Egypt

Egypt says yes to constitutional amendments

Via The Tyee, by Azza Sedky

[Editor's note: Dr. Azza Sedky, a Communications and ESL instructor at Capilano University, was in Cairo during the winter when popular unrest overthrew the Mubarak government. She is now watching events in Egypt from Vancouver.]

Via Skype, I had asked my close Egyptian friends, the Eids, if they will be voting on the constitution amendments on March 19, 2011. Their response was swift, "Absolutely." The Eids, like many other Egyptians, had not voted before.

Via Facebook, and as a preamble to her voting mission, another friend quoted a religious verse: "I'm depending on You [God] in all my endeavours," she wrote, transcending this simple vote to a totally different level. Upon her return from voting, she again wrote, "Done it! I've voted for the first time in my life."

And across all Egypt the voting turnout was truly humbling. The voter lineups zigzagged around blocks and wound up narrow staircases, with voters seeming quite content to queue for hours. The physically challenged and the ninety-year-old walked up these stairs to vote. This is a remarkable achievement for a people that had never bothered to vote, and never even lined up, for that matter.

But the ultimate change is seen in Safeya, my mom's illiterate caregiver. The concept of voting had never occurred to her before, but this time round, she exercised her right; as she was voting, someone asked her whom she would be voting for, and she responded proudly, "I'm free to vote whichever way I please." This is not only remarkable but truly phenomenal.

The desire to vote has been the first transformation that the revolution produced: it created passion in a people usually unconcerned and apathetic, and it made them believe in their voice and vote. Kudos to the revolution.

In hindsight, I wish I had asked the Eids whether they were voting for or against the amendments. It didn't seem as vital then to know how they would vote as that they would indeed vote. However, the choice that the Egyptians made is quite critical.

And the results are out: with 41 percent of eligible voters voting, 77 percent said yes to the constitution amendments. Eighteen million Egyptians exercised their voting rights. This clearly reflects the views of the people and predicts the results of elections yet to come.

What does this result say about what Egyptians want? Will it lead Egypt towards a democratic path or towards the bleak unknown?

One group, the "No" group, saw the amendments as falling short of the required changes. They wanted the old constitution revamped completely, believing that the amendments are mere patchwork. They also feared that a "Yes" would lead to a hasty presidential election, and that many non-mainstream parties would not have had the chance to establish their paths and platforms, and to promote themselves.

The educated are the ones leading this group. They are mostly in Cairo and other big cities, voicing their concerns in the media and social media. They heard one another but in reality did not reach ordinary Egyptians.

The "Yes" voters are formed of two groups. First are those who want this period of instability over. They believed the ratified amendments would return Egypt back to normalcy sooner than later. And they are relieved by the results.

But alongside the stability seekers in saying yes are the already prepared and quite developed parties -- for example, the Wafd Party, the National Democratic Party, but most importantly, the Muslim Brotherhood. They all have been in the political arena for years. And the Muslim Brothers, in particular, pursued the act of winning people over carefully and methodically.

Clearly, the "No" followers were unable to get their views out to the ordinary Egyptian. To establish a following, they would have had to work harder on promoting the causes they preach, widening their circle, and reaching the Egyptian on the street.

The Egyptians they want to pursue don't read about democracy on Twitter and Facebook; indeed, the "No" group would have had to follow Egyptians physically -- in the field, the factory, and rural Egypt. This is the only way to reach these people since one in every four Egyptians is illiterate. This means that over 20 million adult Egyptians can neither read nor write, let alone surf and browse.

By comparison, the Muslim Brotherhood was able to amass a substantial following. Not only did they appear in TV broadcasts and newspapers, but they also congregated, lectured, placed ads in newspapers, and alluded to the connection between saying yes and Islam. It is a democracy after all, and everyone is free to say what one wishes.

The Muslim Brotherhood had the means and the followers to put a good front and maybe even sway people to vote yes. It is quite clear that Egypt is an open field now for all players, and not only good strategy but also manipulation will play a prominent role.

All this leaves the "No" group in a predicament: how fast can they work to catch up with the prepared?

It is with great trepidation that I watch from afar.

via thetyee.ca

PS. This one took me quite a bit of time to finish since the situation kept shifting as the days went by. I hope I'm wrong in my skepticism.

Is Mubarak's regime still manipulating Egyptian politics? (March 14, 2011)

An affair between a Muslim woman and a Christian man set off a series of events that ended with the demolition of a church, the deaths of several persons, and most importantly an agonizing rise in hostility between Muslims and Christians across the nation.

