Protests in Egypt are outlawed, even after the government-liquefying actions of January 25, but the locals aren’t taking shit from anyone these days.
The country remains in a precarious position after the revolution. Much is still to be decided about who and what will take over from the blood-sucking Mubarak regime.
But unlike this time last year, people are talking openly about each and every decision that will affect them – and when they don’t like what they hear, they take to the streets.
For the past two nights, some of the families whose loved ones were slaughtered during the revolution have been camping outside the Egyptian state television building, about a kilometre from Tahrir Square.
They have been sleeping rough on the Nile-side pavement, some in tents, others in the open air. Banners portraying their dead relatives and friends, captured at their happiest moments in life, are their armour.
Mothers, fathers, grandmothers and children mourn in solidarity, but this is not just an outpouring of grief, these protests are calculated and strategic.
The trials of government officials implicated in the military action are due to re-convene this week. These people don’t want their brother or sister’s death swept under the bureaucratic rug. They demand justice and they are here to make some noise. They have chosen the state television building because they want the world’s media to amplify that noise.
The tension is high. The protesters have successfully blocked one direction of traffic on the road outside the building, the frantic Corniche el-Nil, for two days now. Horns wail constantly. The odd scuffle breaks out, but soon dies down. Egyptians, especially those who have lost, don’t want more violence - they simply crave justice and a new order.
A reporter in an oversized black suit from the television building begins to interview some of those assembled. The group surround him, shouting their stories, voices rising to breaking point. Sensibly, one of his minders drags the reporter away. Nerves are raw and authority, be it police, politicians or media, have to re- earn the people’s trust.
Despite the chaos, no police or army intervene. There is a presence, but they stand back, reluctant to step in.
On the peripheries of the protest, life goes on as before. A shoeless little girl, covered in Cairo muck and rich in pathos, still tries to sell her packets of tissues for an Egyptian pound - if she’s lucky. If she did go to school, she’d only be in the first or second year. Will she be part of the new, fairer Egypt?
Perhaps. There’s another camping protest running alongside this one: a group of homeless families have been here for four weeks, demanding access to government-built housing projects on the outskirts of Cairo.
The euphoria of the revolution is still fuelling many people around Egypt, but there’s a lot to settle before life here even goes close to findings its level.
Will the new Egypt be a ‘civil state’ or will the country’s laws be dictated by Islamic Sharia, as propagated by the popular Muslim Brotherhood. Will the new constitution be drafted before the General Election in September or should it be entrusted to the newly elected government?
These are huge ideas but it seems a large swathe of the population is taking part at every twist and turn.
Last year in the UK, British Airways and London Underground strikes were thwarted at the final post, deemed illegal by the courts because of voting technicalities and whatnot. These protestors will not let insignificant details(such as the fact that what they are doing is against the law) stop their fight that easy. They aren’t afraid of authority any more.
Perhaps they also realise that for Egypt to obtain order it must ride out of a wave of disorder first.
blog by Steve Madgwick
