Sunday 1 May 2011

Letter from Cairo 28th April 2011


Basata Ecolodge, Sinai

As I sit on a beach on the Sinai coast in the shade of my bamboo hut, with the water gently lapping onto the sand some 10 metres away from me, it is so very easy to forget that I am in Egypt and that the country is still in turmoil.  As I lift my pen and raise my eyes from my notebook, I can see the mountains of Saudi Arabia in front of me and a little further to my left those same mountains become Jordan.  If I walk north, to the end of the beach, I can just see part of Israel.  Everything appears superbly tranquil.  The water is as still as a lake and it's pale turquoise hue is interrupted in places by the darker blue shadows which indicate the presence of coral and, in the near distance, an even darker stretch of blue where the end of the coral reef drops into the deep blue.  Behind me the mountains shimmer in the heat of the afternoon.

A group of olive skinned Egyptians are chattering and laughing with their usual bonhomie whilst a Swiss family babble in their particular brand of German, I can hear the soft sonority of tongues from the South of France and my favourite language, Italian, being somewhat ruined by a small bevy from Calabria.  A group of children are splashing and laughing in the sea and twittering in a variety of languages. 

The Egyptians' olive skins are turning nut brown while some of the Europeans are beginning to turn a painful shade of pink.  Some resemble patchwork quilts with blobs of white interspersed with pink, where the factor 50 sun block missed its mark.

My musings came to a halt some five weeks ago due to the sheer pressure of my work, from which I will retire in June.  However, as I take a break in this paradisiacal ecolodge called ‘Basata’, meaning ‘simplicity’, I have a yen to write again and, for the first time in decades, am doing so with pen and paper.  Upon my return to ‘civilisation’, I will transfer my scribbles to my computer.  I have put the word civilisation in quotes as I am no longer sure of its meaning and because it is, in any case, a controversial term.  I cannot think of a more civilized place than that in which I find myself at the moment, yet I sleep in a bamboo hut with no electricity, toilets and showers are communal and an evening meal is served and eaten in the main hut where one sits on cushions at low tables which each accommodate twelve people. 

The seating arrangements are random and one meets people from all over the world many of whom, like us, speak two if not several languages.  Amicable conversation ranges from art to literature to religion to politics amongst multi-cultural groups and one cannot help but wish that the rest of the world were listening in and learning.

This is, for want of a better word, a unique place and not to everyone’s taste.  I recall a family who stopped here to visit mutual friends on their way back to Cairo from a hotel in Tabaa near the Israeli border whose son remarked “But there is nothing to do here!”  “There is plenty to do.” said I.  “Like what?” said he.  “Like swim, snorkel, walk, read, write and meditate.” said I.  When the same question was asked by another member of the family it dawned on me that a place such as Basata was totally foreign to them.  Their idea of civilisation was a five star chain hotel with endless badly lit corridors coupled with the usual dull shade of mottled carpets, a bedroom painted, decorated and furnished in exactly the same manner as any other five start hotel anywhere else in the world, alongside the usual management team who are, as the French say, incolore, inodore et sans saveur – much like the guests themselves.

Meanwhile, my readers may wish to know a little of what has been going on in Egypt.  Nearly five weeks after the fall of Mubarak, March 19th was the dawn of the much awaited referendum.  But, what was the referendum all about?  This was a question that many of the illiterate or uneducated were asking and to which there were a variety of answers, some of which did not reflect reality.  Many, many people would be voting for the first time in their lives and would be voting for the sheer novelty of being able to do so.

The referendum was formulated by the Egyptian Armed Forces after suspending the 1971 Constitution.  It had been hoped that a completely new constitution would be drafted but the military decided that this would take too long and in order to placate the youth movement and the protestors in general they appointed a constitutional committee to whom they gave a free hand to redraft any of the constitution’s 211 articles and to select a date for the referendum to take place.  Amongst others, some of the main priorities demanded by the protestors were the abolishment of the emergency law, the revision of all articles concerning presidential elections, a re-drafting of Article 2 regarding state and religion and other articles concerning the rights of citizens.

However, the intelligentsia felt that the amendments did not go far enough.  They did include, nevertheless, some restrictions on the ability of the government to maintain the emergency law and heightened judicial supervision of elections. The most significant of the amendments would limit presidents to two four-year terms and allow independent candidates to campaign.  One rather bizarre amendment barred from office anyone holding a foreign passport or being married to a foreigner.  It should be pointed out here that both Sadat and Mubarak had spouses with ‘foreign’ blood and one of the possible future candidates whose name was being bandied around at that time, namely Mohamed ElBaradei, was also married to a non-Egyptian.

As mentioned before, however, it was felt that the amendments were not enough and the impression was that the armed forces were rushing the process of transition for the benefit of the already existing and well-organised but somewhat conservative parties.

The 19th of March was a Saturday and is usually a working day.  But on that particular morning I could neither see nor hear the usual hustle and bustle of people and there was an absence of the usual noise of heavy traffic.  Yet there was a palpable tension in the air somehow fused with an atmosphere of excitement.

There was only one polling station in Zamalek and my husband and I made our way there, somewhat tardily, at around midday – he to vote and me to keep him company and soak in the ambience.  The Egyptian citizens only needed to present their Identification Cards in order to vote and mine was not to be ready until a week later.

