You Can't Make Mistakes

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This article appears in this month’s Erudition, edited by Sally Cervenak. You can view the original article here: http://www.eruditiononline.co.uk/article.php?id=935

Egyptian citizens are celebrating after nearly three weeks of continuous demonstrations in Cairo, Alexandria, and elsewhere in Egypt; and right they should. Their tenacity and dedication should be lauded; it will surely be remembered. To have navigated such an uncertain situation with a sense of responsibility, suppressed until only a few weeks ago should elicit respect from around the globe.

What has happened in Egypt these past few weeks certainly came as a surprise to many. After three delusional speeches from the now-ousted President Hosni Mubarak, in which he patronized Egyptians-referring to them as his children, himself as their father-Vice President Omar Suleiman’s announcement could not have come as more of a shock. But this was not the first instance of surprise this year; the very occurrence of such insistent and dedicated protests astounded many, Egyptian and foreign. I myself have come to know Egyptians as patriotic and good-spirited, but not-so-secretly demoralized by the unrelenting oppression of a state fearful of criticism. With slander and libel considered felonious defamation under the thirty-year-old Emergency Law, people have become quite fearful of criticizing the government beyond the accepted generalities of: “It’s Egypt, nothing works” or “fi-l-mishmish” (which is loosely idiomatic for “when pigs fly”).* Cab drivers in Cairo who decried the abuses of the government on an outward journey, were just as likely to praise Mubarak on their return

This well-founded fear of reprisal is what has kept all but the most daring or foolhardy Egyptians from mounting protests in the past. And who wouldn’t be afraid after witnessing the imprisonment of Ayman Nour, after he made comments about the ability of the aging Mubarak to handle the presidency during the 2005 elections? Anyone who vocally criticized the police or the Interior Ministry were just as likely to be falsely charged with a trumped-up offense and thrown in the clink. For years, Egyptians have lived in fear of the Mukhabirat–the intelligence officers of Egypt’s heavy-handed Interior Ministry. Theirs was a dominion of Orwellian surveillance, torture, and imprisonment without accountability. It was terrifying.

This time was different though and it was clear from day two, when the demonstrators began shouting for Mubarak’s ouster. Just one month ago in Egypt, rhetoric like that was likely to get you tried for treason. Indeed quite a few protesters were arrested in those first few days and threatened with charges of treason and sedition. Only once the cries went up, the game changed. After Mubarak made his first historically delusional speech, it was evident that this struggle would not come to an end until he relinquished power. No amount of threating arrest, nor curfews, could put this cry down.

Those who stood defiant put aside their fears of a totalitarian state and made their demands known in the face of what would have been terrible and painful reprisal had they lost. Perhaps even more impressive than this bravery, was the initiative taken by Egyptians in the face of uncertainty and potential chaos. When the police were ordered by the Interior Ministry to disappear from the streets after three days of solid protest, Egyptians banded together to protect their neighbourhoods and their property. As it was realised that the protests would not stop until the demands of demonstrators were met, citizens began dealing with essential services. Every morning in Tahrir Square, groups of protesters went out and picked up rubbish. Some say that the square never looked so clean as it has done during these last few weeks.

When violence erupted – very likely at the hands of secret police and hired thugs – people worked to set up makeshift hospitals in downtown mosques. They ensured that protesters were fed and had access to water and medicine. Mobile phone charging stations were set up at point throughout Tahrir Square so that people could stay in contact once the communications networks came back online. Even during the communications blackout, Egyptians did what they do remarkably well and communicated and disseminated information via an informal network of people on the ground. One blogger commented that this revolution only worked because Egyptians are the original social networkers, with or without an internet.

Of course, I am focusing on what occurred in Cairo. Similar things happened in Alexandria and elsewhere. My friends in Alexandria guarded their neighbourhoods just as we saw in our usually quiet suburban neighbourhood south of Cairo. Roadblocks were stationed up and down the streets and at every intersection. Men and boys were armed with lengths of pipe and sticks (and in some cases swords, golf clubs and bike helmets). Protesters in Tahrir Square began checking their fellow Egyptians for weapons and identification in an attempt to keep away those who would have undermined the protests by turning them into violent street riots.

This revolution, and that is what it is, did not occur without casualties. Three hundred were killed, most from head injuries caused by rocks or other blunt objects. Over a thousand were injured. Property was destroyed, shops were looted, cars and trucks burned. The Egyptian economy was damaged severely. Tourism will take some time to recover to its previous levels.

