'We All Know Our Way Back to Tahrir Square'

CAIRO - As much as the Egyptian military would like it otherwise, recent days have shown that they are a long way from exerting control over the country's affairs. The Egyptian people are not quite ready to put their dreams for a better future on hold nor have their pent-up frustrations put back into a box.

 

Certainly not since people's power just toppled a dictator thought invincible only a few weeks ago.

 

The street protests centered in Cairo's Tahrir Square have now spread all across Egypt, as labor unrest grows. Thousands of workers belonging to local units of the government-controlled Egyptian Trade Union Federation (ETUF), who largely work in the public sector, are even striking and protesting, right alongside their unorganized brothers and sisters in the private sector.

 

In addition, new independent unions are forming. The latter are determined to be democratically controlled by their members instead of by a government and state constitution that only recognized unions considered reliable and obedient to the ruling politicians.

 

The numerous strikes and protests are telling us that the people are not finished speaking. In the current climate, there is no question their voices will not easily be silenced by military threats to ban strikes, demonstrations, and even unions themselves.

 

It's not hard to understand why. Egypt's workers have suffered enormously under the country's long-standing neo- conservative economic policies of privatization and elimination of state social subsidies. The United States government, the International Monetary Fund, and the World Bank have promoted these policies since the days of Anwar Sadat, Mubarak's predecessor.

 

As a result, there has been a tremendous growth in informal sectors of the economy where workers have no rights, no benefits and no contract rights. One young man I met at downtown Cairo, Said, was working in this unrecognized part of the economy. He was an English teacher by day, but had to work evenings as a street vendor with his friends, other teachers I also met, to supplement his 280 Egyptian pound (less than $50) monthly salary.

 

This is not a unique example; actually, it is quite the norm. According to the AFL-CIO, 40% of Egyptians barely exist on $2 a day. This explains the startling statistic that between 2004 and 2008 there were some 1900 work stoppages and other forms of protest in Egypt involving 1.9 million workers. Obviously, the national uprising against Mubarak was a long time in the making.

 

Beyond Tahrir Square Understandably, with events moving so rapidly beyond Tahrir, I wanted to see if military efforts to clear the square of all protestors signaled a downturn in the movement.

 

So, I woke up early on Monday morning, February 14, and hurriedly rushed to Tahrir, a twenty-minute walk from my hotel through downtown Cairo, past the central Court Building (now open) and past the revered Egyptian Museum (still closed and guarded by the military).

 

Only the day before, thousands were still assembled in Tahrir despite warnings from the army to leave the area. But, as I got closer, I could not believe my eyes. For a moment I actually had a difficult time getting my bearings. On the previous two days after arriving in Cairo, I just followed tens of thousands all heading in the same direction and all arriving at the same location-a metaphor for the immense unity of a nation.

 

Now, remarkably, overnight, the center of Tahrir Square was completely empty. All the protestors were gone, the tents and medical triage centers torn down and all the makeshift barricades removed. In their place in the center of the square hung a very large banner reading: "Egypt is Now Happy!"

 

A few dozen smartly dressed, unarmed military police in red berets somewhat casually stood guard around the perimeter of this most sacred of areas. Only a few days before many thousands bravely stood their ground here against organized assaults by the police. Hundreds were killed and thousands injured in this square. Stories of those 18 days before Mubarak resigned are now a permanent and proud modern chapter of Egypt's incredibly rich history.

 

So how was it that, overnight, all this was gone? Even more important: What did it mean?

 

A Japanese journalist looked at me as we both gazed at the same scene. Shrugging, with both his arms extended upwards, he exclaimed, "It's over!"

 

I didn't think so. But I very much wanted to find answers to my questions.

 

I began walking around the perimeter of the square where I discovered several different assembled groups of around a dozen or more people. Some were praying at hastily erected altars honoring those who were murdered.  This was a very moving and sincere tribute where total silence was respected.

 

Other scattered groups were having heated and engaged conversations that could only mean, in today's Egypt, that they were talking politics. I approached one of the larger groups and began asking questions and, again, I found people ready to welcome me and ready to speak.

 

Of course, there were moments when someone would insist they would only speak Arabic. I would respond with a "thumbs up", showing that I recognized the pride people have in their own language and culture and we would both smile and leave it at that. On only a few other occasions, someone would ask, in Arabic, if I was a spy. They would warn those speaking to me that "Egyptians do not want the world to know our dirty laundry." But always the majority defended me.

 

Was it a good thing that the protestors left the square? I first asked a 27-year old well-dressed young businessman as he stood alone gazing out over the Square. "Yes, what we wanted came," he replied. "So why stay?"

 

Others echoed this view. "Yes, why not?" said 32-year old Mahmoud, an unemployed accountant who is now working as a chauffeur for a famous Egyptian academic. "I am glad the people made the changes in a system we had for 30 years. They did what we all wanted."

 

As I was taking notes, others began to come into our little circle and participate. The discussion group grew bigger and bigger. This happens all the time now whenever I stop to interview someone. It reminded me of a remark I had heard the day before, on Sunday, with Hamad, a 26-year old former soldier and unemployed teacher who also works as a street vendor.