The queue was by this time over a mile long and there was an atmosphere of hope and optimism and even if the ‘no’ vote that many of us wished for were not to gain a majority, there was great optimism for the future. With the lack of economic security, instability and increasing violence in the country, it was fairly obvious that the ‘yes’ vote would overrule the ‘no’ vote as the Egyptian people wanted to return to a feeling of normalcy as soon as possible.  Nevertheless, the overwhelming majority of 75% for the amendments to the constitution did come as something of a shock.  Few of the ‘no’ voters had expected to win but had at least hoped to lose with a smaller margin.

In the intervening time, rumours began, which were later confirmed, that the Muslim Brothers had, for days before the referendum, been distributing leaflets pushing for the ‘yes’ vote and were also handing out a large quantity of staple foodstuffs in order to win supporters.  In addition to this, it was also rumoured that on the day of the referendum they were actually preventing the ‘no’ voters from entering into some of the polling stations.  Hearsay began to spread in the days following the referendum that the military and the Muslim Brotherhood had hijacked the revolution and, however unlikely this would appear to be, it has to be said that the armed forces did nothing to stop the Brotherhood in their campaigning and at the same time appeared to have arrested several of the youth activists who were pushing for a vote against the referendum.

The Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt was founded in 1928 but has been suppressed by successive governments and many of its members have been punished and imprisoned.  Despite this, Brotherhood candidates have made showings in several parliamentary elections and have called and continue to call for a more democratic political system in Egypt.  As I mentioned in a previous Letter from Cairo, there is a division within the Brotherhood and there is no unified position yet on their future and how it should engage with Egyptian society. The old leaders hold very strict views whilst the younger members appear to be much more open minded.  But let us not forget they are a powerful, well-organised opposition party.  On the other hand, the youth movement and the many other activists of the revolution were not coordinated. There was a lack of true organisation and it is my belief that not much thought had gone into what might occur after the fall of Mubarak and his regime.  They had one unified voice and that was “The people want the fall of the regime” but one felt that they believed that whatever came next was in God’s hands. 
The fall of the regime was in fact to cause some disturbing developments and the Egyptian struggle continues to surge.  Many deem that the revolution has failed and only time will tell. But the sheer will of the Egyptians, their vibrant exchange of ideas about how their country can be reshaped and their faith that this can be done should give cause for optimism for all of us.
The world is no longer watching Egypt in the same way as it did during the questionably exciting days at the height of the revolution.  The earthquake and ensuing tsunami in Japan, the many other uprisings in the Middle East and the chaotic revolution which is fast turning into a civil war in our neighbouring country, Libya, have all become front page news.  Egypt receives a subtle mentioned from time to time but much of the press is either unaware or gives little importance to what is and will continue to be a long ongoing struggle.  However, it is a struggle which is alive and well.  Just as Rome was not built in a day so the ‘New Egypt’ will not be created instantaneously. Indeed, the battle consuming Egypt about the direction of its revolution is still being fought.
There is still little sign of the police force and, on our journey to and from the Sinai, the roadblocks were manned by the army whose attitude was much gentler than that of the police and they were almost apologetic when asking to see our papers, unlike the police who were always brusque to the point of rudeness. However, due to the absence of the police force, crime has continued to rise and there have been a number of kidnappings.  We were warned that, were we to drive back to Cairo at night, we should travel in a convoy because the Sinai Bedouins had been taking advantage of the absence of the police and holding travelers at gunpoint, relieving them of all their possessions and their cars and abandoning them to the cruelty of the desert at night. 
We had intended to leave Basata at around 3 p.m. in order to cover most of the desert terrain during daylight but it was such a beautiful day and we were so reluctant to leave our haven that we finally departed at 6 p.m., half an hour before sunset.
Our convoy consisted of two cars, my husband and I in one and our son and his family in  the other.  As luck would have it my son’s car overheated bang in the middle of nowhere and while he was filling the radiator with water he discovered a hole in one of the tubes leading from the radiator to the engine.  He proceeded to repair it in the best way possible by binding it with a plastic bag, a t-shirt and whatever debris was available in the sand in the immediate vicinity.  This was all sealed by the type of plastic handcuffs used in Afghanistan which, for some unknown reason, our driver had left in his car.  Twenty minutes or so into the operation, three shadowy figures suddenly appeared from the desert, shouldering rifles.  I froze and for seconds and my life flashed before me as I imagined my untimely end, but it took only a few moments for me to realise that the men were young soldiers asking if they could help us.  We pointed out that we had managed to patch up the car as best we could.  They wished us luck but advised us, very seriously, that at no cost should we stop in the desert again.
We moved off slowly, our hearts in our mouths, and prayed that we would manage the hundred or so kilometres to the Suez tunnel without having to stop again.  We eventually arrived safely in Cairo and vowed, at least for the near future, never to travel at night again.





