This is my personal report of how I experienced the revolution in Egypt. I wrote the first part of the text during the revolution, days before the president’s resignation. It is dated 7 February 2011:

Turbulent days lie behind us and the revolution is still ongoing. At least, internet is back and phones are working. Today the city has returned to a sort of normal life, with the usual restrictions that come with any revolution such as blocked off roads around Tahrir Square and a curfew. No one is sure about the curfew though, whether it is still on and during which times.

After all, there are some policemen in street corners and on junctions again. Nobody’s taking them seriously anymore as they had vanished for days while things ran hot. Dressed in plainclothes, they had mixed in with normal folks and tried to instigate anger and strife and looting, as they had been amongst those attacking Tahrir Square on 2 February.

So, they are back now in their uniforms and they pretend that everything’s alright, though, in the last few days, many police stations have gone up in flames and policemen have been beaten up. By now the people have become clear that they won’t take any more bullying by those guys. The guys in uniform are even less liked now than before. The people despise them, their anger barely repressed. They just about tolerate them. And the policemen take care not to provoke anyone. They just came back to their positions on junctions and nicely started to direct the traffic. They know they better won’t bother anyone.

Admittedly, some people liked to see the police come back. The usual presence of black uniforms in the streets is normal to us, and we all wish for a bit of normal life after these tiring days. Some people even voiced the opinion that the return of the police signifies that ‘someone finally’ is going to bring back peace and quiet. Well, these people have forgotten that just a few days ago these policemen all had suddenly vanished (having been ordered to go) and that they had left us alone in the upcoming chaos.

In the two days after the battle at Tahrir Square, when police in plainclothes mixed with people on the streets, it was difficult to tell good guys from the bad. Having them back in uniform makes it easier for us to understand who we are dealing with, although one cannot be too sure about that either, since the secret police have always been dressed in plainclothes infiltrating everything anyway. So, one cannot tell for sure who is who at the next road block or on the sidewalk.

Police has never served to protect us. The last days really have proved to us that we can do without them. It was unbelievably beautiful to witness the fast developing capability for self-organisation in the neighbourhoods. People just directed the traffic themselves at junctions; many volunteers took over that job for a few hours.

The people’s defense squads were better than any police protection. The government had simultaneously ordered the withdrawal of the police and the opening of the prisons, releasing murderers and thieves to provoke looting. Some of the policemen also took part in the ensuing unrest, as was proven later.

The first night was dreadful for all of us: bad news all over the place, screaming and fighting, shooting, fire. We felt terribly exposed. A lot of flats were broken into, stormed and looted. It hit the poor and rich. The government might have hoped to divert the people’s attention by this chaos from the protesting and the injustices committed by the regime. Instead, the neighbourhoods got organized.

Adventurous armed boys and men held vigil on the streets at night. The people suddenly had become aware of their own power. A system was established quickly, in which each short stretch of road was controlled by one group. The groups were in contact by a patrol so that they all knew which passers-by were moving about in the area. The men took turns to stand guard and created shifts, so that everyone could get some sleep at least. It was quite astonishing.

In the daytime no one would leave the house without a weapon, be it a pocket knife, a spray bottle with a lighter, a bamboo rod or a club. Everyone was prepared to defend themselves.
Within two days the situation calmed down. Lots of criminals and looters had been caught by the people and had been handed over to the military police. The mood lightened and people radiated a happy confidence in the future, since they had been able to do something, to move something, to bring about change. One would suddenly see normal citizens clean the streets. What an astonishing display of responsibility!

This development had been preceded by the uprising of the Tunisians some weeks before and the abdication of Ben Ali. The Egyptians had followed these events closely. The revolution in Tunisia had started as a young man had burned himself there publicly. In Egypt, sadly, three people had desperately followed his example. Nevertheless, although this had caused great concern, Egypt still remained quiet for a while.

The ‘Police Day’, 25 January, would change this. The government had invented this day two years ago to celebrate the police, or to make the people accept the repressive police system with more joy because of an extra day off. It was noticeable, though, how cynically people had always pronounced the words ‘Police Day’.

Things simmered under the surface after the events in Tunisia. Lots of demonstrations had been announced for this day. It was very clear, that this time it would not be a day off for the police nor a day on which the people would celebrate the police.

