Silver Lining
Posted on January 1, 2010 by realistic bird
Freedom To Assemble? No,not really.
It has been over five days since first arriving in Cairo and I’ve readily become acquainted with the amount of subjugation and demeaning sentiment present in Egypt: not by the people themselves but instead by the government against the people – The government of Egypt is oppressing not only the citizens of Palestine but the Egyptians as well.
I was a part of a large-scale march which took place at the Journalist Syndicate in Cairo, those which attended this protest included not only international delegates from the Gaza Freedom March but Egyptians themselves. The event began somewhere around two in the afternoon; Hedy Epstein,a holocaust survivor, was introduced as well as recognized for her vehement hunger strike showing solidarity with the people of Gaza.
As the hours drew closer to 5pm it was announced by myself (in English) and by another member of the march (in Arabic) that the Egyptians would be arriving at 6pm and thus we would start the protest on a united front.
During this time the Egyptian police began to surround us with barricades and soon after I caught a glimpse of the riot police,in full gear, hiding to the side of the Syndicate building.
As the minutes passed Egyptian police and plain-clothes officers lined up behind the barricades and aggressively watched those on the steps of the Journalist Syndicate; we waited eagerly for the Egyptians to arrive and join us.
Slowly but surely Egyptian citizens of varying age moved passed barricades in order to make their way toward the stairs if the Journalist Syndicate building. Hundreds of us gathered and the riot police were finally called in, during which the police officers were moved aside. Behind the barricades stood a massive group of seemingly young and nervous men, some of whom were laughing and whispering about exactly what they assume will happen to the Egyptians who are present at this protest; the Egyptians would more than likely be met with force while those with international passports would be spared.
As we all gave our Salams,Shaloms and Hello’s you could notice a sense of kinship present, one which caused many people I met to cry unashamedly – you can never know how good it feels to finally meet a plethora of individuals with the same amount of understanding and passion as yourself.
Time flew by and soon our humble gathering of internationals and Egyptian citizens caught the attention of Egyptians crossing the streets, many of whom would stop and stare inquisitorially.
The gathering included chants in different languages; French,Spanish,Arabic,English etc – all calling on the same things [...] freedom for Gaza, lifting the illegal siege and an end to the occupation of Palestine.
Hours dragged on with small outbursts of song as well as political rhymes which called on resistance to be used against the illegal Israeli occupation.
At the end of the protest, which went on for over 4 hours, myself and other internationals decided it would be best to escort the Egyptian citizens ,who bravely took part in the march, out of the area by holding on to their hands. If the Egyptians were left alone then the riot police would attack them mercilessly so as we filed out, we did so while holding on to one another until we were a bit away from the police.
The night ended well and all was silent on the frontlines, until the main march which transpired today – right before new years, December 31st 2009.
Cairo Museum
No Pain,No Gain
During the early hours of the day in Cairo, on December 31st 2009,I happened to be walking down Talaat Harb with my flatmate who is also on the Gaza March with me. We were both looking to top-up our phone lines as well as purchase some goods for the solidarity march for Gaza which would be held directly on the road in front of the Cairo Museum.
On our way out of the hotel we had been staying in we walked passed an older Egyptian man, a taxi cab driver. Between myself and the flat mate mentioned I happen to be the only one who can speak Arabic so I greeted the man and began to make my way towards a local vendor so we could buy some water.
The taxi driver was insistent that he take us on a ride to wherever we were going and since we were actually looking to be driven to the Cairo Museum I agreed that after we purchased the items we would return and he could take us to the museum.
We left the area once we I had withdrawn money, topped-up our cards and bought 8 bottles of water in order to stay hydrated during the march.
The taxi driver seemed to be waiting for us on the path-way as we made our entrance on the sidewalk. He immediately began to speak at a really fast pace, saying that he could take us to see the Pyramids and whatever else we wanted. Strangely enough, though his cab was parked on the side of the path-way was not empty.
There had been an Egyptian officer in the backseat of the vehicle during this entire time.
The officer made his way to the drivers seat but thankfully another freedom marcher asked us for directions just as we had our eyes caught wide-open.