With any luck, once the celebrations have settled a little (though not the celebratory spirit), Egypt will be able to rebuild their country with the same sense of community and initiative exemplified throughout the last several weeks. The Supreme Council of the Armed Forces has made it very clear that it cannot be a substitute for a democratically elected government of the people of Egypt. Egyptians are in the unique position of having forced a corrupt, illegitimate dictator and his cronies out of power not by force, but by making their demands known and holding their ground until those demands were met. The role of the military in what occurred is still a bit unclear, but it would appear that the Supreme Council had grown tired of the machinations of a dying regime and decided to end it.

On Thursday, Minister of Defence Mohamed Tantawi was actually out in the city talking to demonstrators. Representatives of the military made statements that the demonstrators would “have all their demands met”. All the more reason for protesters’ anger, sadness, and confusion when Mubarak stood up to make his final deluded address to the Egyptian people that night in which he asserted that he would not be stepping down until the next election. The scene was almost surreal. But then when Suleiman made the abdication announcement the next day on behalf of Mubarak, the pendulum of emotion swung the other way. The strength of emotion then released evinced what had fuelled the public for the duration of the eighteen day protest. It can only be hoped that this emotion will continue to fuel Egypt, for the next few months and years of reform and reconstruction.

The coming phase of Egypt’s revolution will be an interesting and difficult one. The most visible part was completed with the ousting of the totalitarian regime, but the people will need now to monitor that the existing entrenched bureaucracy and the military do not exercise undue influence over the process of arranging and conducting fair and open elections. Egypt has a bright future ahead and has demonstrated, like Tunisia before it, that real revolution is possible in the Middle East. Let us hope that those international powers with an interest in the region do not interfere with genuine democracy, as they have done in the past. Barring this threat, there appear blissfully few barricades across the road of Egypt’s future, something which anyone who has ever driven in Cairo would gladly welcome.

*’Fi-l-mishmish’ is an abbreviation of ‘bokra fi-l-mishmish’ (‘Apricots tomorrow’). It is an expression generally used to demonstrate disbelief that something will occur, not unlike ‘when pigs fly’.

Hi guys,

I just wanted to let our families and close friends know that we are alright in case you had caught the news and were worried about us.

There were widespread protest demonstrations in Cairo yesterday and in about 10 other cities as well. They have continued tonight, but on a smaller scale. There was a good deal of violence at one point late in the evening yesterday when the police finally decided to clear out the occupied areas. Tear-gas, water cannons and rubber bullets were all used. There were no live rounds fired. There have been several deaths and in Cairo about 250 people were injured and are now hospitalized. This could well be the beginning of something huge here, not unlike what happened in Tunisia. There are reports of rumors coming in that the son of the President (and his perceived successor) has left the country and is presently in London. It is rumored that the First Lady has also left. These reports have been vehemently denied by the American Embassy and should probably be considered unlikely to have actually occurred.

It will be interesting to watch how the situation progresses, but it will be unlikely to cause any problems for us. This seems so far to be a primarily secular popular revolt instead of one lead by the Muslim Brotherhood or other politico-religious groups. It is unclear where exactly the organization is coming from though. The protesters are regular, working-class people seeking governmental reform and measures to relieve the grinding poverty that Egypt is experiencing.

Social media sites and some news sites are being blocked variously throughout the country. Twitter confirmed earlier that they were in fact blocked yesterday. People are using external proxies in order to circumvent the internet blockades and communicate with each other. This will likely lead to stronger measures undertaken to control the flow of information both to news outlets and to those involved in the demonstrations. There are rumors that mobile phone service is being cut off for known activists. There were reports last evening that mobile services were cut off in Tahrir Square in central Cairo.

We are quite safe at present in Maadi (a southern suburb/district of Cairo). The part of the city we live in is far from the action, and the likelihood of anything happening in this particular suburb/district is low considering that it is inhabited primarily by wealthier folks and expatriates. Regardless, we’re keeping our eyes and ears open and making only leaving the house when absolutely necessary. Some of our more foolhardy friends are headed downtown regularly to scope out what is happening. They are brave, but perhaps a little foolish. It is understandable though. This is an exciting time here.

I am paying pretty close attention to what is happening and I will keep all of you informed in the case that the situation changes, possibly necessitating our evacuation. In that extremely unlikely scenario, our plan is to catch whatever flight is available to somewhere in Europe and then regroup and figure out what to do next. We will be extremely grateful to our friends in the EU if they will be willing to take in refugees at such a time as it becomes a necessity.

