Celebrating the Egyptian people's greatest victory - Part I

Yesterday ways the most specular day in the emotional rollercoaster which this country, it's people, my friends and me have jumped in (or been pushed in) 18 days ago on January 25^th. After the widespread anger and disappointment that Mubarak's speech on Thursday night had provoked, many people feared the worst: a violent, massive crackdown on protestors seemed possible. I for one was wondeirng whether this was another attempt to provoke the so far peaceful protestors to act violently in order to provide the justification for an even more heavy-handed response than we had seen in the first week of protests, this time including violence by the armed forces. A clash seemed nearly unavoidable as reportedly some 1000 people had moved to the presidential palace, called „Oruba“ situated in the district of Heliopolis, already night and many more were expected to march there the next morning.

On Friday morning, again, all appeared to be in the hands of the army, the three possible scnearios seemed:

1) The army stands back and allows people to gather and march to the presidential palace in even greater numbers.

2) The armed forces block the entrances to Midan Tahrir and prevent new people from coming in and make those who are already inside stay in place, so they cant move to the presidential palace and escalate the situation.
3) The armed forces topple Mubarak in a coup.

Which one was the most likely no one could tell, so my flatmate and me decided to brace for the worst. First thing on Friday morning (after having a look at alJazeera, twitter and facebook, of course) we went shopping in our area, buying huge amounts of water, bread, nescafe, sugar, matches, basically the things one needs to survive in Egypt. In the streets around our house everything went it's usual way, it was the same appearance of normality that had been irritating me already in the days before...

After we returned from our get-ready-to-survive-two-days-and-a-half-of-civil-war shopping tour, I gave an interview to the BR (local radio channel in Bavaria) via cellphone. Unfortunately I didn't do a good job in emphasizing how Egyptian's where divided, but in any case highly determined to make this a thoroughly peaceful and constructive revolution. The interviewer was not too interested in it. I don't know which part of the 10minute interview they sent eventually. In any case there was one outright lie in it: The interviewer asked me about my plans for the rest of the day and I stated we'd meet with an Egyptian friend and then decide what to do but most likely would not go to Midan Tahrir. At that point I was tending strongly towards going already, but I didn't want to seem an adventurous idiot.

Eventually I might be exactly this, but anyways....we went to downtown Cairo (which is the larger area around Midan Tahrir) shortly after noon prayers, entered via the backside of Midan Tahrir, got checked by an army officer, passed by several groups of people who where marching towards the television building, chanting slogans and waving Egyptian flags, and too a seat somewhere in the smaller passways of downtown, in a café called After Eight. We had some tea there and then moved on to Midan Tahrir, passing three checkpoints where volunteers checked our ID, our bags, and did a body-check that ressembled that of airport security, but in a much less effective way...

Once in Midan Tahrir we walked around, welcomed by some people, but in general I felt highly uncomfortable. Although a friend who had spent the last days at the Midan and the mother of a close friend, whose advice I highly trust, had told me it would be totally allright to go as a foreigner, I felt uncofmortable. I was not supposed to be there, because it was their revolution. It was as simple as that. Just think about it: how much was at stake for them? And how little for me? I can always leave Egypt … with my heart bleeding, but still: I can leave and find a home somewhere else. They can't. They were born on this soil, they wanna die on it, and by expressing their demand to live this life on Egyptian soil in dignity they risked dying by the hands of the regime.

So after having a look around, passing by the tents, the many signs, the many people who cleaned up, distributed bread and other food, we quickly sat down behind a tent with another German friend. Even she, who has spent the last three years in Egypt, is married to an Egyptian and considers Egypt her home was eager to keep a low profile. We sat behind a tent, visible only from two sides and nonetheless still drew some attention, which made me feel highly incomfortable. So after few time, I urged my flatmate and the Egyptian friend to eather leave with me or take me out of Midan Tahrir so I could make the way home on my own. They decided to join and we walked back to where we live. Over the bridge we excited the area many more people were streaming into the Midan, it was constant flow of people coming and going. People of all ages, women, men, children, some in suits, some obviously rather poor were moving away from or towards the Midan, the latter being able to buy popcorn, drinks, peanuts, and all other kinds of snack at an abundance of small stalls at the road leading up to the Midan, as if people were going to the movies. In general this seemed at many moments and sites more than a huge celebration, a social event for the whole family, rather than a political demonstration.

Once back home we returned to our usual routine and opened alJazeera, Twitter, Facebook, prepared to spend another eve and night in front of the computer and the tv.....