I swiftly thanked the cab driver for his ‘hospitality’ and told him we were going to show the young man where Cafe Riche was. The three of us moved our feet as fast as possible away from the taxi driver and began to explain to the other marcher exactly what was going; plainclothes officers and regular Egyptian police were everywhere.
After dropping the young man off at the cafe my flatmate and I made an expedition through some of the most unreal traffic stops in order to gather at a meeting place we had previously agreed upon with two other people from the march; A Syrian and a Libyan.;
Our goal was to meet in the area at around 9:30AM and wait for a signal from those who would lead the march: the raising of a flag, beginning of chants. After the signal we would dash to the road in front of the Museum of Cairo and occupy it, marching towards a metaphorical destination (towards Gaza) in order to show solidarity with those in Gaza who were marching.
As the four of us met and arrived at the area we began to see that the downtown area was packed with Egyptian police officers and undercover police, we did our best to act like tourists and waltzed around speaking in English.
All of our Gaza Freedom March gear was stowed away in our bags and would be pulled out once we hit the street; we weren’t wearing our GFM t-shirts or anything that would make the officers look at us beyond what we were aiming for.
Finally a signal was given, we heard delegates crying out ‘Free Free Gaza!’, and we dashed towards the road as cars moved in on each side of us. If I could describe what the situation looked like I would never be able to give it justice. There were hundreds upon hundreds of us filing into the streets from every corner while the locals began to stop what they were doing in order to assess what was happening in their city.
We blocked the roads as planned while shouting, chanting and clapping – soon enough the Egyptian police were armed and ready with barricades which were right behind me during our march along the road. Riot police were standing to the back of the barricades, watching us intently while eying their own commanding officers in order to receive some sort of signal on what to do.
As the chanting and shouting and marching went on we began to figure out what it was they wanted.
The barricades were being shoved forward and as the officers began to get rough we all sat down as a means to communicate that we were indeed here to be nonviolent protestors. Regardless of this, we were brutally attacked.
The barricades began to be shoved once more and though I consider myself strong I could not stop them from toppling people over on top of one another; I ended up under two people unable to breathe for roughly 30 seconds.
As I got on to my knees I pulled out my camera and began filing Egyptian officers dragging men by their legs across the street as people shouted “No.No!”. Soon women were being dragged and all hell broke loose.
An officer came up to me and told me to get up to which I replied, “no” – this anger him and he began yelling at me in Arabic, not knowing I knew what he was saying. I told him that I wasn’t going to move and he had no right to touch me or anyone else. We began to argue and I remained solid in the fact that I was not going to move. My flatmate was beside me and as they knocked her over she reluctantly gave in to their demands and was pulled away from the area. I sat there screaming at the officer, telling him to stay away from me. After he began to curse at me in Arabic my emotions gave in and I called him a coward for daring to touch women; pushing and shoving them around like animals. That is when he slapped me across the face and knocked me onto my back.
A young women and man tried to lock their arms in mine but the officer moved around us and grabbed my hair and dragged me while on my back across the road while I screamed.
The violent outbursts by the police only lasted between 5-7 minutes but anyone there will tell you that it felt like ages. We did nothing to instigate violent acts against anyone and this planned attack on all marchers was shameful but not stranged since Egypt is being run by a pharaoh-esque dictator.
We all ended up making our way to a small square across from the museum while holding on to each other and asking one another if we were alright. There were some marchers who needed medical attention, some who were dizzy, many who were shocked. The one thing we were not suffering from though was fear. We were not afraid.
Our Palestinian brethren were marching that day and suffering just as we were – this was not about us but about them. We were herein Cairo, to show the world that the international community will no longer be silent as Israel pillages villages, murders the innocent and follows Nazi-like pursuits in order to promote it’s colonialist endeavors.
Filling up the square was fairly simple and as we all stood side by side I couldn’t help but notice the Egyptians there around us, many of whom were crying. In all of their years being subjugated and abused by this government they had yet to see anyone take such a vehement stand, until now. I specifically recall one individual named Ahmad who were weeping while standing next to my Libyan friend – he was saying that he couldn’t believe all of these people were here for Palestine and as he continued to cry they both embraced on another. This is something that will never be erased from my memory for as long as I live.