A DISCLAIMER: None of the information contained in this letter is original research or journalism. All of this has been gleaned from online news sources over the last two days. This is a letter to friends and family who are concerned about my safety and the safety of my friends in Cairo. I have been told that the international news reports on the situation here are confusing and convoluted. This digest is meant to clarify the situation for my loved ones back home. Please do not regard this as some sort of news report, which it is not.

Love, JM

This is the first post that I am writing from my phone, a Nokia N900. Initially, when buying the phone, I had hoped to do more of this. The WordPress interface was akward to handle on this device, though, so I never did it. The interface has gotten better, so here we are.

I hope that this might encourage me to write a bit more, particularly while on the bus on the way to the university in the morning. This activity may also cause an early onset of arthritis of the thumbs or carpal tunnel syndrome, which will be horrible. You takes your chances, I guess.

I also hope to find a bit of spare time to build a new theme as well. This one has had a good run, but it’s time for something new. Maybe a cleaner theme, or a trash style. Lord knows that all I would need to do is look around me for inspiration for that. That’s not a bad idea actually. I’ll call it “Banks of the Nile.” It can have bits of garbage and Bebsi cans and sand and murky water. The possibilities are endless.

I should be moving the site to a new server at some point as well. This should be interesting and may fail terribly at first. Who can say? it will be better though: and I do like trying stuff that I have never done before. It is kind of my motto after all.

I took a bunch of my friend Peter Waters‘ mates mosque-walking around Fatimid Cairo the other day. We walked from the north gate to the south gate of the old city—Bāb al-Futūḥ to Bāb Zuwayla and then into the Qasaba. We then continued on from there and wound up near Sayyida Zeinab Mosque, but only the first part of our walk is documented here.

These are some snaps that I took with my new camera. I’m trying to get the hang of geotagging and recording walking maps with the pictures in, so this is still a little disjointed. I marked all of the spots on the map that appear in the photos. You can zoom to see the route better if you like and click on the little blue markers for the names of individual places.

Bab to Bab

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The other day Jeff and I took a walk down al-Darb al-Aḥmar, one of the city’s most famous streets, and one that I had never walked before. I had gone to a talk about the street and the orientation and placement of its mosques and mausoleums given by Dr. Nasser Rabbat, Agha Khan professor of Islamic Architecture at MIT, and wanted to take a closer look at some of the the monuments themselves. This was also the last part of the medieval city that I had not previously walked along the path from the northern gate to the Citadel.

View Larger Map

So, Jeff and I went. He took care of the photography and I took care of the pointing and saying words that probably meant a hill of beans to him, but it was kind of him to humor me. Along the way we meant a guy named Gamal and started talking to him. He worked at the reconstruction of the Mosque of Amir Aqṣunqur (1347, a.k.a. – Blue Mosque) and I told him what we were doing. He knew many of the faculty members in my department at the university and was thrilled about that so he grabbed us by the arms and took us inside the reconstruction projects and showed us around.

Aqṣunqur is in a terrible state of disrepair, but still stunning. It is called the “Blue Mosque” because it was restored and rebuilt in 1652 by Amir Ibrāhīm Aghā Mastaḥifẓān and the qibla wall was redecorated with blue Ismet tiles. these tiles show up all over Cairo during the Ottoman period and can be seen adorning doorways and windows, though not to the extent that they are present in Aqṣunqur. We didn’t take any pictures of the interior since we weren’t really supposed to be there anyway and sometimes folks here get touchy about things being photographed if they are in any sort of state of disrepair.

Next he took us into the mosque and mausoleum of Amir Khāyrbak (1502-1520). The interior is completely restored. It is stunning. You can see it pictured below. We went from there to the House of al-Razzāz (1494-1778) and wandered around the palace where a number of Mamluk sultans and Ottoman rulers spent their days. There is a passage that runs from there to the citadel. Scary and unstable looking.

After this we continued back up the street and climbed into the minaret at the mosque of Amir Altunbūgha al-Maridānī (1340) so that we could have a view of al-Darb al-Ahmar from above. What we saw is a little disconcerting. This is a part of the city that was hit hard by a 1992 earthquake. Many of the buildings which collapsed then are still in terrible disrepair if not completely demolished. In 18 years, very little has been done to rectify this. You can see some of this in the pictures below.

We then continued back down the street toward the Citadel and exited in front of Bab al-‘Azab and caught a cab to Bab al-Lūq. The last photo is from the front of a restaurant in Bab al-Lūq. I have seen the restaurant a million times but have never noticed the hilarious advertisement for brains.

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A Mosque on Every Corner.