 

"Before no one talked politics. Now we are free, everyone is speaking," he told me.

 

Hamad also had an opinion on leaving the square. "It is good to stay in the square because the protestors push our demands." This was Sunday, early afternoon. But by Sunday evening, support for that idea certainly dimmed after the army announced that Parliament was being dissolved, the hated Constitution abrogated and the ban on all parties lifted.

 

"The president is gone, the parliament is gone, and the constitution will be changed. No party is banned. Our émigrés are returning. Let's celebrate, clean up the square, and go home!" someone said in our group in very clear English.

 

So much had changed in just 24 hours. But it was clear to me that it was these concessions wrested by the movement from the military that emptied Tahrir Square and not any fear of government reprisals.

 

Day of Victory March Amr Taha, a 24-year old dentist who holds dual American and Egyptian citizenship, had now entered our conversation. He was one of the more experienced activists from the very beginning. Amr  was arrested while leaving a mosque on his way to a demonstration. "I was arrested for intending to demonstrate," he told me with a big smile on his face.

 

"A thousand of us were arrested on that day, January 28, but we all escaped from the prison a few days later when the police just disappeared." Later, Amr would show me a burned down police station near his mosque, one of many such examples of the people's fury toward the corrupt and brutal police.

 

Of course, there are still several important demands that have not been resolved, Amr emphasized. For example, protestors have written and spoken publicly about wanting all political prisoners released, the emergency decree in effect since Mubarak took office lifted, and a definite timetable from the military government for achieving these political and even other economic goals.

 

"By leaving the square, the people are giving the army the trust they earned by not attacking us, even though we all know they did close their eyes to some of the police brutality," explained Amr. "Anyway, if our demands are not addressed in a timely way, well, we all know the way back to Tahrir Square."

 

This is not idle talk. Protest leaders have called for a massive demonstration on Friday, February 18, the official day of rest in Egypt. Its size will be a test, once again, of the current power relationships between the movement and the army. I'm betting on the movement.

 

Suddenly, our talk was interrupted by people all around us laughing and cheering as four large buses honking their horns were seen quickly driving through traffic. The buses were full of young people sticking their heads out the windows smiling and shouting, "Thief! Thief! Thief"

 

Everyone knew what they meant. The dictator was gone and did not even deserve to be called by his proper name.

 

[Thanks to my friend Mark Harris in Portland for helping put this report together.]

 

[Carl Finamore is retired president of Local 1781 of the International Association of Machinists (IAM) at San Francisco airport. He is in Egypt with letters of introduction from his local union and the San Francisco Labor Council, AFL-CIO. Finamore can be reached at local1781@yahoo.com. While he is still in Cairo you can read his brief updates on Facebook.]

 

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An American Trade Unionist in Egypt: Cairo--Day One After Mubarak

 

By Carl Finamore

 

February 12, 2011

 

Published by Portside

 

CAIRO-I arrived at a nearly empty Cairo airport one day after President Hosni Mubarak resigned, an act thought unthinkable only 18 days ago. Over one million tourists left Egypt in the last week according to the country's press reports, so the hotels and streets were empty of visitors.

 

I, myself, was eager to see how a people's movement actually was able to forge such a powerful movement in such a short span of time. I was excited and exhilarated to be here.

 

I passed the presidential palace while on my way to downtown Cairo and heard the constant car horn honking by passing motorists celebrating Mubarak's departure. This gave me my first indication that I was entering a city super-charged with confidence and enthusiasm. I would see the same excitement throughout the streets of Cairo on my first day.

 

In particular, I noticed how informed people were, how willing everyone was to talk politics. Everyone seemed to have an opinion. There was an explosion of dialogue about what had happened and why it had happened.

 

And, I found out immediately that people were eager to speak with me, absolutely no hostility. This was different from the last several weeks as reported to me by a British educator living in Cairo. I bumped into him as we both shared a drink inside the bar of my downtown hotel, only a 20-minute walk from Tahrir Square.

 

"Today (Saturday, February 12), is the first day I actually feel comfortable outside," my British acquaintance explained. "Before, the government was trying to stir up anger against foreigners by blaming them for the demonstrations, and this gave thugs and police free range to harass us."

 

So, I was quite free to explore the scenes of Cairo only 24 hours after Mubarak left the scene and, most important, to observe the current thinking of the people. The most interesting aspect of coming to Egypt amidst this historic political awakening, for me, was to encounter the various trends of thought as people experience for the first time in their lives the ability to speak freely and to openly express their ideas.

 

With Mubarak's resignation on Friday, February 11, the army high command quickly declared that the "protestors had won" and that the country's profound social and political turmoil, therefore, must come to an immediate end. This undoubtedly strikes a chord among many Egyptians who genuinely believe the whole bankrupt regime, not just one despised president, has collapsed.

 

Notably, most Egyptians I spoke with believe the military has historically stayed out of politics, unlike the hated- police apparatus. Many Egyptians will also tell you that the army has not been tainted by the rotten legacy of corruption. "Our army is honorable, they are not business people," a 55-year old manager of a clothing store selling Guggi and other top brands told me.

