Egypt totters towards chaos

Pro-democracy and pro-regime demonstrators clash, journalists come under attack, and yet still the world wonders.

By STEVEN SOTLOFF
Tahrir Square 58 (photo credit: Associated Press)
Tahrir Square 58
(photo credit: Associated Press)
JUST OUTSIDE OF TAHRIR Square in Cairo, a group of people are arguing about the revolution gripping their country. A middle-aged man in a baggy sweater and a stubbly beard is furious. How can people expect Hosni Mubarak, who has ruled Egypt for 29 years, to forfeit the reins of power overnight? To send the 82-year-old leader packing would be humiliating, he says, spouting curses at the anti-regime protesters a few hundred meters away. A pro-democracy protester shouts back at the man: she has little sympathy for a dictator who has stifled freedoms and heaped oppression upon the people of Egypt.
Throughout the country, arguments such as this one – long considered taboo – are gripping a once docile population. And as millions of Egyptians have descended into the streets to demand that Mubarak relinquish power, the country has descended into chaos.
The protests began on January 25, when thousands of Cairenes took to the streets to demand Mubarak’s resignation. The demonstrations quickly gathered momentum throughout the country as the once-feared riot police were unable to rein in the protesters. Their failure lead the president to call in the army days later to contain the demonstrators, but the move only emboldened them as the military refused to fire on them.
Intimidated by the unprecedented demonstrations against the status quo, Mubarak made some early concessions. He reshuffled his cabinet and appointed the first vice president of his nearly three-decade-long reign. But he kept cronies in high positions and the moves did little to appease those who want a new beginning for Egypt.
The number of Egyptians peacefully standing up to the regime in Tahrir Square surpassed one million on February 1. That night, Mubarak once again ceded some ground, declaring he would not run for reelection in September. He vowed to “die on Egypt’s soil,” a statement which would play a role in changing the situation on the ground.
The following day, Mubarak’s supporters struck back, descending on Tahrir Square, charging into the crowd on horseback swinging whips and clubs at demonstrators.
THOUGH MILLIONS OF EGYPtians are frustrated with the lack of free speech and political rights in the age of the Internet, many others believe the movement against the regime is a foreign conspiracy promulgated by the foreign media. They took out their rage against anti-regime protesters and Western journalists. Over the course of the day, this reporter, standing on a bridge looking over the square, saw half a dozen Western journalists beaten severely. Reporters from major news organizations such as The New York Times, The Washington Post and ABC News were detained, arrested and harassed by Egyptian security services.
Many Egyptians are angry at the media, believing it has organized the unrest against Egypt to undermine the country. They are especially angry at the Arab channels Al Jazeera and Al Arabiyya. Their offices have been torched and ransacked, with their staff assaulted by virtual lynch mobs.
This reporter encountered the prevailing hostility towards Westerners. Stopped at a checkpoint, he was interrogated and forced to enter a covered pick-up truck full of what appeared to be police officers. I was led to a military installation for two hours during which I was handcuffed and a Kalashnikov was alternately pressed to my back and my head.
Egyptians outside yelled “Israeli” and “Jew.”
They told me I would be executed. After two hours, however, I was released after a short interrogation and taken to my residence.
In the power vacuum that has overtaken the country, the police have abandoned their posts and informal neighborhood watch squads have taken their place to protect their homes and businesses. They check identification and search cars, looking for looters.
In the affluent neighborhood of Mohandiseen, hundreds of pro-Mubarak supporters walked peacefully through the wide, four-lane avenues. When this journalist reached a neighborhood checkpoint, suspicious men interrogated me before leading me to an army base, where I was promptly released.
Following the withdrawal of the police from the streets and looting by escaped convicts and government-backed thugs, thousands of ersatz neighborhood checkpoints have emerged throughout the city to protect residences.
The vigilantism has unified neighbors, who were left to fend for themselves.
IN THE MIDDLE-CLASS NEIGHborhood of Doqqi, Ashraf, the owner of a small restaurant serves sandwiches filled with ful, a hot bean mash. Charred grease sticks to the high ceiling above. The health standards might be off-putting, but the aroma emanating from the beans is inviting.
“These protests are not good for Egypt.
Mubarak is a good man,” Ashraf says as he stirs the bubbling ful. “He doesn’t deserve this type of treatment in favor of a man who has spent most of his life outside Egypt.” The man he is referring to is Mohammed ElBaradei, the former head of the International Atomic Energy Agency, who has emerged as an international favorite to lead Egypt out of the chaos.