Friday 18 March 2011

Letter from Cairo 18th March 2011


The tourists' view of paradise

It is very sad to see how tourism has been suffering since the revolution.  At the time of the uprising, over a million tourists fled Egypt.  This sector represents 11% of the country's income and employs something in the region of one in eight Egyptians.  The hotels, casinos and bars are totally empty.  A British friend and her husband recently spent a weekend in the famous Winter Palace Hotel in Luxor, which was built in 1886 on the banks of the Nile, it boasts 86 rooms and 6 suites but there were only four other guests, giving a total of 6 guests and three occupied rooms.  They visited the temple of Karnak, which is a must, and were the only people there.  They visited the Valley of the Kings, also a must, and were the only people there.  The guides were supremely happy to see them and were under the false notion that tourists were now returning to Egypt and their disappointment was visible when, having asked where the couple came from, they were told that they were residents in Cairo.  The wealth of pharaonic sites and antiquities in Egypt are, at the moment, lonely and neglected.

The Sinai coast, with its year-round sea temperatures averaging between 20° and 29° is void of visitors and such sites as the Giza Pyramids stand ominously empty.  Yet workers in such resorts as Sharm El-Sheikh, famous for its diving centres, are optimistic that tourists will be drawn to a country that managed to rid itself of its dictatorship.  The first two months of the year are usually somewhat chilly yet, generally, hotels have an occupancy of 75% during January and February; sadly this has sunk to 11%.

It has to be said that this is not the first time that Egypt's tourist industry has suffered almost fatal disruption caused by riots or terrorist bombings, but somehow, it always gets back on its feet again; the everlasting fascination with Ancient Egypt always brings the tourists back.

The ‘Bread Riots’ of 1977 only marginally affected Egypt’s tourism as this was a spontaneous uprising by the poor protesting the termination of state subsidies on basic foodstuffs.  This is not to say that the matter was not serious, on the contrary, the country was beleaguered by savage repression resulting in hundreds of deaths. The riots' origin lay in Sadat’s Infitah policy, which was a strategy to "open the door" to private investment. In 1976 Egypt had a large debt burden, and late in that year Sadat took a series of loans from the World Bank with the condition that state subsidies on foodstuffs and other essential commodities would be severely limited. As a result of the riots, the government backed down in two days. 

There was a decrease in the influx of tourists in 1985 and 1986 and this was attributed to the hijacking of the Italian liner, the Achille Lauro, towards the end of 1985, the security police riots in Cairo in February 1986 and the United States air raid on Libya in April 1986.

I particularly remember the police riots as they had a devastating effect on tourism.  The police officers at that time were recruited from the poorest sectors of society and were paid the equivalent of about $4 per month and they began their mutiny when they heard rumours that the government was going to extend their two-year enlistments for another year. They set fire to four luxury hotels in the Giza governorate of Cairo and vandalized other symbols of luxury such as nightclubs. 

What is particularly interesting today, in the light of current events, is that these riots raised serious questions about the stability of the Mubarak regime which was widely perceived as having failed to solve Egypt’s mounting economic difficulties.  There was an enormous amount of frustration at that time among the poor and the opportunity to vent that frustration goaded mobs of Egyptian youths from the poorer quarters to join the riots. They roamed the streets, looting stores and attacking cars and buses and shooting indiscriminately. In my mind, I can still hear the staccato sounds of automatic weapons peppering the night air.

Although the situation at the end of January this year was somewhat different, similarities lie in the fact that once the police force had gone into hiding, a few days into the revolution, thugs began looting shops and businesses and until quite recently either they or ‘friends’ of the NDP were attacking cars and buses and kidnapping their occupants.

However, to return to February 1986, I remember very clearly that my sons’ school closed for some days and that many of the residents of Zamalek could be found lounging around on the terrace of the Marriott hotel at all hours of the day, two doors away from my building.  The stoics amongst us were not particularly frightened by the events and life became something of a holiday.  A curfew was also put in place on the first day of the riots and on that particular day our closest friends were due to hold a party, to which we were invited, for some sixty work colleagues and friends.  The couple in question lived behind us on Saraya Gezira Street, which is the other side of what became known as the ‘golden triangle’.  This is an elongated triangle of buildings which are considered the most elegant representation of 1930s to1940s architecture and which, at that time, were occupied by many journalists, writers and artists and, somewhat oddly, our friends who were diplomats.  Of the sixty people invited only a dozen or so were able to attend the party and these were residents of the ‘triangle’ who managed to reach their destination by skulking through the alleyways between Gezira Street and Saraya Gezira Street.  Needless to say, it was impossible for twelve of us to consume the luscious banquet that my friend had spent days preparing, so the following evening, the leftovers were brought to my apartment and we held another soiree and did our best to devour the rest of the food, washed down by lashings of French wine.  Yet again, we failed!  For a third evening the feast was seen to be moved to yet another apartment on the triangle accompanied by the same clan stealthily moving through the alleyways and ducking into doorways at the first sign of any movement in the streets.

By the end of the riots not a tourist was to be seen and would not be seen in any significant numbers for quite a few months and we were able to turn this situation to our advantage.  A friend of ours owned a travel agency and two or three Nile Cruise boats of varying sizes, the smallest of which he was willing to put at our disposal for a cruise between Luxor and Aswan.  We managed to gather together a group of friends in order to make the most of this offer and several weeks later at a ridiculously low cost we flew to Luxor and boarded the boat.  The captain and crew were entirely at our service and could not do enough for us and meals and drinks were served with great affability. 