While Nigel and Johnny were in from Taiwan, Megan and I decided to take them Mosque-walking from the Sayyida Zeinab Mosque to very near the Citadel in Islamic Cairo. We swiftly coined the term “Mosqueing” to refer to this activity. Check Webster’s in a few years, it will be there.

There are unfortunately no photos of Sayyida Zeinab in this collection. They wouldn’t let Megan in at all and the doorman was everything but friendly. I will try to go back soon and grab a few snaps of the outside at the very least.

The walk then proceeded down ‘Abd al-Magīd al-Libān St. and turned onto Ṣulayba St. near Ibn Tulūn Mosque. It was a fun afternoon and we got some decent snaps out of it. We ended up catching a cab—quite thirsty and exhausted—from in front of the Sultan Hassan Mosque to Falaki Square near Bab el-Louq. Those of you in the know know that this is also the location of everyone’s favorite dive/watering-hole Horreya. Cold Stella actually tastes good after a long hot walk through the dusty backstreets.

Enjoy the photos.

Nothing gets in or out.

I had to go to the American Embassy in Cairo this morning. My passport still has five years left before it expires, but all of my visa pages have been used up. This is not necessarily from traveling a lot—traveling between EU countries now requires no passport control—but from living long-term in a country that has very arbitrary and haphazard immigration and border control. My passport is chock full of Egyptian visas.

Here is how it works: you can get a temporary—tourist—visa to enter the country from your local Egyptian consulate or embassy. Or, you pay the visa fee and get the stamp when you enter the country at the airport. Either way, this takes one page of your passport. Upon landing, you get an arrival stamp (one-quarter of a page). If you leave and come back you get an exit stamp and another incoming stamp (half page). If you apply for a resident visa through a sponsor, such as the university, you will use up another page.

If you apply for a long-term tourist visa—which is what most people do whether they are working/attending university here or not—this takes yet another page. From the last calendar year, I have four tourist visas (4 pages), one multi-entry endorsement (1/2 page), two full-time student/resident visas (2 pages), and about six exit/entry stamps (1 1/2 pages). That is a total of nine out of the sixteen-odd visa pages in my passport gone. My most recent resident visa has expired and I have two weeks to get a tourist visa for the summer in order to fill the gap before the University will sponsor me for another visa. The Mogamma will not place another visa in my passport becasue I am out of pages.

It was time to have pages added to the ol’ passport. So, I checked the embassy hours online: 8am until 11am, every Sunday through Thursday except for holidays and the last Tuesday of every month.

Confused yet? Just hang on.

So, this morning, I dragged myself out of bed and staggered downstairs to catch a cab downtown. I arrived near the embassy and walked, looking for the entrance. The American Embassy in Cairo appears to be a tribute to the concrete fortress-style architecture of the American 1970s. Here is a picture, which I do not own the rights to, but gets the point across. I would have taken my own picture but likely this would have ended in my being arrested and beaten. What you will not see in that picture is the 5 meter high wall that surrounds the triangular tower in the middle of an triangular city block. I didn’t know which of the three streets the main entrance was on, so I just picked a side and started walking.

It was the wrong side.

There are three or four doors in the two-kilometer long embassy wall, labeled cryptically. I just kept walking and walking and finally asked one of the many Egyptian National Security guys standing outside the walls where the entrance was. He gave me directions. By this point I am already worried that I will not have enough time to get inside, wait in line and submit my paperwork. I am also a little put off by how—not—inviting the embassy building itself is.

A few weeks prior to this, I was invited by one of the committee members at the BCA to the Queen’s Birthday Party at the British Embassy. It was a giant cocktail party for the Queen. Bagpipes, drinks, food, ice-cream, hundreds and hundreds of diplomats. It was pretty cool. The party was held in the garden at the embassy residence: a very lovely, very comfortable setting. Grand British architectural style, but quite modern. Apparently, before the construction of the Nile Corniche road, the garden had extended all the way to the river. Lovely. The American Embassy is the opposite of this. While the British seemed to say, “Come in. Have a drink,” the Americans seemed to be saying, “Please leave now, or we might beat you.”

I finally found the entrance and a man pointed me to the left door as he was pointing couples of people to the door on the right. I noticed an AUC professor who I often see in the library in the line ahead of me. Once inside the security chamber—for lack of a better term—I was relieved of my mobile phone and my identification. I had been warned about this by a friend who had told me to take a book, but nothing electronic. After reassembling my person, I was told that to get to the American Citizen Services section I would need to go right then right again, left, up the stairs outside, through the doors, right, then down the stairs inside and then left. There were no signs. I noticed the visa section for Egyptians trying to get entry visas on my left before the stairs and the doors and things. It was outside. At 10am the temperature was already 30C (86F). No better way to say “please come to our country” than “please sit in this horrifyingly hot place and wait forever for the privilege.”