Thousands of especially trained ‘riot police’ (or ‘inner security’ in Arabic) had been posted in downtown in order to disperse the expected demonstrations. These policemen wear helmets and wieldclubs and large acrylic shields. Like an army they stomp on the ground in unison with heavy boots, creating a chilling sound. They accompany each demonstration, ready to follow their superiors’ orders blindly. That might mean to just stand by, to block or to hit and destroy. Everyone who has ever attended a demonstration in Egypt knows this scary black mass of empty eyed policemen. They cause goose pimples just by their overpowering authority.

This time though, the riot police could not hold back the masses anymore. The people wanted to get their voice heard. The riot police’s brutal reaction caused a wave of protests and street fights in Egypt. The people’s anger and frustration exploded into wild demonstrations and fighting. The people had suddenly given up their fear and had started an uprising.

25 January was renamed the ‘day of rage’. This day started the revolution in Egypt. During the next days, one could feel a strange tension in the air. We were unsure where things would lead. Would the lazy Egyptians have enough with one protest and just return to daily life? Would it again become the underground opposition’s task alone to criticize the regime, or would everything continue?

The police had used utmost brutality towards the demonstrators; tear gas and rubber bullets had wounded many and killed some. The mobile phone network had been blocked in some areas. The state had showed its brutal power. Fights had continued in the rural areas, but in Cairo things remained relatively quiet. Everyone was anticipating Friday, the week’s day off. On other occasions, spontaneous protests had developed after Friday morning prayers. We expected this to happen again.
The revolution had taken its course on 25 January, originally the ‘Police Day’, which had been invented by the government as an additional official day off. Instead of making people happy about the police, the government’s oppression tool, the opposite happened.

Lots of demonstrations had been announced, but nobody had expected an uprising in the whole country. Fights got out of hand in the provinces and continued for days. Working class people in their remote towns had been sick of exploitation for years and were adamant about not giving up protesting.

In Cairo, the mood was strange. For the first time in a long while the Egyptians had made demands. Now, everything continued just as normal. Life in the city appeared to be comparatively comfortable compared to the lack of infrastructure and services in rural areas or remote towns. So people continued going to work and doing their usual tasks. Nevertheless, a certain tension was noticeable. It was expected that protests would continue the following Friday, the week’s day off, after prayers, and that this time millions would participate. Where this would lead, no one could tell. Everyone was aware, though, that the era of silence and oppression was coming to an end.
On Friday, protests got out of hand. The government had switched off mobile phone services in anticipation in order to make coordination and cooperation impossible amongst the protesters. This had so increased the people’s anger about the open oppression that there was a consensus about ending it.

My friend who lives on the other side of the city near the airport reported how things went in her area: after prayers, someone in the street called out urging people to go to Tahrir Square and all joined him spontaneously: men, women, children. Soon there were thousands, hundreds of thousands of people protesting and marching towards Tahrir.

After kilometers of walking, some hundreds of meters away from Tahrir Square, they were met with tear gas and had to flee from police aggression. My friend made it home by herself. For hours she was without any news about her daughter, son and brother who had joined the hundreds of thousands fighting for their right of free speech.

There was furious fighting in the streets. Government institutions were set on fire, the building of the NDP (National Democratic Party) was totally destroyed. Police stations were stormed. The much hated ‘boxes’, angular cars for transporting the armed riot police, were burned. Nothing could hold the people back anymore. At great personal risk, courageous youngsters picked up the disgusting tear gas bombs thrown at them and just hauled them back. The protesters stood their ground against the government’s brutal force and angrily demanded the president’s abdication. In the end, there were many wounded and some dead.

The reaction of the western media showed concern. Mubarak had always been seen as the guarantor of peace in the Middle East. The west had ignored or even accepted the ongoing oppression and human rights violations in its own interest.

US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and German Chancellor Angela Merkel declared their solidarity with the poor president and encouraged him despite his difficult task to restore order. It took them some days to gradually change this attitude.

Initially in solidarity with Mubarak, they had no shame to later promise absolute solidarity with the protestors and to suddenly promise support for democratic structures. Politicians seem not to worry about their own credibility.