From the start of the revolution, I was worried. I had a fishy feeling that things were not going to be smooth sailing as everyone predicted. I was concerned about the revolution's demands exceeding what could be accomplished; the truth getting lost, twisted, and embellished; the state of the economy; the sideline protests that seemed to be popping here and there; and the ordeals of the ordinary Egyptian on the street.

via thetyee.ca

In addition to the previous worries, I'm now worried about Mubarak's regime if not Mubarak himself.

How to tarnish a revolution (March 7, 2011)

In A Tale of Two Cities, Madame Defarge ferociously knits away names as the guillotine beheads one somehow-affiliated-to-the-monarchy person after the other. Her vindictiveness is in charge. Disturbingly, this is a recurring analogy in my mind when I think of the Egyptian revolution.

The euphoria created by the January 25 revolution was insurmountable. Egyptians celebrated by, once again, loving their country and one another. They enjoyed the moment with presidents and countries applauding them; Obama’s quote, "We should teach our children to be like the Egyptians," has resonated deeply in their minds. And they were proud. And they had every right to be so.

Nevertheless, too many things are happening now that can make or break this revolution. The first tarnishing hurdle lies in the aura of vindictiveness that seems to have captured the essence of the people and the media. It seems that everyone has become a watchdog ready to disclose and leak information, and in the process dispose of anyone linked to Mubarak's regime. No valid proof is necessary.

And the pillars of the society -- businessmen, politicians, administrators, and subordinates of those in the old regime are incriminated, humiliated, and destroyed sometimes by mere association. There may be truth in all this, but little has been proven or solidified.

I had thought that Egyptians are not revenge seekers by nature. I'm almost sure they aren't; however, they seem to be carrying the vendetta too far. In Dickens's A Tale of Two Cities, it was considered a capital crime "to mourn for, or sympathize with a victim of the guillotine." Are we going that far?

The second tarnishing matter is that the general mood in Egypt is "let's move on." Let's start producing, working, and sending our children back to school. Egyptians are fed up with the threat of crime, unsafe roads, demoralizing discussions, and risky decisions. Talk to cab drivers, retired folks, trades people, and the regular men and women on the street, and they will all tell you that democracy is being lost yet again. They had a dictator once, and now they have another voice coming from the square deciding for them how life should be. Their voice is not being heard, and the country is being controlled by one group in Tahrir Square still making more demands.

These tired and weary Egyptians have begun their own demonstrations in other parts of Cairo and are saying enough is enough. The word "Kifaya" means "enough," and during Mubarak's regime, "Kifaya" was a word used often; "Enough already; go." However, it is used now with a different connotation altogether.

The third tarnishing matter is seen in the amount of hearsay and fabricated stories circulating in the media, on Facebook, and publicly amongst folks. After Mubarak left, rumours had him go off food, refuse medication, be in a coma, die, fly to Germany to get treatment, fly to Saudi and the Emirates to export his money, and die again, all in a matter of two weeks. Rumours had his wife flee to London with 90 money-filled suitcases. It also had her sell unique Egyptian artifacts and treasures. As for the money that the family looted, it keeps growing by the hour until it has reached astronomical proportions that the normal Egyptian cannot fathom—70 billion. I've had ordinary Egyptians ask, "How much does 70 billion mean exactly?"

A wise Egyptian was rationalizing and hoping to get a clear answer. "Say I'm a greedy and unscrupulous Egyptian; what would I do with all that money? Buy 10 mansions around the world, each with its own set of cars; buy a couple of private planes; have lots of money sitting in Swiss banks, and, what the heck, let's throw in the Manchester United team." According to this Egyptian and the rumours, Hosni Mubarak would still be left with an incredible amount of cash. Many Egyptians don't know why he would need all this money. Then again, it’s all hearsay.

Then the impact of Facebook and other social media is huge. You don’t need to go on national TV anymore or be published in a newspaper. Go on Facebook. It has become a means by which one can spread views around the globe and back by merely pressing enter. Much of what is written is logical, documented, and verified by photos.

Still, much is hearsay and propaganda from one group against another. In this mayhem of news, truth has been lost. And those writing these comments are not really aware of how profound the effects are. A remark can easily break or make a nation at this point.

For this wonderful revolution to gain back its strength and rise above the current difficulties, it should return to its original theme: love of Egypt. As for Egyptians, to see the fruits of this historic and heroic event, they must refuse blind vindictiveness, stop listening and repeating illogical hearsay, and start listening to other Egyptians and taking them into account.