As all of has had previously participated in a Nile cruise, we did not have to arise at the crack of dawn and traipse around the sites with a dreary crowd of intense tourists, all masquerading as experienced Egyptologists, while listening to a guide gabbling in a monotonous tone with a heavy accent facts and figures that he has learnt by heart, in the same manner that he has memorized the verses of the Quran. Of course we visit the sites that interested us as many of them are worth second and third visits but we did so in our own time.  We sauntered at our own pace through Karnak and around the town of Luxor, had lunch and a long siesta and spent the evening enjoying our own private party on the boat, consuming cocktails and eating a sumptuous dinner.  The next morning we set off for Edfu at a very leisurely speed, stopping and starting wherever and whenever we wanted to.  In fact, throughout the cruise, we were able to choose where we wished to anchor for the night and naturally chose the most beautiful spots from which to watch sunrise and sunset.  And so to Kom Ombo and eventually Aswan, always at the same unhurried pace and with a wonderful sense of owning the Nile; we seemed to be the only boat on the river apart from the incredibly graceful feluccas which continually glided alongside us.

The tourists eventually returned to Egypt and the industry picked up and surpassed itself with a dramatic rise in the numbers of visitors, in spite of the negative repercussions of the 1991 Gulf War.  But disaster struck in a particularly repugnant manner when, on 17th November 1997, fifty eight tourists were murdered at the temple of Queen Hatshepsut in Luxor.  This time, the impact was prodigious and the country’s economy suffered for some sixth months.

There were terrorist attacks on hotels in Sinai in 2004, a series of bomb attacks on Sharm el-Sheikh in 2005, another in Dahab in 2006 and finally on 22nd February 2009 in the Khan el-Khalili souk in Cairo, which was followed by a second bomb that failed to detonate.

But, the tourists always come back and will soon want to see the country which so exceptionally overthrew its government.

Tomorrow the somewhat controversial referendum will take place and the people will vote for or against the eight amendments to the existing constitution.  More about that later!

WE WAIT YET AGAIN!




Wednesday 9 March 2011

Letter from Cairo 9th March 2011


What an enormous disappointment we had yesterday.  When I started writing some time in the afternoon, I affirmed that, yet again, Facebook had been an invaluable tool for the organisation of demonstrations and that a million women were scheduled to take part in a march at 3 p.m.  To my dismay by 7.30 p.m. reports began to reach me that there were only about 300 women in Tahrir Square.  Messages came from friends on the ground and from Pierre Sioufi, whose name I can now mention and who has gained enormous credit for opening his house, which is on Tahrir Square, to masses of people and which I visited several times during the revolution.  Pierre is the friend mentioned in my previous Letters from Cairo who opened his apartment on the top two floors of the building to reporters and correspondents from all over the world, to members of the youth movement itself, to actors, singers and a to variety of artists and friends. 

The massive street demonstrations that we have had since 25th January and which brought down Hosni Mubarak's regime had raised the hopes of many Egyptian women who have long been treated as second-class citizens.  A very significant number of women took part in the demonstrations from the outset of the uprising and while participating they discovered a sense of equality.  Women, like the men, came from all walks of life including throngs of teenagers, sophisticated women in European dress, veiled women, mothers with their children and grey-haired grandmothers. Some of the young women faced opposition by their families who threatened to disown them were they to take part in the demonstrations, but they defied them.

Women stood shoulder to shoulder with the men throughout the revolution and possibly played a pivotal role in it.  They were equally active with their chants, their banners, their cries for the downfall of the regime and for freedom and like their male counterparts, they spent nights in the square, confronted riot police and were attacked and defended themselves against the thugs.

Yet, on their day of hope for equality, not only were they dismally represented, probably because in this patriarchal society the men in their families simply forbade them to attend, but also those who did attend were sadly abused.  According to a friend of mine who was there, and who I shall name ‘Amina’, counter protesters infiltrated the march chanting against the women and harassing them thus forcing some of them out of the square.  Some of the men were chanting “The people demand the fall of women” and “We don’t want secularism, Egypt is an Islamic country”.  It appears that there was also a group of men in front of the women who were ridiculing them and swearing at them.  Others, who were protesting with the women, formed a cordon around the women to protect them.  At this point some pushing and shoving occurred and Amina had her sign torn up and was hit on the head.  The army then advised the women to leave the square for their safety.

The unanswered question here is ‘Who is giving orders to these counter revolutionaries?”.  There are rumours that these men are baltagies or thugs who remain faithful to the old regime.  One of my informers told me that these men were probably employees of the old regime and that they were or still are being encouraged to continue to cause chaos, with promises that if they do so their names will not be mentioned by those who are facing lawsuits for crimes against humanity, such as the ex Minister of the Interior, Habib Al Adly. 

The women who were demonstrating yesterday were also sexually harassed by the thugs.  I should mention here that prior to the revolution Egyptian women had a tendency to avoid appearing in crowded public places because of the invasive, daily unwanted sexual advances made by men of all ages to women of all ages.  This can range from a clicking of the tongue to unveiled propositions to touching of intimate parts of the body all accompanied with desperate sexual hunger in the eyes of the culprits but who also feel that somehow this is their right.  It can be infuriating, to say the least, especially for foreigners who don't possess enough Arabic to hit back with a range of expletives.  Personally, I simply find it irritating, and somewhat surprising at my age, but quite naturally, after 35 years in Egypt, I possess a wealth of particularly effective vocabulary and, when I was somewhat younger, it was not uncommon to see me react physically with a push or a punch or a knee in the groin.