Even once inside, the place screamed “Go away! You do not belong here!” The ceiling was 50 meters above and there were rows of identical windows. The room was triangular. I was standing below ground in the center of the triangular tower. I took a number from a machine, which was tiny, unlabeled and on a shelf practically at eye-level so that you would have to search the entire high-ceilinged chamber before finding it. Then I waited. There were 30 people ahead of me. This took the better part of the hour.

Once my number was called, the rest was relatively painless. I submitted my passport and application and was then instructed to take a blue form to the cashier, even though there is no charge for additional pages being added to a passport. I was told that I needed to get a “no-charge” receipt from the cashier. I rolled my eyes. The woman on the other side of the bullet-proof glass did not blink and pointed in the direction of the cashier.

And that was it. I was told to come back the next morning and my passport would be ready. Relatively painless. I just wonder what goes on inside the embassy that requires that level of fortress-like security and obfuscation. We—Americans—really are crazed when it comes to security theater. We just can’t get enough. So, tomorrow morning I will get up and repeat the process before work, or just wait until Wednesday when I can go to the Mogamma as well—an experience which I will also write about, I’m sure.

I will write more later, but this felt like I should report for family and friends Stateside.

A bomb went off in Khan al-Khalili a little over an hour ago. This is the big tourist souq in one of the older parts of the city.

What I last saw on al-Jazeera—there is no local news on the incident at this time—is that there is at least on French woman dead and a number of French and German tourists injured, along with a few Egyptians.

Here are some links to Reuters and AP coverage.

Two foreigners among four dead in Cairo blast: police (Reuters)

Blast in crowded Cairo tourist area wounds 18 (AP)

I’ll let you know anything more when I know it. But at present there is no need to worry. We’re doing just fine on the other side of the river from this. But we will keep our eyes open and avoid the touristy places for a while.

Sometimes things still surprise even me.

I was sitting on the balcony the other morning with Stacey having our tea, and suddenly she jumped up and screamed at the sound of a crash in the street. I stood up and looked on with her and saw that a mint green car had hit two guys on a scooter. They had jumped/fallen/been knocked clear of any injury, and were standing up, checking themselves to make sure that nothing was broken, rubbing bruised knees and elbows. The young woman in the car did not move but just raised her hands in exasperation and glared at them. They started shouting at her as another man stopped to help them extract the scooter from under her front bumper.

She got out of the car at this point, shouting at the two men that it was their fault and what did they think they were doing? They shouted back that she was crazy and needed to be careful what she was doing. The scooter’s seat had fallen completely off and there was a puddle of gas and oil leaking out of some newly disconnected hose or damaged casing. They pulled the scooter off to the side of the road as a police officer walked up from a nearby street-corner. She was already back in the car. Just as they had finished getting the scooter clear of the car, she tried to pull around them, honking her horn. The guy who had been driving the scooter shouted in anger and pounded the hood of her car with his fist shouting that she had to wait and take care of this.

Rather than doing that she honked her horn at him and when he and the other man refused to move she just drove forward a little as if to threaten. This had one of the guys incensed, and he raised his hands shouting at her. The police officer lit a cigarette and watched. By this time she was in the next “lane” over as she had been trying to squeeze over to get around them, refusing to take any responsibility for the accident at all. When the man further refused to budge, she just gunned the engine and hit him, sending him up onto her hood. He somehow managed to roll off to the side like a portly, middle-aged ninja and remained astonishingly uninjured as she sped away down the street at the full speed of her late-model luxury Citroen. The police officer threw his cigarette butt down with no regard for the puddle of gasoline in the street and sauntered away to his corner without a word.

The two guys managed to get most of the pieces of the scooter and limped it down the street while a bawwab on the street picked up a piece of the scooter which someone pointed out that they had missed. He looked down the street as if in an attempt to ascertain their distance so that he might run after them, then shrugged and chucked it over onto the sidewalk and shuffled back to his perch in the middle of the road.

We were both naïvely astonished, which quickly wore away. This is not the first time I have seen someone from the lower class here grossly mistreated by someone of the obviously privileged class, but it was such a perfect visual metaphor for the state of things here: a young girl in a new car runs over a man while an officer of the law looks on disinterested. The privileged exploit and abuse the disenfranchised while the state looks the other way. That is the reality of daily life here, and sometimes it seems like the winds of change are forecast a long way off.