It is going to be a long journey.

via thetyee.ca

 

Egypt's armchair protesters (February 16, 2011)

The Tyee, by Azza Radwan Sedky 

[Editor's note: Dr. Azza Sedky, an instructor at Capilano University, spends her winters in Cairo. She sent this, her latest post, on February 15.]

He is an Egyptian-American who has lived in New York for over 35 years. In those 35 years, he has not been to Egypt once. Chances are he may never return to Egypt. Nevertheless, he cares about Egypt in his own way and wants to be part of the happenings. He forwards a barrage of e-mails on a daily basis, encouraging the protesters. He is an armchair protester.

She is a young Egyptian-American who lives in Washington, DC. She is quite affiliated to the youth movement, being an activist herself. She posts endless comments on Facebook out of devotion to Egypt. She is quite informed and knowledgeable about the happenings in Egypt, but her life is in Washington. Her visits to Egypt are sporadic and last two weeks at most. Though she participated in demonstrations in her hometown, and her intentions are to be applauded, she is still an armchair protester.

He is an Egyptian-Canadian who lived in Vancouver for over 30 years. Hungry for news about the Egypt he misses, he too forwards e-mails -- the e-mails encourage Egyptians in general, and the Tahrir Square group in particular, to continue towards their goal of freeing Egypt. He is an armchair protester.

These are three examples of the thousands of Egyptians who participate in the discussion about Egypt from their armchairs. They egged the youth on and are now ecstatic about how the events unfolded in Egypt. Their comments and e-mails are extremely patriotic and supportive, but let’s be clear: they will never be directly affected by a tumultuous Egypt.

They write from the comfort of their armchairs, in their comfortable cities, and in their comfortable worlds. If the Egyptian world tumbles, these folks will still go to work, make money, and enjoy life. True they would worry about family and friends back in Egypt, but in no way would they personally suffer the consequences. The active armchair protesters have even rallied in parks and walked in various demonstrations around the globe. Still, they went home to their comfortable chairs and comfortable cities.

I wasn't a blogger until two weeks ago; I had only 15 friends on Facebook, which I never opened unless I was nudged or poked—every two months at best. And I don't tweet. But since the Egyptian crisis, I have added many more friends to my Facebook and from them received a deluge of comments. That is in addition to the e-mails that jam my account.

I did a quick analysis of the comments and e-mails that I received on the Egyptian uprising to find that maybe 20 percent come from within Egypt. The rest are sent by Egyptians who live all around the globe but mainly in the US and Canada. This could be because I'm Canadian; hence, the people I know live in Canada, and the US too. I don’t doubt that Egyptian emigrants to Australia and Europe are reacting similarly and whatever applies to these applies to them as well.

The armchair protesters have good intentions; they have been exposed to a more democratic life, and they hope for a similar life for all Egyptians. They also provide moral support, which is definitely needed, but they are not at the forefront or on the ground. They will not suffer. If things get worse, they will not be affected by the Egyptian pound tumbling, properties plummeting in price, and insecurities playing havoc with their lives. They will still have jobs, properties, and security.

Do these armchairs protesters play a significant role in what happened and is happening in Egypt? Absolutely. Comments on Facebook make heroes out of protesters. Comments on Facebook demote ministers to thieves. E-mails are read in the square and direct the protesters in the path they take. No one can deny that this uprising is unique because of the role social media is playing—a topic for another dispatch.

But the armchair protesters can indeed play a crucial role. Maybe they cannot leave their comfortable cities, but they can assist in the rebuilding of Egypt from where they are. They must be proactive in their support.

For starters, they can come and spend their holidays in Egypt since the tourism industry will need years before it returns to normal. And in doing so, they can encourage non-Egyptians to come and visit too. They must also find worthwhile causes to donate to and organize campaigns for such causes.

By playing a real and fundamental role in rebuilding Egypt, the armchair protesters will have left their armchairs, stood up, and made a real contribution to the uprising.

via thetyee.ca

 

Cairo: The morning after (February 12, 2011)

Azza Sedky for The Tyee. 

It's the morning after and the street below is very quiet—it's only 8 a.m., and by Egyptian standards it is extremely early. In any case, Egyptians will sleep in today since everyone is exhausted and drained to say the least. They had partied throughout the night after 18 days of anxiety and aggravation, and after decades of fear and discontent provided not only by the previous regime but also by many previous ones.