Speeches were made as we all finally sat down amongst each other, smiling and yelling, waving flags and clapping. We heard from the Irish, the Scots, the South Africans, the French, the Italians, the Americans – you name a country and we had a representative there to speak in support of Palestine. It was a remarkable site to behold.
Egyptian police, of course, did not leave us alone but instead gathered around the square blocking us in – not that we minded at this point since we knew they were intending on moving us out of the area. After an hour or so many people needed to use the bathroom, buy water and food so the police were letting them out though we all had no idea if they would let us back inside the square.
I actually had to use the restroom and after waiting 25 minutes in line ended up on the other side walking towards a small shop or tourist site I knew would have one. On my way there I spotted about 15 of my fellow marchers being detained at the Lotus Hotel. They had been spied on during the days before the pivotal march and were surrounded before they left that morning. In all of their strength and courage they decided to hold their own picket-march outside the hotel behind barricades and Egyptian riot police.
I was across the street while watching this and I pulled out my camera only to have a plain clothes officer demand that I stop filming. When I asked him why he would only tell me it’s not allowed – I asked him why again and he would not give me an answer. I refused to stop filming so he attempted to grab my camera away from me and so I turned it off and stowed it away on my person. I stood away from oncoming traffic and locals walking on the street, on a sidewalk – the officer told me I was not allowed to stand and I all but laughed at his asinine regulations which held no reasoning and no justification. Finally he became rather fed up with me and asked me to go with him, I said no and he grabbed me and pulled me across the road. Funny enough he was attempting to put me inside the barricades the Lotus protesters were behind and thus I ended up standing amongst them, able to pull out my camera and film to my hearts contentment.
As I introduced myself to the group I noticed their signs, they were Anti-Zionist Jews against Israel. Many of them were French though there was one American, besides myself, who was present. One of the men there with us was attempted to negotiate a way out of the barricades with the officer but since there was a language barrier I offered to help translate what I could from his broken English into Arabic. Instead of answering my questions the officers asked me where I was from and why I was “shaming the Arabs” by being here. My anger was unimaginable as I screamed at him, saying that the only shame happened to be stemming from those like him who do nothing as their brethren suffer in Palestine. The officer refused to let us out but said that we could all go into the hotel – he never told us if we would be allowed to leave the hotel and go about the streets as we pleased so we all decided to stay behind the barricades.
As minutes ticked by the officers were told to push the barricades closer and closer towards us in an attempt to box us in. Four elderly Anti-Zionist Jews were standing against the metal posts and were getting shoved roughly away by young Egyptian riot police. One woman began to shout, “would you do this to your own mother or father?!” – I translated her statement and though the officer shoving the elderly about were laughing before I managed to cause them to shut up, some of them even switched spots with other riot police because they were so ashamed of themselves.
Slowly enough after about 45 more minutes we negotiated our way out of the barricades and into the hotel. I took an elevator to the restaurant in the Lotus and sat in the lobby catching my breath. I was sweaty and tired but still happy nonetheless. As soon as I was able to catch my breath I saw 4 officers heading towards me, one of whom I recognized from the violent outbursts earlier. The man who seemed to be the leader amongst the 4 asked me if anything was wrong, I said no and they began to get closer to me- thankfully there was an Egyptian woman there who decided she would hold my hand as they began to ask me what I was doing in the hotel etc. She calmed me down because knowing how angry I was I would have started to yell at them without an iota of remorse. As the women began to speak to the officers I was approached by a man holding a briefcase, he was a lawyer and his name was Mouneer. He asked me what happened and if I wanted to talk to him about it, I kindly said no and that I was fine but he did manage to help me get out of the hotel.
Though I’m very bruised, scratched and shaken up I would gladly go through this all over again in a heartbeat. I’m back safely in my own hotel and ready for what tomorrow may bring.
I will be uploading what I can but since all of my videos are HQ and in MP4 I am having a hard time doing so with this connection.
Stay tuned for more live updates from PoliticalTheatrics as the Gaza Freedom March continues
Uprooted Palestinian
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