Tag: #jan28

I wrote this posting when I came back home on Friday 28 January. I couldn’t publish it then because the government was still blocking the net:

I saw everybody today. Men, women, Muslims, Christians, young, old, veiled, unveiled, Salafis with beards, young hippies in googles and colored scarfs. I bumped into relatives, and friends I never expected to see in a protest. Welcome to the Egyptian revolution.

No one knew how the day was going to turn out. After blocking sites like Twitter, Facebook and bambuser for a couple of days, the regime moved, taking the internet completely down on Thursday night, and mobile phones network early morning Friday. In the streets, already the Central Security Forces (CSF) were launching a war against the protests, cracking down with full force on the protests since Tuesday. Many of us, including myself, felt great fear. With the govt shutting off Egypt from the rest of the world, I expected some massacre will take place against protesters, whose news will go unnoticed for a long time before it reaches the end of the world. My fear was not that the shutting down of communications will disrupt the revolt. Almost everyone I spoke to in Cairo and other provinces said he/she will take part. And what brought some peace of mind was a confirmation I received on Thursday night about the expected level of participation in the following day’s protests. There was something in the air brewing for months if not the past few years.

I was at Raba’a el-Adawiya Mosque few minutes after the end of the Friday prayers. I neither took my car nor my camera. Just my dead mobile phone. When I arrived at the mosque, there was this smell in the air, that reminds me somehow of “Chipsy with Vinegar.” Though I couldn’t see anybody, but the smell of tear gas was strong. I asked a kid standing in the street. “Where is the protest?” He pointed at the Mobil Gas station, where some crowds could be spotted, but I couldn’t be certain about any numbers or what was going on then.

I ran to the protest location, to find roughly five thousand protesters gathered, chanting against Mubarak, clashing with CSF officers and soldiers, and plainclothes officers. The clashes did not last long. And we started talking to the soldiers and the officers. They were so demoralized. We kept on accusing them of being “Israelis”. They kept shouting: “We are following orders.” It didn’t take long and we were in conversations with the soldiers, who were all so nervous.

We started marching down Youssef Abbas Street, towards the airport road (Salah Salem road). The troops ran after us, but did not attack us. As soon as we reached Salah Salem road, the troops moved and blocked the road in the direction of Heliopolis. Why? That’s where Hosni’s presidential palace lies. (I heard later from people in that protests broke out in the area and some managed to get close to the palace.) We turned left and moved towards Abbassiya. We didn’t care about Heliopolis. The protesters who were slowly growing in numbers, all wanted to reach Tahrir Sq.

The march continued, and was growing in size rapidly. From the initial three thousand, we were already at least to 20,000 when we reached the Nour Mosque area in Abbassiya. The solidarity from citizens was amazing. People were cheering us from the balconies, throwing to bottles of water and onions (for the tear gas) to us. We kept on shouting “Enzel! Enzel!” (Come down, come down) and many responded to the call. Those who took part in the protests came from all social classes. There were urban poor, workers, civil servants, middle class professionals, and even some of the sons and daughters of the Egyptian elite. Some guy suddenly showed up in front of the march, with his car that was covered with Zamalek stickers, carried some of the protesters on top of his car and started driving ahead of us to scout whether police troops were waiting in hiding for us in Salah Salem. Another man, who obviously looked poor, driving a Vesba, also kept going back and forth with his motorbike, scouting the area and advising us on where the troops were.

As soon as we arrived at Nour Mosque, a battalion of CSF that was deployed in the area, quickly formed a line blocking the road. We continued marching, chanting: “Selmya! Selmya!” (It’s a peaceful protest! It’s a peaceful protest!). A CSF captain approached us together with a lieutenant who was carrying what looked like a shotgun, and seemed willing to negotiate. They couldn’t have stopped us and they knew it. We were, for a change, ten times bigger than them. In two mins, we were granted access and the conscripts opened the line. We kept on hugging and kissing the conscripts, exchanging words: “We are your brothers. Don’t shoot us. We hate Mubarak and we know you hate him too. We don’t like the officers and you don’t. Join us.” The conscripts, their eyes red with tears because of the tear gas they were firing, replied back: “We were just following orders. We hate what we are doing. We hate Mubarak. He destroyed our lives. We are your brothers.”

