Reflecting on 2011, a revolution of a country, a revolution that starts within a person first
by Dina Samir
A revolution of a country, a revolution that starts within a person first. It is about concurring fear. I vividly recall January 24, making phone calls with friends to arrange for Jan 25 protests; things to do; shall we take our mobile phones with us or not? Shall we drive to a protest location or take the unground metro? I remember the feeling of fear being challenged by frustration, anger, and zeal. In 2011, it was the first time to shed tears for the country. For the first time I had dreams on Egypt, politics. In fact, nightmares.
Amidst the sense of pride and the revolutionary euphoria, I realized my cowardice. I cannot join the frontlines. When the police was showering protestors with tear gas, I could only flee. Those who were on the front lines, the physicians who were at the heart of the battles, and those who flocked into Tahrir to help protestors against the police or army brutality are the real heroes. Each one of them has taught me a lesson of love. Love that is selfless. Love that is capable of pouring life into others. Love that sees the future and faith in a dead presence of a country. The youth who led the revolution have lived the worst years of Egypt’s recent history, nothing like the glorious days they studied in history books. Egypt has been giving them its worse. Yet, they managed to believe in it. They managed to love the country that has forsaken them. This kind of love makes miracles, it revives hope.
Following the later waves of the revolution from abroad was heartbreaking. Is it a bless or a curse to be physically distanced from what is happening in Egypt? I am not sure, but it is definitely emotionally painful and perplexing. Here I am walking in that beautiful street, green trees on the sides, fresh grass smells in the air, birds chirping, but I find myself detached from this beautiful reality and I feel I want to be somewhere else. Somewhere that is way less beautiful, or maybe beautiful in a different way.
This has stirred many questions. What is “home” (watan)? Is it the place someone lives or born in or is it the place he/she chooses to associate him/herself with? Is the watan something that exists outside us or it lives within us? It is physical or metaphysical?
Revolutionary Lessons
by Ekram Ibrahim
As I button up my thoughts on 2011, I find no better teacher to both my thoughts and actions, than January 25thRevolution.
This vivid experience has elaborated to me on the distinction between a rebel and a revolutionary. The rebel acts out of anger, disappointment and resentment, yet not in the name of a principle. The revolutionary is the one who says “No” in the name of a conviction or value. This became vividly clear through the disappearance of many “rebels” after the fall of Mubarak. The commitment to continue with the battle for one year or more requires a revolutionary, someone who pursues a cause greater than their own personal resentment.
Moreover, the difficulties which revolutionaries have been facing since the revolution began are rich lessons to show that, “hell of hardships pave the road to paradise.” As the good attempts to wipe out the evil peacefully, the evil fights brutally to prevent the good from prospering.
My teacher has also taught me that fear is nothing but chains imprisoning my mind and my soul. For the most part, fear results from authoritative ideas we are fed in schools and through media consumption. During my revolutionary journey, there were times when soldiers firing live ammunition or thugs holding knives surrounded me. That did not take my life from me. I can be in the midst of a war and survive to become a stronger soul.
Fear extended from physical safety to mental liberation. The ability to criticize the political messages brought by political leaders and being able to voice my opinion on the misdeeds and the violations of the Supreme Council of Armed Forces (SCAF) has empowered revolutionaries so much. Many people now have the courage to stand before dictators and corrupted figures in their lives and bluntly say “no.”
Not only that, but I have also learnt not to ever judge people by their looks again. Although this seems like an old lesson, the novelty lies in the experience. Through this revolution many females including me have dealt with some of the simplest people whom we have never dealt with so close before. Some lacked both money and literacy, but they had the dignity, the courage and the will. Late November, not less than 50 Egyptians died in a battle with both military and police forces. Most, if not all of those people who sacrificed their lives, were those simple people, who went to the frontline of the battle.
This first year of the revolution has also proved to be the best school proving my favorite quote of the American author, Dan Millman, “the journey is what brings us happiness not the destination.” During Egyptians were torn between expectations, accomplishments and disappointment; the political scene is so tense. In spite of the hardships we went through, I really enjoyed the journey of the revolution despite of the fact that I know that we have not reached our destination yet.
The revolution has left me feeling utterly grateful for being a journalist. Following the teachings of the great leader, Mahatma Ghandi , “the single aim of journalism is the service of truth,” now I cherish even more the importance of witnessing events and reporting them honestly in times of despair, while many still frame them according to their interests.
More is to learn!