egypt prepares for change.

Google Inc.’s marketing manager Wael Ghonim (left), on Tuesday hugs the mother of Khaled Said, a young 28-year-old businessman who died June 6, 2010, at the hands of undercover police, setting off months of protests against the hated police. Ghonim, who set up the “We are all Khaled Said” Facebook page, which now has 76,010 fans, became a hero for demonstrators after he was detained on Jan. 27, two days after the protests began at Tahrir Square in Cairo. He was held for 12 days. According to the Washington Post, “Said’s mother and sister have been among the demonstrators who have attended daily protests in central Cairo since the movement began.”

Although diverse in vision, the coalition’s groups have long agreed on basic demands, which they believe will lead to a more democratic Egypt, and have worked cooperatively in recent years to push for these common goals. The groups’ common requests have included an end to police brutality, the abolition of emergency law, free and fair elections, constitutional changes and an end to Mubarak’s 30-year rule.

The coalition’s stand was not to engage in any negotiations until President Mubarak stepped down. While many coalitions claiming to represent the revolt involved themselves in such talks with government bodies, the coalition of the Revolution’s Youth insisted on its primary demand before any details are discussed.

Not satisfied to turn civic affairs back over to the government and walk away, youth returned on Saturday, the day after their historic victory, to clean up their revolution “headquarters,” Tahrir Square. These are the sharp rocks that were hurled to protect the square from invading Mubarak supporters, many the hated police without their uniforms. – Photo: Bassam El-Zoghby

In Tahrir Square, the coalition set up its own stage in front of the Mogama’a building, with speakers and microphones, through which it transmitted its views and latest developments to the public. The stage was also used for young people to perform their music and poetry.

The coalition’s main challenge now is to sustain an organized body in which the thousands of young Egyptians who took to the streets can be represented.

Salma Shukrallah is a Cairo-based journalist forAhramOnline, where this story first appeared. Contact her on Facebook and Twitter.

Police brutality drug case sparked Egyptian revolution

“We are all Khaled Said” is a popular saying in Egypt among the country’s insurgents. Said waskilled on June 6 by Alexandria police who claimed he choked on a bag of marijuana. The grisly truth that he’d been beaten to death instead fueled the campaign to oust President Hosni Mubarak.

Shortly after Said had accidentally received a video of police stealing seized marijuana on his computer, he was accosted by authorities in an Internet cafe, where police repeatedly smashed his head on a marble table. Two officers charged with Said’s murder escaped from jail during the recent uprising and are currently at large.

“The youth now feel that through this revolution, they have avenged Khaled’s death,” says Ali Kassem, Said’s uncle. “Khaled’s soul gets more peace every day thanks to the effort and determination of the youth to bring down this corrupt government.”