I was watching the ministry of interior’s army collapsing.

We continued marching. We had no leader. There was a group of youth in the beginning, not part of any organization, who were forming human chains to either force the march to take a certain direction (left or right, not go up the bridges), or human chains in the front of the march to lead the attack on the police lines and shield the older protesters behind them.

Whenever the crowds passed by a church, the chants went up right away: “Long live the Crescent and the Cross!” and يا محمد قول لبولس بكرة مصر تحصل تونس “Hey Muhammad, tell Paul, tomorrow Egypt will join Tunisia!” People were cheering us from the balconies. Demonstrators were chanting for a “revolution in Egypt’s streets” and singing the first verse of the Tunisian national anthem. Needless to say, the most common slogan of the day was the Tunisian one: الشعب يريد إسقاط النظام”

By the time we reached Ghamra we were at least 50,000. This is not an exaggeration. You couldn’t see the end of the march in such a long avenue like the one we were on. At Ghamra, already several thousands were in a battle with the CSF ahead of us. They cheered our arrival, ran in our direction, exchanging hugs and handshakes. In Ramses Sq, already the CSF was fighting on all fronts. They were trying to hold us back (in Ghamra) by a shower of tear gas grenades, rubber and BB cluster bullets. At the same time they were fighting groups of other protesters around Fateh Mosque, Gomhorriya Street, and the railway station. The battle lasted for an hour since we arrived at the scene, but already the troops have been fighting for at least three hours with the other protesters. For an hour, it was attack, retreat, attack, retreat, amid clouds of tear gas, and bullets flying around us. Suddenly the CSF started retreating in a hurry, and jumping into their trucks and armored vehicles. We ran towards Ramses. Thousands and thousands, chanting against the police and Mubarak. Protesters set a Municipality Police car and the Police kiosk in the square on fire. Then came a hail of rocks to follow the retreating armored trucks that was fleeing the scene. With my own eyes, I saw one of the shabab, picking up a tear gas grenade freshly shot by the CSF, running towards the armored vehicle that shot it, forcing its door open, and throwing back the grenade inside the vehicle and closing its door on the officers inside.

The march headed to Gomhorriya St, where more clashes happened with the police, before the police once again u-turned and fled the scene heading to Tahrir Sq. We were faced by another battalion later near 26 July Street. The battalion was already drained in clashes with earlier protest groups in downtown. The confrontation between us did not last for long. The battalion completely collapsed, with the CSF conscripts cheered and hugged. We didn’t waste a single chance to talk with the soldiers and agitate them to break the ranks. They were very sympathetic.

Bloody clashes ensued between us and another battalion guarding Talaat Harb Square. The officers and soldiers were showering us with tear gas grenades non-stop. And every few mins, an armored vehicle would charge in our direction, while a shielded soldier on top shooting us like ducks with rubber bullets and BB bullets. Everybody was injured. I received a spray of BB bullets in the arms, chest, neck and left leg. But I was more fortunate, other protesters received this hail in the face and were down on the ground in pools of blood.

Downtown was a war zone in every sense of the world. Protesters set up barricades and set fire to tires, to block the roads in the face of the armored vehicles. Protesters in scenes similar to the Palestinian intifada were throwing rocks at the police, running in the side streets to take shelter from the bullets and tear gas grenades. The residents in downtown were sympathetic. Some of them took us in on several occasions to hide us from the police.