ElBaradei, a Cairo-born lawyer and diplomat who won the 2005 Nobel Peace Prize, has not lived in Egypt full-time for nearly three decades – almost as long as Mubarak has been president.
ElBaradei, who became a more prominent figure in the protest movement when he showed up in Tahrir Square to demand Mubarak’s resignation, has said that he might run for the Egyptian presidency when elections are held, presumably in September. In the meantime, he has suggested that a transitional government be formed.
“My idea was to establish a three-person presidential council,” he said in a Reuters interview on February 6. “At least you’d have one person from the military but you’d have a couple of civilians. You’d have a... proper caretaker government… you’d have a proper shift to democracy.”
The walk across the October 6 Bridge towards Tahrir Square offers a beautiful panoramic view of the Nile River. On one side sits a series of media and satellite studios, while on the other, the Egyptian Museum with its Pharaonic treasures and the charred remains of the ruling party’s headquarters. The building was set aflame during the first night of protests.
On February 2 in the afternoon, couples walked hand in hand as parents brought their young children to witness history. People waved Egyptian flags as vendors sold sandwiches and beverages. Taking a break from chanting anti-Mubarak slogans, 21-year-old Maryam is jubilant. “We are going to make change ourselves. We waited too long for this government to help us. It is now our turn and we will do what it could not.”
As the sun descended, the thugs emerged.
They rushed the square, attacking anti-regime protesters and Western journalists. They unleashed camels and horses on the crowd, trampling dozens. Their more restrained members yelled slogans such as “The people want Mubarak again!” and “Don’t go!” Printed signs were just as simple, reading “Yes Mubarak.”
By nightfall, the camps were digging in.
Numerous Western journalists were attacked.
This reporter was able to reach the square on the side where pro-Mubarak supporters had positioned themselves. They hurled rocks and Molotov cocktails against pro-democracy protesters as the military hunkered down in tanks.
The only response the army could muster was to occasionally spray water on the burned remains of vehicles that had been brought in to separate the two groups.
In a safer location, one man attempted to explain the Egyptians’ behavior. “They believe this is a foreign conspiracy here. Hizballah is breaking people out of prison. Hamas is smuggling goods. The Qataris don’t like us. All these people want bad things for Egypt.”
Although journalists were randomly attacked in Tahrir Square February 2, the next day saw more organized attacks. Pro-Mubarak supporters converged on a strip of buildings just off Tahrir Square that houses dozens of news organizations. They burned bureaus and assaulted journalists. This reporter was caught up in the fray when young men broke into a building and tried to storm into a news bureau.
With the army unable to offer protection, the Western journalists inside were forced to evacuate the building through fire escapes.
The regime has few answers for protesters who want a complete government overhaul.
The newly appointed vice president, Omar Suleiman, known to many Israelis as the point man in Fatah-Hamas talks, has made a series of concessions. Among the most important, he has offered to enter into immediate negotiations with the opposition parties to amend the constitution and pave the way for a more democratic political system. On January 6, the Muslim Brotherhood agreed to join in the talks.
In the streets, Egyptians alternate between anger, frustration and embarrassment. They are baffled as to how political violence in Egypt, which has never experienced the kinds of uprisings that have gripped other Arab countries such as Iraq, Syria and Yemen, could paralyze their historically stable nation. Even the bread riots of January 1977, in which thousands of economically strapped Egyptians protested the end of state subsidies on basic foodstuffs, were over in two days, and never touched on the bigger issues of democracy and freedom of expression.
Standing on a street corner in a wealthy neighborhood, 25-year-old Muhammad quickly takes a series of puffs from his cigarette.
“This is not Egypt. Someone is seeking to harm us. I can’t believe Egyptians would attack Egyptians.”
Many Egyptians share Muhammad’s sentiments.
But they are just as exasperated with a regime that has offered them little more than empty slogans and bureaucratic paralysis for the last 30 years.
“Maybe this revolution will bring something good,” Muhammad adds. “I don’t know. But today, it is not good. Too much trouble and no work.”
The instability has crippled the Egyptian economy, causing at least $3.1 billion in losses, with the key tourism industry all but drying up.
Offices are closed and shops shuttered. The daily staple of bread is sometimes hard to find.
Instead, many of the demonstrators appear to be virtually living on adrenaline alone.