I have always felt much safer walking in the streets of Cairo than I do in the streets of London where I feel apprehension even during the daytime. There I feel a frisson of fear when I see a bunch of youths approaching from the other direction because the menace of mugging is omnipresent.  Whilst I do not condone sexual harassment, it is far less threatening than the risk of being beaten and robbed.  Sadly, in these post revolution weeks women are feeling a lot less safe and instead of gaining the freedom and equality that yesterday was supposed to instigate, there is a sense of defeat and intimidation.

Women in Egypt face many constraints; they have restricted legal rights, can face domestic violence, are discriminated against in the workplace where their salaries are much lower than those of the men and where chances for promotion are slim. Most importantly, they have little, if nothing, to say in the running of the country.  The Million Women March had six main goals which were printed on banners and distributed on flyers:

1.   The right for women to participate in laying the constitutional, legislative and political future of Egypt
2.   A new civil constitution which respects citizenship, equality and cancels all forms of discrimination.
3.   A change in all forms of laws including the personal status law to guarantee equality.
4.   The playing down of woman’s role as a mother as opposed to all her other roles, whether in her private or public life.
5.   The placing of harsh penalties on all forms of violence towards women.
6.   Allowing women to run for president.

Let us not forget, however, that women in Egypt are far better off than women in some other parts of the Muslim world; they are not forced to wear the Niqab, which covers the entire body and the face, leaving a small slit for the eyes or the Hijab, which covers the hair and the neck. 

I must point out, however, that when I first arrived in Egypt in 1974, I saw very few women wearing the Hijab and absolutely none wearing the Niqab yet now, in 2011 it is unusual to see uncovered heads and the full cover is becoming more and more apparent.  Nevertheless something of a dichotomy exists here and on several occasions I have seen veiled women wearing sprayed-on clothes and thick layers of make-up which appears somewhat duplicitous.  On the whole, however, the women dress discreetly and one might almost say that Western influence has been waning for some time.  This is perhaps not surprising if you look at the behaviour of a certain class of young women in, for example, the U.K. who wander the streets drunk, scantily dressed and whose sexual antics in public, both at home and more particularly abroad, leave a lot to be desired.

Meanwhile, although the news going out of Egypt has been somewhat obliterated by the horrifying events in Libya, the air is still very unsettled.  There have been continual nationwide labour protests all over Cairo and its suburbs and throughout Egypt, with workers demanding better pay and working conditions in a wide variety of sectors.  Hundreds of Copts have held demonstrations before the TV building in downtown Cairo, and elsewhere protesting the torching of a Coptic church in Helwan, and demanding an end to discrimination and fully equal rights of worship.  The 25 January revolution was believed to have brought Muslims and Christians together which led to great hopes especially as last year Egypt witnessed more than the usual incidences of sectarian strife. 

There are very few members of the police force in the streets and as a result traffic is totally chaotic and the number of crimes is on the increase.  There have been many reports of cars being stopped at gunpoint and thugs beating the occupants and forcing them to hand over their possessions.  This occurs mostly after dark on the highways and ringroads.

Until a new government is formed and one which pleases the people we have a long tiring road ahead of us but one must remain optimistic.


Friday 25 February 2011

Letter from Cairo 25th February 2011


The garden of our oasis near the Dahshur Pyramids

'I have a farm in Africa', to quote Meryl Streep in 'Out of Africa'.  My husband and I indeed own a small farm 45 kilometres south of Cairo.  We have some livestock but mostly produce mandarins and mangos.  This has, for more than 20 years, been our weekend escape from the hustle and bustle of Cairo and is much loved by Egyptian and overseas friends alike.  If we walk up a hill to the east of our land we have an incredible view of the vivid green fields of alfalfa, an important forage crop, which gradually meets the desert and ends in a panoramic view of the Dahshur Pyramids.

We originally bought 3 acres of land and built one small room, a tiny kitchen and a minute bathroom all with wooden beams.  We used to spend the day there and return to Cairo for the night.  Over the years, we have expanded and added to both the land and the house, and now have a somewhat sprawling property of  9 acres and a one-storey rambling house with a domed sitting room, two bathrooms, 4 bedrooms and a much larger kitchen.  We did not construct a villa in the style of many Egyptian country properties which are built to flaunt personal wealth as we felt that such ostentation would be inappropriate in an agricultural area where many families live in mud brick houses and whose sole possessions are often a single donkey and a few chickens.  We designed it ourselves and used local materials and builders. We also created a swimming pool built of concrete and coated with white crushed mosaic in the style of many of the natural spring pools that can be found in oases such as Siwa.  The garden is lush with greenery and the pool is always dappled with the reflection of the surrounding foliage.  There are some beautifully untamed and uncut palm trees (Phoenix dactylifera) whose branches bow under the weight of vast quantities of dates during the months of August and September. 


Unfortunately our environment has been somewhat spoilt in recent years as small plots of land have been bought up adjacent to our land and, even though this is strictly an agricultural area, bribes have been paid to the local police and, as a result, an iron workshop has been constructed to the north of the farmhouse blemishing the landscape and adding noise pollution.  To add to this, our farming neighbours whose family has greatly multiplied over the years, also managed through bribery and corruption to build a four story house 5 metres from our southern perimeter and overlooking our swimming pool.  Happily we had the prescience to plant some ficus trees but by some miracle a gigantic, fast-growing white berry tree suddenly appeared which flourished so well and so rapidly that it now almost conceals the hideous, tasteless edifice which had become the blight of our lives.

