Before leaving the continent, I decided to go see my old friend Jared who’s now based in Cairo. It’s the three year anniversary of the revolution that toppled Mubarak, so there are sure to be stories to cover.
Descending on the flight, the air was thick with what appeared to be a sandstorm, but was actually normal Cairo air pollution. I arrived in a clean and modern airport, a far sight from the soviet-style setup in Tripoli. (Update June 21, which is now sadly destroyed by fighting in Libya). Jared picked me up in a taxi, I procured necessary supplies at duty-free, and he updated me on the current political situation. We drove to his place in Zamalek, passing by the hulking shell of the NDP building, and clean country clubs owned by the military.
He showed me around Tahrir, and some of the revolutionary murals and graffiti that encapsulate Egypt’s modern history.
Jared at mural wall
Mural at Tahrir
Oakland-Egypt solidarity
We spent a weekend in Alexandria, but returned early in the morning after hearing of a bombing targeting a police station, but destroying a museum of Islamic antiquities. We read the news on our phones that Jared felt he should be out covering, and discussed how this was likely to affect the tension on the street around the anniversary.
Gathering the crowd
His usual photographer and “danger buddy” was sick, so I donned his impact vest and we went to the protest by the revolutionary youth movement, not to participate but to cover it and show international attention and solidarity. The march smarted small, as many members were either arrested or killed in previous engagements. Brave young men gathered the crowd, increasing the energy and leading familiar chants. Other journalists milled around, waiting for the action to start.
One friend showed up frazzled, saying that he had been physically harassed by the police on his way by another protest, and told he’d be arrested if they saw him again. “It’s not worth getting killed for an anniversary.” The police no longer show any concern for free expression, and routinely disperse un-permitted marches without pretense.
Ash-shab yurid isqat an-nizam
As the march started, we stayed to the side and scanned for exit routes. We moved perhaps two blocks before we heard sirens, the acrid scent of tear gas and the pop of gunfire. Bolting down an side alley, we passed an old woman standing in her shop, spitting out the gas emphatically. We ran across to a main street, jumped in a taxi and sped back to the safety of Zamalek. Our friend later tweeted that he purchased a pro-Sisi poster and walked calmly through an otherwise hostile crowd.
Footage from AhramOnline
Leaving for the airport, I heard on the radio that General Sisi was promoted to Field Marshal, a rank usually reserved for those who command in combat. This was taken as a sign that he would run for President in the May election, which he would likely win. The promise of the Revolution of 2011 appears to be gone, and I hope that these brave young men and women have not died in vain. While the attention of the world media has moved elsewhere, there are some who are staying to cover the story.
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