What was achieved yesterday is indeed highly unachievable and unimaginable. The people, not the army, succeeded in ousting their president. The people wanted change and they got it. By all standards it is a success story.

The Tahrir youth started this move, but even they had no real hope that this could be the result. They dreamed on but believed it highly unlikely. Then it grew beyond their expectations into a full-blown uprising. And the more the regime erred and aggravated them, the more they persisted.

The "Facebook" youth, as they are also often called here, started it, but yesterday, Tahrir Square reflected a cross section of all Egyptians -- men and women, young and old, rich and poor, and educated and illiterate.

Earlier two groups had emerged: the anti- and the pro-Mubarak. The difference between these two groups is a mere fine line, although at face value they seem so starkly different. In all fairness, both groups wanted Mubarak to leave, but the pro-group wanted Egypt's safety more than Mubarak's resignation. They were worried about the country and where it was heading. If they were to choose between having Mubarak leave and total chaos, which is how they expected things to end, millions would have chosen to keep Mubarak. However, once he made the decision, the pro-Mubarak group was overwhelmingly relieved. And so they partied with all fellow Egyptians

And the party was a joyous, jubilant one. It lasted throughout the night with no one heeding the curfew. They celebrated by coming out to the streets chanting national songs and filling the air with shrills—festive shrills. They honked their car horns and waved thousands of Egyptian flags. People took photos of one another on tanks, and soldiers on armed vehicles picked kids up and hugged them for Kodak moments. Euphoria presided.

Egyptians were known to be quite complacent and accepting, not caring to pursue a cause or validate a right; very few voted and generally everyone found a way to avoid adhering to the law, especially traffic laws. But they seem to prove everyone wrong. They are keen and earnest, and they believe that with Mubarak gone, they can do wonders.

They can fix the failing systems: education and medical. They can overcome corruption, deception, and market monopoly. They can defeat "wasta." And wasta is networking but in a negative manner. If you have wasta, you can get things done. If you have wasta, you will get the best job while someone who doesn't have the same privilege, but may have even better credentials, would get nothing.

And the expectations these persevering youths have of themselves, their fellow Egyptians, and the country as a whole are quite amazing. The first Facebook message circulated today said, "Meet at noon in Tahrir Square to clean things." And soon afterwards, men and women were removing garbage and cleaning the square. This is startling in itself -- no one ever thought of cleaning debris or sweeping streets in Egypt before.

I received the following text message three times in a row from various sources. I’m relaying it as is: "You can help Egypt if you: buy local products; drive with good manners; stop shouting and learn to listen; spend ur vacation here; convince non-Egyptians to spend a holiday in Egypt; keep streets clean; donate unwanted stuff; open a brokerage account and buy local shares; try to help small entities to survive—koshks [kiosks] and local small shops; donate blood; vote in September; don't be part of the problem—if someone asks you for a bribe, don't enable them, but report them to their superior." A rather long text message that is providing telecommunication companies with a whole lot of business, but a genuine one nonetheless.

The obstacles are huge; the repercussion from those eighteen days will be enormous; hundreds of questions seem unanswered. However, with such clear messages resonating amongst the Egyptians, they may just overcome their difficulties.

via thetyee.ca

 

 
Thes two photos were taken from my fourth floor balcony in Heliopolis. The youth were cleaning up the street--a highly unusual scene in Cairo.

What do Egyptians want now? (February 6, 2011)

It is overcast—not too common in Cairo. A few specks of rain hit the window sill. Safia then puts her hands up towards the sky and says, "God, let it pour, so they get drenched and go home." Safia, my mom's caregiver, is 62 and illiterate. She recognizes numbers and calls on her mobile—that is the extent of her literacy. However, she seems to be voicing the sentiments of many, many Egyptians. A downpour would disperse the protesters in a way that would still keep them safe. No one wants them harmed, but many want them to disappear.

via thetyee.ca

Once I started, I couldn't get myself to stop. Writing became a way to vent and a way to keep sane. Looking back on this post, I was leaning towards acceptance and moving on. The Tahrir Youth proved me wrong in the end.

Egypt's people polarized (February 4, 2011)

This time round what got me going was the phone call conversation I had with my daughter in Vancouver. Midway through the call, she said, "Now that the Internet is back up again in Egypt, it is shocking to see how different the comments on Facebook are." This is very true. Friends, classmates, colleagues, peers, and people from the same sects and backgrounds are not thinking alike. How can that be?