Further north of our farm is an enormous mango plantation owned by the El Gabry family, who are also movie producers and own a number of film studios; they have, during the last forty years, acquired and reclaimed acres and acres of desert land.  Much of this land was purchased from the state for very small sums of money through the usual channels of bribery.  To the south of our farm the Imbaby family, who own automobile showrooms, also possess very large tracts of reclaimed desert land.  As an additional money-making device they have also, for some time, been extracting pebbles and sand from the desert which they sell to construction companies in the same atmosphere of bribery which has been omnipotent in Egypt for the last forty years.

On the afternoon of Wednesday 23rd February, my husband received a phone call from our guardian in Dahshur announcing that there were some suspicious looking people camping out on our land.  After a number of phone calls and further enquiries it became apparent that these men were hiding from the army; however, at that point we had no more details.  By Thursday afternoon it was obvious that these men were not going to leave so my husband leapt into his Jeep and roared off to investigate the matter, leaving me behind.  I was greatly put out that it was deemed too dangerous for me to accompany him but he pointed out that my pellet rifle would not act as a suitable weapon even though I am an excellent shot.

However, when he arrived at the farm the men had already fled.  It eventually transpired that, in the previous few days, members of our rural population had begun to invade the lands owned by the El Gabry and the Imbaby families, had deposited themselves there, armed with kalishnikov machine guns, and were refusing to move.  The above mentioned families asked the army to intervene in order to protect their estates; they army arrived and there was an exchange of gunfire and the men in question finally took flight and hid in our leafy grove to the great consternation of our guardian.  He in turn called the army, at which point there was another exchange of gunshots and the men in question disappeared once again.

There are many incidences like this occurring all over Egypt which are the result of the fall of the regime and its brutal, thieving police force and the civilisians' ever increasing realisation and confirmation of the sheer magnitude of bribery and corruption at all levels in this society.  Everyone wants a piece of the cake which has been attainable only by the privileged few.

In the meantime, we have observed another momentous day in Tahrir Square where, yet again, enormous crowds of both Muslims and Christians have met to pray and to voice their discontent with the caretaker government.  The demonstrators were a little thin on the ground early this morning and I was somewhat worried that we might be losing our momentum but happily I was proved wrong. 

Monday 21 February 2011

Letter from Cairo 21st February 2011


City of Nantes renames it's Place de La Liberation, Tahrir Square!

Life is full of strange happenings and coincidences.  Apparently, the city of Nantes in France has changed the name of one of its biggest squares from 'Place de la Liberation' to 'Place Tahrir' maintaining its original name in small letters underneath.  What is particularly interesting for me is that my husband was there in 1994 at the 'Festival des Allumees' where he accompanied the Egyptian singer 'Hakim', who had been picked, amongst other singers, to represent Egypt's world of music.  My husband owned, at that time, the most prestigious music production company in Egypt and Hakim was one of his star singers.  For six years, from 1990 to 1995, Nantes chose a different city to be represented in their festival and that particular year they chose Cairo.  The festival included Egyptian music, food and art and took place in different venues in Nantes over a period of six days from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m.  The festival was attended by thousands of French citizens as well as North Africans and Egyptians living in France.  It was an enormous success and one cannot help but wonder if this was the beginning of an empathy for Egypt and that, as a result of the popularity of the festival, they have taken up our cause.

Meanwhile, I must share a few anecdotes with my readers.

I hate to say this but there was something to be said for having contacts and 'knowing the right' people here and I will explain why.  The Mogamma in Tahrir Square, which is the National Government Administrative Complex, is a maze of many small rooms and many large rooms with windows, behind which sit a lot of aggressive very poorly paid civil servants who deal with nationality certificates, resident's visas, residents' permits, passports, renewal of passports and so on. It is a massive, sprawling building with thousands of employees, most of whom have very little to do.  When you have any papers which need sorting out you go to wherever they send you and try, very hard, to wait patiently and eventually someone will scribble a signature of some sort on your piece of paper.  You are then sent elsewhere to another room on another floor where someone will stamps it with a rubber; you will then be sent somewhere else where someone else will add a postage stamp; they in turn will ask you to photocopy such and such a document.  You do this and return to where you came from, or are sent elsewhere, and will be asked to photocopy another of your documents (this is in fact the main thme of one of Hakim's songs - 'Henak aloulna hena', 'Over there they told us to come here').  By this time, you may start losing a little patience and you either obey or explode in frustration asking why you were not told to photocopy both documents at the same time.  If you behave like a quiet little mouse, you may but only may, complete your day triumphantly with paper in hand, duly signed and sealed.  However, if perchance you lose your temper you will probably have to start all over again and almost certainly on another day because you will already have wasted a whole morning there.  This was our experience for our first decade or so in Cairo. Eventually, my husband, through contacts, befriended someone (no names) who was the head of the Mogamma and other governmental organisations.  Life became easy; every time we as a family needed to renew any papers, we would sit in the plush office of said gentleman, drinking black sweet coffee, while his lackeys did all the running around for us.  Unfortunately, this gentleman disappeared with the old regime and last week my husband had to visit the Mogamma to finish my Egyptian citizenship and went through the rigmarole of past years.  His temper was sorely frayed by the time he returned home.