First, ‘stability’ was the key word and Mubarak its guarantor in the Middle East. Then, the Muslim Brothers and the imperilment of Israel’s security by any free democracy were discussed. Later, the key words changed from ‘stability’ to ‘dynamic change’. The democratic movement was recognized as legal and western politicians suddenly all claimed that a time for change had come and that Mubarak was a bad dictator...

In Egypt, we were busy trying to manage life under the changed circumstances. Mobile phone service was still off as well as the internet. Many policemen had vanished from the streets. Volunteers directed the traffic at big crossings and in main streets, where smoldering police ‘box’ cars still blocked the path. The army had come into the city. There were tanks driving about or parked in some places in down-town, each one manned by only one young soldier. The fighting continued between the people and the police. Once I had to reverse my car quickly and retreat because of a sudden shootout at a police station.

The mood was boiling. The demonstrations continued. The people’s strong anger served as a communication tool for a common goal, even without internet or mobile phones. People had gathered on Tahrir Square, chanting slogans, demanding the presidents abdication. They also asked to cancel the current parliament since it had been ‘legitimized’ some months ago only by faked election results.

The president remained silent. Instead, the government reacted with a dirty trick: two days after the Friday demonstrations, all police suddenly disappeared from the scene. This was quite astounding in a country which usually has policemen at every street corner or junction. Then we heard the news, that prisons had been opened and that roaming criminals were now spreading fear amongst the people. Later, some policemen too were found amongst the marauding gangs. They probably had been asked to add to the unrest in order to provoke a call to the government for law and order.

There were strong parallels to Tunisia. Ben Ali had also ordered his security personnel to spread unrest after his abdication. Mubarak was still in place, but the whole country hoped for his leaving. There were new jokes reflecting this: ‘Ben Ali is leaving a message for Mubarak: I’ve gone already, am leaving you the key under the doormat in case you are coming later’.

The people also reacted in a similar way to the Tunisians and took over security control. Youngsters and men armed themselves in adventurous ways with swords, kitchen knives, lances, revolvers and machine guns as well as bats or bamboo rods. One didn’t leave home without a weapon anymore. In the evenings, there was a lot of unrest in the streets, screaming and shouting and shooting.

The people also took over all other control functions of the state, not only traffic control but also street cleaning, suddenly done by normal citizens, a sight yet unseen. So far, everyone dumped junk on the streets and now these people took responsibility for the environment. There was no stronger sign of a new consciousness!

Within two days the situation was under control and fear of nighttime raids ended. People got calmer and one could perceive a general serenity. People felt in power. All was possible, no oppressive state control needed.

Our men still patrolled the neighborhood and guarded their road blocks at nighttime, but in daytime many went to Tahrir to celebrate the triumph of the demonstrators.

The place was packed with people and it was feeling like Woodstock. There was an unbelievable creativity: many posters with witty slogans and drawings and lots of slogan chanting, continuously repeated by the crowd. Following the tradition of the Arab singers, a single person would call out a slogan and the crowd would repeat as a choir, alternating rhythmically, again and again and for hours on end. ‘Irhal – leave!’ ‘The people want to topple the regime!’ ‘Hosni, your plane is waiting!’ etc.

Although courage and a sense of change prevailed, no one knew where the journey would lead and one experienced an unbearable tension at the same time. We were cut off from the world. The television channel Al Jazeera had been switched off; there was no internet and, until the following Monday, no mobile service. The government had made communication impossible and had, with these measures, also killed the economy which had antagonized reluctant critics and opportunists too.

There was a general fear about how to keep up daily life. Money was not available anymore at cash machines; food prices had increased immediately and some foods had become scarce. There was a strong sense of insecurity. Some lost their nerve. The situation left its trace on everyone.

The demonstrators slept in Tahrir Square and there were also demonstrations in other parts of the city. The fighting continued in the provinces, but we did not hear much about it due to the lack of communication.

One had to walk for kilometers to move about or to get into downtown; there were no public busses or taxis and petrol for private cars was limited. Nevertheless, the stream of demonstrators didn’t cease and the protestor’s movement grew stronger every day.

BROUGHT TO YOU BY PAMBAZUKA NEWS

* This article first appeared on transform!
* Gabriele Habashi works as a therapist and journalist in Hamburg and Cairo.
* Please send comments to editor[at]pambazuka[dot]org or comment online at Pambazuka News.