Listening to the protestors' demands, and all the prominent figures who give themselves the right to speak out and condemn Mubarak, you would think that all Egyptians must be thinking in a similar fashion. "Mubarak must go," they exclaim. Listen to the pro-Mubarak group, and you would do a double flip; "Mubarak must stay," they exclaim. Are these people talking about the same leader? If so, what makes these people so different?

via thetyee.ca

Here is the second one round. It seems quite outdated now--written February 4, but these were my sentiments on that day.

Capilano U prof, in Cairo, skeptical of media coverage (February 2, 2011)

Via the Tyee, by Azza Sedky

The picture on the national Egyptian channel is of Cairo during curfew. The streets are totally empty except of tanks and armed vehicles. Cairo is indeed deserted—a very unusual sight for a bustling, chaotic , car-jammed city. Sometimes the screen is divided to reflect the empty streets on one side and the looters and pillagers who have been caught on the other side. Other times the picture is of the armed forces in a protective mode—a very eerie sight but comforting nonetheless.

Change channels and watch Al Jazeera, Al Arabiya, or even CNN, or BBC, and the picture changes. The scene is from Tahrir Square where thousands of Egyptian protestors are standing their ground calling for change. No depiction of the forces doing their job, of people abiding by the curfew, or of the looters getting caught.

And on all channels, the vivid wow scene becomes the most notorious, be it of a pro-Mubarak gathering, or of the other side, with protestors holding an explicit banner denouncing Mubarak or of a fallen victim lying in his blood. It all depends on which channel you watch. And these dramatic scenes are repeated again and again even days after the event has long come and gone. I’ve heard folks exclaim, "Is this happening again today?" They wonder and don't really know.

One can easily see that agendas change dramatically within the different circles. As the days pass, the Egyptian National channel begins to show the scene in Tahrir Square but from afar. It also begins to show the pro-Mubarak scene—those who are asking the protestors to calm down and see if the promised changes will occur. The other channels are still stuck on Tahrir Square, talking to protesters, estimating the numbers (and assuming them to be in the millions).

Indeed, Al Jazeera began encouraging and egging Egyptians to remain strong and continue their mission. It spoke to the opposition, with would-be leaders such as Al Baradei or Amr Moosa, and with the protestors in Tahrir, but it was adamant in not showing the ordinary Egyptian—the one who is fed up of all this and trying to return to normalcy. It also focused on shortages of bread, gas, and cigarettes of all things, a shortage I have not seen personally.

Egyptians have a saying, "John Doe wants a funeral where he can scream and shout." I've heard this saying many times in the last week from regular Egyptians describing other channels. The meaning is clear: channels are focusing on the negative to ignite the anger; in other words, normalcy does not sell or bring in viewers; normalcy doesn’t have a return. And this is the norm with media, but never has it been so clear and vivid.

I've never seen a scene depicted so differently. All the channels are portraying sides or versions of the truth but simultaneously making choices that indeed are crucial in the final version coming out, the one that reaches the Egyptians, and the outside world for that matter. And since Egyptians have been glued to the tv screen with curfew limited to 3 p.m., and the Internet out of commission, these different final versions have been playing havoc with the emotions of all Egyptians.

Is the media deciding how Egyptians think? Is the media fanning a revolt and playing a crucial role in making fundamental decisions that can indeed make or break a country? Do folks take these scenes as a given or with a grain of salt? Do some channels, Al Jazeera, for instance, have hidden agendas?

Egyptians had lived in a censored society in Nasser's time. In my twenties, I used to receive my letters -- romantic ones from my husband-to-be -- from abroad, opened and sealed with a printed note, "opened by the censor." Since my husband-to-be was quite outspoken, we were often followed during our outings.

That was then, but it remains ingrained in the Egyptian mentality. Now, and during the last 15 years in particular, and with the sudden openness to the world via satellites, channels galore, and the Internet, Egyptians are free to choose and evaluate what they see. But do they? Are they equipped to sift through the news and weed out the bias and prejudice? Is this influx of information playing a positive or negative role in their lives?

The end result is that Egyptians are living in a torrent of words and scenes. The bombardment is ongoing. I hope that the Egyptians are not going to be the losers in this mayhem.

Azza Sedky teaches in the Communications and ESL departments at Capilano University.

via thetyee.ca

This is the first article I wrote for the Tyee while in Egypt that winter.

Welcome

Welcome to my blog on Egypt. Although it will be written from afar, I have an inside look on the happenings in Egypt.

I spend my winters in Egypt, and while in Canada, I keep a close look on the happenings in Egypt.

I welcome your opinion on what I write.