On a brighter, post-Mubarak note, an Egyptian friend of mine who is a young Muslim girl was invited by a Christian colleague from the American University in Cairo to attend a revolution celebration at a church near Tahrir Square.  When she spoke to me I could see that she was totally uplifted and she said "I want to share this experience with you as it portrays the unity taking place in our new free Egypt."  Apparently the service celebrated the youth movement who had participated in the demonstrations as well as some of the supporting media.  The diocese had also invited the families of the martyrs of the revolution to attend the service.  My young friend recounted that although she lives nearby, this was the first time in her life that she had entered the church and upon arrival she encountered an ambience of unity, peace and love and said that the atmosphere was electric.  She added "I joined the masses as they began singing their lovely songs of worship to which I was totally able to relate, even as a Muslim."  She related that the priest asked those who had attended the anti government demonstrations in Tahrir Square to stand up, which they did, and that there was great applause for them. She then told me that further on into the service, speeches were made by leading Christian figures, followed by speeches from members of the 25th January Youth Movement.  Most of these young men were Muslims and the fact that they were attending a Christian service and speaking out in this holy place, and being applauded by the congregation, was revolutionary in itself.  They told the stories that I have mentioned in a previous letter of how, during the days of violence, the Christians had protected the Muslims while they prayed in the square and vice versa. To my friend's surprise, a young member of the Muslim Brotherhood was present at the service.  She was very pleasantly surprised that not only was he invited to attend the service, but that he was greatly accepted by the Christian congregation and was applauded after giving an amazing speech about how the past and recent problems between both religions had been incited by Mubarak's regime. He added that Egypt needed to stop using phrases like 'Wehda Wataney' meaning 'National Unity' which is a phrase that has been used to describe the possibility of a unity between Muslims and Christians here, and use only the word 'EGYPTIANS' as a symbol of unity.  Her final words to me were "I cried, and like many other days in Liberation Square, I felt unity, happiness and freedom!"

However, we need here to look back on a darker side of this revolution and listen to a story told to me by a 15 year old Egyptian girl who comes from an upper middle class family and who lives in a villa with extensive grounds in the desert in a sparsely populated area on the Alexandria road, between the Wadi Natroun Prison and the Fayoum prison.  On Saturday 28th February 2011 at 9.30 a.m she woke to the sound of gunshots.  She looked out of her window to see her father firing at some men, who she later learnt were escaped armed prisons, who were also being fired at by the military from the opposite side of the road.  She heard their cries of pain and watched as they fell to the ground.  She later discovered that her father had not wanted to shoot at these men but that, after calling the armed forces for help, they had told him that he must shoot to protect his family as the prisoners were armed and dangerous.  When the military arrived, more and more prisoners had surrounded the walls of the house and the army gave one warning shot before shooting any man who did not obey orders.  Eventually when the situation had calmed down the family fled to their downtown appartment. The young girl in question told me that the worst thing was hearing the gunshots and the cries of the dying men as, initially, she did not know who and what was involved.  After the prisoners who had not been shot were caught, they confessed to the military that the police officers had released them and given them weapons, under instructions from the Ministry of the Interior.  This young girl, verging on adulthood, told me "After that experience I couldn't sleep for days. Before that point in time I had no feelings for Hosny Mubarak or his regime as they were not affecting me directly but after hearing the confessions of the prisoners my feelings turned to intense hatred."  While she told me her story, she was in a state of excited and suppressed agitation.  I can only hope that she will be strong enough to put aside such a horrendous experience.

Rumours are now escalating that tomorrow, Tuesday 22nd February, there will be massive demonstrations to overthrow every single member of the old regime and those who have recently been appointed.  This is unusual as apart from the first demonstration which took place on 25th January, most of the large demonstrations have taken place on Fridays.

ONCE AGAIN, WE WAIT!

Friday 18 February 2011

Letter from Cairo 18th February 2011


Over a million people in Tahrir Square with their heads bent in prayer


Today, we walked towards Liberation Square with the hope of joining in with what looked to be another massive crowd who were congregating in the thousands; this time they are not there to protest but to celebrate victory.  However, they are also sending out a message which is that they want to ensure that the revolution goes in the right direction.  However, sadly, we could not get further than Midan Talaat Harb as every street was packed with people and so blocked that there was no way we could have made our way through without being crushed.  I have, however, and still am talking on my mobile to many friends there.

There must be well over a million people in the square alone, not to speak of the surrounding streets, and this is obviously by far the biggest manifestation so far.  Today was the first Friday that we witnessed the crowds gathering before the midday prayers and Liberation Square was already filling at 8 a.m.  Wherever you look, people are jumping, dancing and celebrating but, at the same time, there is a will on the ground to keep the pressure up on the military council.

The most interesting feature today, was the appearance of Sheikh Yusuf Al-Qaradawi, an Egyptian Islamic theologian who was imprisoned under King Farouq in 1949, then three times during the reign of former President Gamal Abdul Nasser, until he left Egypt for Qatar in 1961 and has now returned home.  He is something of a contraversial figure and has always been considered a Muslim extremist but his sermon in the square today was ground-breaking.  He sounded like a moderate and spoke of secularism to a great extent.  He even mentioned that his granddaughter had been demonstrating in the square every day.