I don’t know how long the clashes lasted for, before we saw the CSF once again, retreating, to Tahrir. We took over Talaat Harb. People were chanting in joy, feeling like an army that had gained a new ground. People climbed the statue, and the chants did not stop against the police, Mubarak and the NDP. In no time, the battle for Tahrir started, and this was the bloodiest. The police was determined to keep the protesters away from that square, the biggest in Cairo, and witness to several mini revolts in the past. Moreover, from Tahrir, you are few meters away from the parliament, the NDP main HQ, the US and UK embassies, as well as the interior ministry.

After running battles and clashes, the protesters took control of Tahrir Square at exactly 6:35pm. By then other marches coming from Giza managed to join in. We didn’t have any idea about what’s going on in the rest of Egypt. But already news were trickling via protesters who arrived in Tahrir from other provinces, assuring us that protests were EVERYWHERE!

The protesters tried continuously to reach the parliament to take it over. But a CSF battalion for hours kept on firing tear gas continuously and rubber bullets. Protesters were everywhere in Tahrir. Those who went to the cornich set the NDP main HQ on fire, and immediately protesters formed a human chain to protect the gate of the neighboring Egyptian Museum. Their counterparts in Tahrir by then had already set an armored vehicle on fire, from where CSF was shooting rubber bullets, and burned another CSF truck.

Rumors ran in Tahrir that Mubarak ordered the army to descend in the streets. How did the protesters feel towards the army? On several occasions since I joined the march in Nasr City, and till we reached Tahrir, some protesters were calling on the army to intervene and “protect them from the police” like what happened in Tunisia. And when tanks showed up in Tahrir speeding towards Garden City to protect the US and UK embassies, many protesters cheered their arrival. But at the same time, I also witnessed several occasions where the protesters intervened with anger against those who were chanting for the army, shouting: “Well, hasn’t the army been ruling now since 1952? Aren’t they responsible for the Egypt we have today? Didn’t they kill protesters in 1977? Who gave them the orders to intervene, Mubarak, right?” All those were questions and arguments that broke out on several occasions. Moreover, sometime past 7pm, Military Police jeeps appeared in Tahrir, heading towards the parliament. The protesters stopped them. The jeeps fled, but the protesters managed to commandeer one of the jeeps, and kicked out the soldiers, only to find boxes of ammunition inside. Protesters took the jeep, and started roaming around Tahrir, to the cheers of everyone, and then even used the jeep to try to storm the way into the parliament at some point. Finally, the jeep was set on fire. Later a military helicopter kept on circulating above our heads in Tahrir, but they didn’t fire. Some protesters were cheering, and others were shouting insults.

By the time I left Tahrir, around 8:30pm, there was NOT a single army soldier present there yet. I was totally drained by then. I’ve been out all day, didn’t get anything to eat, was shot at, tear gassed and lost my voice completely after chanting for hours. I left Tahrir, and walked to Talaat Harb, where protesters were still occupying the square, singing, talking politics, discussing what tomorrow would bring. There was a great sense of fraternity. We all felt like brothers and sisters, sincerely. People were exchanging their water bottles with strangers, protecting one another, exchanging jokes and cigarettes, providing whatever medical help was possible for the injured. As I limbed my way to Opera Square, hoping to catch any cab or microbus, people were padding on my shoulders, asking me if I was ok, offering water. I never appreciated water like today.

I kept on walking till I reached Ataba, and that’s when I first encountered the army. Two military police soldiers (I think one of them might have been a corporal. I’m not sure) were standing in the square, surrounded by citizens. The soldiers were armed with kalashnikovs, but they were politely talking to the citizens, assuring them they are there to protect them from the police.
“So you are everywhere now?” asked one young man.
“Yes” replied the corporal.
“You won’t let them (police) shoot at us, right?” asked the young man again.
“Yes. We are your brothers. We will never let the police shoot at you.” replied the corporal.
“But you are not going to shoot at us instead, right?”
“Of course! Of course! We can never do that.”
I got into the circle, and aggressively asked the corporal, “Aren’t you out now in the streets based on orders from the Military Governor, who is Mubarak?”
“We are here based on orders from the minister,” replied the corporal, politely I may say.
“Which minister?” I asked.
“The minister of defense.”
“The minister who was after all appointed by Mubarak?”
“Listen, we are your brothers.”
“We want Mubarak to go, and we’ll keep protesting till he goes, so are you going to be with us?”
“We don’t like the situation of the country, just like you.”
And that’s when the other soldier intervened: “We are an army. No army in the world can shoot the people.”
I turned to him, and told him. “Ok, we are protesting tomorrow. And we’ll see about that. I hope you are right.”
“Yes, go and demonstrate and you will see.”