 

Questions in interviews reflected my skepticism about the role of the army but, so far, I found general appreciation for the army alike by protestors in Tahrir Square, people in the adjacent poor neighborhoods, vendors and shopkeepers and numerous men and women I spoke with while I was walking around, including a distance away from Tahrir Square.

 

Unquestionably, decidedly favorable views of the military saved the whole bourgeois political and economic structure from imploding. In fact, the army was the only remaining institution under Mubarak that enjoyed any semblance of credibility in Egyptian society. Neither Mubarak, nor the Speaker of Parliament, nor the Parliament itself, and absolutely no sector of business whose crimes would make Al Capone envious, nor any of the docile legal political parties could have handled the transition.

 

Vice President Omar Suleiman, groomed to take over for Mubarak, was also thoroughly discredited by claiming Egypt was not ready for democracy. This infuriated a whole nation and within a few hours of Mubarak's attempt to cling to power, the old despot was gone and the army had superseded Suleiman's new powers. What Next?

 

From a variety of occupations and neighborhoods, the sentiment of the many protestors I spoke with is essentially that we must now begin to rebuild our country. The country is ours now, we want stability so we can build democracy and restore Egypt's economic power."

 

A young man in his early thirties who was a manager of an engineering firm across from Tahrir Square particularly emphasized this. He participated in all the protests, including being the first on his block to organize defense of the homes and businesses in the early days of the revolt, when criminal looters instigated by the government were on the loose.

 

The pro-democracy activists who want to remain in Tahrir Square until the decades-long state of emergency and other political reforms are implemented will be isolated if they stay, he told me. They don't represent the majority opinion. As we spoke in a caf,, his younger brother, a student; his sister, an artist; and their friend, a young Muslim woman who worked for an insurance company, were all in agreement.

 

When I asked why they would support the army so much and did not agree with continuing to occupy Tahrir Square, they all responded in unison talking over each other. It was a dramatic, emotional response and one repeated many times in interviews on my first day in Cairo.

 

"Yes, we want to get back to rebuild our country," declared the young manager. "But, we will return if we have to! Everyone knows and understands this, including the army. Our massive protests and the broad unity of all classes was a warning to them. If they do not rapidly safeguard our transition to democracy, if there are not genuine economic reforms, then we will return. We are no longer afraid. Hundreds have been killed and we do not forget their sacrifice. Our movement is incredibly deep. There were protests in 15 cities yesterday. This is why we belong at work now and do not have to be in the square." The Beloved Ground of Tahrir Square

 

The government, now under the firm control of the military, clearly wants to move as rapidly as possible to establish the stability they now proclaim as the country's most urgent need. At Tahrir Square I saw evidence of this when several dozen army troops began pushing and shoving protestors away from the barricades built several weeks ago during the worst of the police attacks. Hundreds of families with young children scattered, but a large core of obviously experienced protestors locked hands and urged people to stay. The message was, "It is our Square, where blood has been shed, we will not leave."

 

At the same time, all across Tahrir Square, hundreds of Egyptians could be seen sweeping and cleaning the beloved scene of their most valiant sacrifices and most profound victories. Something hallowed and honorable happened in Tahrir and really throughout Egypt, and it has deeply penetrated the hearts and minds of millions of Egyptians.

 

A 24-year old doctor, locking his arms with hundreds of other young people as the troops attacked only 25 yards away, refused to leave and was urging others to "Stay, don't worry, do not leave." He responded to my question of why Tahrir Square was being cleaned by simply turning the question back to me, "If your house is dirty, don't you clean it?"

 

My encounter with this young, brave doctor and his comrades in Tahrir Square revealed something important to me. First, deservedly, there is an extreme sense of pride by protestors for what they have achieved, leaving many to consider Tahrir Square as almost sacred ground. Second, they understood throughout their 18-day struggle leading up to Mubarak's resignation that it was only the growing size and public nature of the protests in the square that made the movement powerful.

 

There are many opinions now on the streets of Egypt. The seeming contradiction of wanting to get "our great country moving again" with the mass movement "wanting to maintain a public presence" is what spawns divided opinion in these first free hours on how to move the country forward. We shall see how majority opinion develops on these and other critically important political issues facing the future of the Egyptian revolution.

 

One thing is certain. The freedoms won in the last few weeks gives Egyptians the opportunity to democratically decide their future with a new confidence. The people are no longer afraid. No doubt that reality in itself must frighten those who long profited from the old regime, both in government and business, and who now may want to reestablish their own idea of "stability" in order to return to the past.

 

[Thanks to my friend Mark Harris in Portland for helping put this report together.]

 

[Carl Finamore is retired president of Local 1781 of the International Association of Machinists (IAM) at San Francisco airport. He is in Egypt with letters of introduction from his local union and the San Francisco Labor Council, AFL-CIO. Finamore can be reached at local1781@yahoo.com. While he is still in Cairo you can read his brief updates on Facebook.]