The day of no departure

The ‘day of departure’ may not have gone to plan but the ‘revolution’ seems to be back on track. Unbelievably, despite the bloodshed and bitterness of the last two days, thousands and thousands of people made their way once more to Tahrir yesterday (which must surely be re-named Jan 25 Square soon, to accompany 6 October Bridge and 26 July St and 15 May Bridge and all the other dates that mark this city.)

For the first time in 48 hours, we ventured out too, late in the afternoon when it seemed conclusive that the pro-democracy group had taken back the streets. In the morning, there were still reports of attacks on foreigners coming in – one friend sent out a group mail telling us that her friend, an American girl, had been dragged out of a car with a group of Egyptian male friends and they had been beaten and spat upon.  So we abandoned an early plan to go and stayed in – the situation seemed too volatile.

But later in the afternoon, an Egyptian friend called us from Tahrir and said that it seemed safe – he had seen foreigners and press, he said, and the atmosphere was tremendous.  We were watching the images ourselves on TV, in amazement at the numbers who were turning out. So we decided to go – a motley group of us: an Egyptian man, his Dutch wife, who has Egyptian citizenship, a German-Palestinian woman and me, a British Indian. Ironically, out of the three women, I look the most Egyptian but speak the least Arabic. My Swedish friends, who have accompanied me on all of these trips so far, stayed at home reluctantly – both tall, thin and blonde, they simply look too ‘foreign’.

So I left my British ID at home and my camera and anything that might mark me as a foreign journalist. This time the checkpoints started at the entrance to Kasr-El-Nil Bridge, rather than Tahrir itself, and we were searched numerous times along the way (my lighter was confiscated but not, ironically, my Dictaphone which I had forgotten to remove). Hundreds of people seemed to be leaving Tahrir but there were still big crowds heading in. The atmosphere was calm and surprisingly organised, though it was impossible not to feel a little jumpy after the last few days.  Piles of stones and rocks lined the roads, a grim reminder of the violence that erupted here.

Inside, Tahrir looked a little bit like a battlezone, on temporary relief from the war. On the wide road leading up to the Square, exhausted men slept on the pavements. Others simply leaned against walls, too tired even to hold up their signs. Occasionally I saw men with bandaged heads or plasters.  But in the heart of the Square, there was still something of the festive atmosphere of Tuesday, with spontaneous chants breaking out amongst the huge crowds, speeches and singing.  At one point, there was wild cheering and clapping – a rumour had gone round that Mubarak had stepped down which soon turned out to be untrue.

It is impossible not to be moved by the mass of humanity at Tahrir, this great exhausted group of people who started a revolution that is now reverberating around the Middle East.  They have come out day after day – or never left – and battled every attempt to shift them: the riot police, water cannons, tear gas, rocks, hired thugs, the Mukhabarat, even horses and camels in the Square.  What happened yesterday was a reminder to Mubarak that there are still many who are prepared to fight for change. Perhaps the brutality of the last couple of days has also backfired against him – one Tweeter said she had been on his side after his speech but watching the violence on Wednesday had made her shift back.

But painting this ‘revolution’ in broad brush strokes – the people v brutal dictator – as tempting as it may be internationally, is wrong. Although the pro-democracy movement has re-gained some ground after yesterday, this long stalemate is not helping either side. Both sides are now fighting for their lives since both fear serious – perhaps fatal – recriminations if they lose. I have secular friends who fear the Muslim Brotherhood  will take over the protest and are caught between them and Mubarak.  And there is a vast middle ground that simply wants it all to end, with Mubarak serving out his term if necessary.  As one friend said to me yesterday: “We have waited thirty years for him to go; surely we can wait another five months.”

The most popular solution currently is that Mubarak retain his position as president but in an honorary capacity, while his real powers are shifted to Suleiman for an interim period, until elections can take place.  That may be unpalatable to some but it seems the best chance for unity and stability for this fractured country, surely the priority at this time. (As another friend said: There will be time for revenge later.) There are rumours that Suleiman will be speaking to the ‘council of wise men’ that are now representing the opposition soon and that things are shifiting, albeit too slowly for many. The curfew has been lifted today, until 7pm, allowing a degree of normality to return to the streets. But where we go from here is still anybody’s guess. This protest has defied all attempts thus far to predict an outcome. The one constant remains the uncertainty.

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2 thoughts on “The day of no departure

  1. Pingback: Tweets that mention The day of no departure | Black Coffee and Cigarettes -- Topsy.com

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