I left Ataba, and continued walking towards Al-Azhar, still can’t find a cab. The road was covered in broken glass, rocks. And in front of Al-Azhar mosque, I saw the protesters dancing around a burnt down police kiosk, which they moved to block on side of the street. Close to the scene, small shop owners in the area gathered in front of their closed shops, and were discussing plans to have rotating shifts in the night to guard their property from any sabotage.

I kept walking till I reached the Salah Salem road, and after walking (or rather limbing) for roughly 15 mins, I bumped into some young man who asked me about any bus stations nearby that could take him to Nasr City. I told him I was looking for one too, so he joined me. We exchanged stories about the protests today, and then the man went off: “We need a general strike. We need to stop everything in the country. Imagine no buses, trains, no nothing. We will bring them (the regime) down right away.” I of course couldn’t agree more. And enthusiastically engaged in a discussion with the young man, only to find out he’s a lorry driver, and took part in the recent national strike by lorry drivers.

On our way back, the cab passed by the Egyptian Army Central Command in Nasr City. Tanks were deployed, with machine guns. The military police was present and was diverting traffic to Ard el-Golf in Heliopolis. The ride turned into one hell of a discussion, where the driver was shouting with enthusiasm, using the most foul words. “Mubarak is a pimp. He’s a son of a whore.” He’s this, he’s that, … I told him I took part in the protests and shared some stories and updates with him. He was particularly interested to know what slogans were chanted today, and he received them with great amusement and laughter.

The cab dropped me at the beginning of Abbas el-Akkad street. There were protests taking place already and ongoing battles between a battalion of CSF trying to defend the Nasr City 1st Police Station, and protesters determined to set it on fire. Tear gas was all over the place. The young protesters were shouting: “This is a dirty government! Fuck you Hosni Mubarak,” while hurling rocks on the troops. But few mins later, army carriers with tanks loaded on board appeared, speeding fast down the Autostrade. Some protesters once again chanted in support, while others hurled abuse at the army.

It was only when I arrived home sometime after 10pm, that I managed to get to watch Al-Jazeera, to confirm what we’ve been hearing the whole day, that protests were ALL OVER THE COUNTRY. Half a million protesters in Alexandria set the governorate’s headquarters on fire, Tens of thousands in Daqahliya burned down the State Security Police station there, more than 100,000 protesters took to the streets in Mahalla. Demonstrators burned down the NDP office in Damietta. Protests continue in Sinai. Interestingly also, Al-Jazeera reported that Vodafone outlets were attacked in several towns by protesters who accused the company of conspiring with the Egyptian government to bring down the phone network. Actually it is a crime that also Mobinil and Etisalat are involved in, and should be punished for. I watched solidarity protests in the Arab World and Europe. I can’t describe the thrill.

Mubarak and Obama gave shit speeches, where the first said he’s not going anywhere, while the latter as always gave useless empty statements. Cairo, Alexandria and Suez are under curfew till 7am on Saturday. But that’s meaningless. Already protesters are still stationed at Tahrir Square and groups of youth are still clashing with the police in several areas.

I hope the people don’t fall for this army option. The army cannot be an alternative. Mubarak’s reign is over. He is stupid not to have taken the chance to flee today and apologize.

I’ll stop here for now. There are millions of things I wanna write about it, but I gotta get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day of protests.