Full text available at: http://iwpr.

net/report-news/pride-and-expectation-tahrir
-square
Pride and Expectation in Tahrir Square
Thousands descend on central Cairo, hoping, chanting and praying for change.
By Daniella Peled -
1 Feb 11
Cairo is on the streets, its usual traffic jams replaced by streams of people gr
avitating towards the central Tahrir Square. The army make sporadic attempts thr
oughout the day to block the roads leading up to it and state radio broadcasts s
ombre announcements of an ever-earlier curfew. But no-one takes any notice.
It seems that nothing can stop this mass surge of people, a movement that began
spontaneously, sparked by the young middle class but which has gathered a true c
ross-section of society and which still has no clear leaders. What unites them i
s one clear aim – they want Hosni Mubarak, the president of Egypt for the last 30
years, to leave - and for free and fair elections to take place.
They have been on the streets for a week now, with Tahrir - “Freedom” – Square the foc
al point for their protests, where workers and academics demonstrate alongside s
ecular Cairene liberals and bearded men with the characteristic “zabiba” (raisin) ma
rk on their forehead from repeated contact with their prayer mats. I meet Christ
ians, Islamists, young women, family groups, parents bringing their children to
witness a historic moment. One enterprising chap has even set up a stall selling
wafer biscuits and sesame snacks to the crowds.
People mass in groups across the square, waving homemade signs, hand-written scr
aps of cardboard and computer printouts reading “This is Egypt”, “Game Over”, or more su
ccinctly, “Fuck Mubarak”.
It’s something short of a carnival atmosphere – not only are the issues at stake too
serious, but as much as the crowd chants “The people, the army, with one hand” and
as enthusiastically as demonstrators try to clamber up on tanks to embrace the s
oldiers, the military presence has a certain sobering effect. No-one is yet quit
e sure how this will turn out, after all.
But there’s an overwhelming feeling of expectation and national pride.
The crowd is desperate to tell foreign journalists not only that they hate Mubar
ak and want him overthrown, but that they are not violent criminals. More than 1
00 people have been killed nationwide, but since the police melted away after a
day of confrontations last Friday, Cairo has seen only sporadic clashes between
the security forces and protesters. Self-styled vigilante groups have even been
formed to patrol the city’s streets after dark and protect them from looters.
“Our revolution is a peaceful one, you are a foreigner, don t you feel safe?” asked
Habib Adli, a lawyer.
“Please show to the world that Egyptians are not stealing,” interjected another. “We j
ust want our country back! See the shops, we could have broken the glass but we
didn t.”
Indeed, the Kentucky Fried Chicken on Tahrir Square has been left unscathed, apa
rt from some anti-imperialist graffiti, though a MacDonald’s around the corner has
n’t been so lucky.
Cairenes themselves are amazed by the transformation they have seen in their cou
ntry in just a few days.
“Young people want jobs, they want to marry, they want to eat, they want the right
 to declare what they want,” said Hela Badri, a 55-year-old writer. “And they have c
hanged everything.”
“On Friday afternoon I saw men in their twenties confronting the police, opening t
heir shirts to invite the police bullets,” marvelled Mohamed Kalfat, a 29-year-old
translator. “The direct confrontation with the police was a revenge for 30 years
of torture and oppression.”
A self-confessed Marxist, Kalfat nonetheless says he welcomes a pluralistic gove
rnment that includes all sectors of Egyptian society, even the political Islamis
ts.
“People are disillusioned with the promises of the regime,” he said. “How we need to r
eplace it is to include everyone, including the Muslim Brotherhood. They are not
al-Qaeda - they are very different and include a wide spectrum of Islam.”
Night falls and still the people keep on coming to the square, defying the curfe
w, wrapping themselves in the Egyptian flag and refusing to budge.
“I can smell democracy” said a fellow journalist, wryly. All I can smell is the acri
d smoke from the still-burning national party building catching in the back of m
y throat. But I know what he means. Things here have reached a point from which
there is no going back.
Daniella Peled is an IWPR editor.