While the round-the-clock protesters of Tahrir seem like they might never go home, other Egyptians are rattled by the violence – and beginning to crave a return to stability. Once the wave of euphoria passes and the stones stop flying, Egyptians will be faced with perhaps the toughest questions of all: not just who comes after Mubarak, but how to build the Egypt of their dreams.
presidential council,” he said in a Reuters interview on February 6. “At least you’d have one person from the military but you’d have a couple of civilians. You’d have a... proper caretaker government… you’d have a proper shift to democracy.”
The walk across the October 6 Bridge towards Tahrir Square offers a beautiful panoramic view of the Nile River. On one side sits a series of media and satellite studios, while on the other, the Egyptian Museum with its Pharaonic treasures and the charred remains of the ruling party’s headquarters. The building was set aflame during the first night of protests.
On February 2 in the afternoon, couples walked hand in hand as parents brought their young children to witness history. People waved Egyptian flags as vendors sold sandwiches and beverages. Taking a break from chanting anti-Mubarak slogans, 21-year-old Maryam is jubilant. “We are going to make change ourselves. We waited too long for this government to help us. It is now our turn and we will do what it could not.”
As the sun descended, the thugs emerged. They rushed the square, attacking anti-regime protesters and Western journalists. They unleashed camels and horses on the crowd, trampling dozens. Their more restrained members yelled slogans such as “The people want Mubarak again!” and “Don’t go!” Printed signs were just as simple, reading “Yes Mubarak.”
By nightfall, the camps were digging in. Numerous Western journalists were attacked.
This reporter was able to reach the square on the side where pro-Mubarak supporters had positioned themselves. They hurled rocks and Molotov cocktails against pro-democracy protesters as the military hunkered down in tanks.
The only response the army could muster was to occasionally spray water on the burned remains of vehicles that had been brought in to separate the two groups.
In a safer location, one man attempted to explain the Egyptians’ behavior. “They believe this is a foreign conspiracy here. Hizballah is breaking people out of prison. Hamas is smuggling goods. The Qataris don’t like us. All these people want bad things for Egypt.”
Although journalists were randomly attacked in Tahrir Square February 2, the next day saw more organized attacks. Pro-Mubarak supporters converged on a strip of buildings just off Tahrir Square that houses dozens of news organizations. They burned bureaus and assaulted journalists. This reporter was caught up in the fray when young men broke into a building and tried to storm into a news bureau.
With the army unable to offer protection, the Western journalists inside were forced to evacuate the building through fire escapes.
The regime has few answers for protesters who want a complete government overhaul.
The newly appointed vice president, Omar Suleiman, known to many Israelis as the point man in Fatah-Hamas talks, has made a series of concessions. Among the most important, he has offered to enter into immediate negotiations with the opposition parties to amend the constitution and pave the way for a more democratic political system. On January 6, the Muslim Brotherhood agreed to join in the talks.
In the streets, Egyptians alternate between anger, frustration and embarrassment. They are baffled as to how political violence in Egypt, which has never experienced the kinds of uprisings that have gripped other Arab countries such as Iraq, Syria and Yemen, could paralyze their historically stable nation. Even the bread riots of January 1977, in which thousands of economically strapped Egyptians protested the end of state subsidies on basic foodstuffs, were over in two days, and never touched on the bigger issues of democracy and freedom of expression.
Standing on a street corner in a wealthy neighborhood, 25-year-old Muhammad quickly takes a series of puffs from his cigarette.
“This is not Egypt. Someone is seeking to harm us. I can’t believe Egyptians would attack Egyptians.” Many Egyptians share Muhammad’s sentiments.
But they are just as exasperated with a regime that has offered them little more than empty slogans and bureaucratic paralysis for the last 30 years.
“Maybe this revolution will bring something good,” Muhammad adds. “I don’t know. But today, it is not good. Too much trouble and no work.”
The instability has crippled the Egyptian economy, causing at least $3.1 billion in losses, with the key tourism industry all but drying up.
Offices are closed and shops shuttered. The daily staple of bread is sometimes hard to find.
Instead, many of the demonstrators appear to be virtually living on adrenaline alone.
While the round-the-clock protesters of Tahrir seem like they might never go home, other Egyptians are rattled by the violence – and beginning to crave a return to stability. Once the wave of euphoria passes and the stones stop flying, Egyptians will be faced with perhaps the toughest questions of all: not just who comes after Mubarak, but how to build the Egypt of their dreams.