He asked for the Egyptian army to open the Rafah boarder crossing which is the only passage between Gaza and Egypt.  Another of his astounding declarations was a request that the people should not let anyone hijack this revolution and he seemed to insinuate that this included the Muslim Brotherhood as well as the army.

But of the many issues that he spoke about, the most amazing moment was when he asked us not to forget that the Muslims and the Christians were together during this revolution and that this has broken the back of the sectarian clashes that have taken place over so many years.  He also reminded us of the day in Liberation Square when the Christians formed a circle around the Muslim protestors to protect them from the so-called pro-Muburak demonstrators, while they prayed. He then continued to express his wish for the whole square and surrounding streets to join him in prayer, Christians and Muslims alike, adding that they could worship while standing as these were special circumstances.  This was somewhat amusing in the sense that, even had the crowd wished to kneel, it would have been utterly impossible as the people was packed like sardines and there seemed to be little room to breathe.

Throughout Al-Qaradwi’s sermon my husband continually repeated ‘I don’t believe my eyes and my ears!’  Never, ever in all my years in Egypt have I felt such solidarity between the two religions and this is in itself revolutionary and begs the question that has been asked so often recently as to whether the regime intentionally incited religious unease.

It was indeed a breathlessly beautiful moment in time and at the end of his sermon the crowd erupted with a new chant ‘El Shaab yurid tathir El Bilad’ – ‘The people want the purification of the country.’  This had the same impressive rhythm as the previous chant and was quickly picked up by the entire crowd and one wonders how they managed to recite it in such perfect unison.  There has been a succession of chants all day, including the national anthem and ‘Egyptians, hold your heads up high’ and even ‘Walk like an Egyptian’!  However, we can still hear, from time to time, the old chant ‘El Shaab yurid Escaat El Nezam’ – ‘The people want the fall of the regime’ and the reason for this is that the people feel that the regime has not been entirely eradicated.  They are also asking for the removal of Ahmed Shafik, the new Prime Minister, who was also a member of the old establishment. 

Although four members of the old regime are in prison awaiting trial for misuse of the country’s funds, the demonstrators feel that corruption is endemic in many levels of society and that many more people should be brought to justice.

Many fears have been expressed both locally and abroad that the Muslim Brotherhood would take this opportunity to put themselves in power but it has become fairly apparent that this is not what the youth of Egypt desire.  They are crying out for democracy and the right to chose who rules their country.  Even the more extreme members of the Brotherhood appear to be climbing down several rungs of their ladder and there is a wonderful story which somehow substantiates this.

A friend of ours, who I shall call ‘Ahmed’ when trying to make his way to the square on Friday 28th January, when the demonstrators were attacked, became involved in conversation with a group of youths, one of whom was a bearded member of the Muslim Brotherhood, who I shall call 'Mohamed'.  In the middle of the discourse, Mohamed said to Ahmed ‘I am sorry’.  Ahmed looked extremely bewildered and said ‘Sorry for what?’ Mohamed replied, and here of course I will need to paraphrase, ‘I am sorry because I allowed myself to feel superior because I thought that I was taking the right path, unlike people like yourself, and I thought that I and people like me would be the chosen ones to lead the revolution.  God has proved to us that we were wrong and that our sense of superiority was a sin.  I was judging others when only God can judge.

The revolution appears to have reconfigured the religious scene here and clarified the public’s position towards religious institutions and discourses.  The Egyptians suddenly perceive some of the religious dialogue as being part of the corrupt and repressive regime and seem to be challenging these discourses.
This is truly a people’s revolution and I personally have great hopes for the future of Egypt.  But, I repeat, this is only the beginning of the beginning.

Nevertheless, the scene in Liberation Square is very different to the scenes that we are witnessing in other countries such as Yemen, Lybia and Bahrain where there is a great deal of violence.  Barhrain in particular seems to be the centre of great carnage where live bullets are being used and we can hear appeals for help to the rest of the world.  The contrast could not be greater and we should be proud of ourselves and consider ourselves extremely lucky that, in spite of the reactions of the police force on 28th January when they used tear gas and rubber bullets against the demonstrators, and the violence incited by the regime against the protestors on the 2nd and the 3rd of February, we have managed to carry out a peaceful revolution. 

There is a small group of pro-Mubarak demonstrators in one of the back streets Cairo but it has to be said that they are not against the revolution, they simply want to give him a happier send-off.

Night has fallen and the festivities continue; however, there were a few alarming bangs in the square but these were simply fireworks being fired into the air, again in great contrast to the bangs caused by gunfire elsewhere in the Arab world.  It has to be said, however, that lighting fireworks in the middle of such a vast crowd could be potentially dangerous.

Yesterday, I received confirmation of my Egyptian citizenship, the timing is perfect, and I can now say that I am truly proud to be an Egyptian - I shall walk with my head high and walk like an Egyptian.





Wednesday 16 February 2011

Letter from Cairo 16th February 2011


Tahrir Square is back to normal!


The whole world seems to be going mad, especially the Arab world.  After Tunisia and Egypt, there were uprisings in Algeria and Yemen and of course the usual scuffles in Iraq, but now Bahrain seems to have joined the list.  And the chants are the same “El Sha3b yurid escaat el nezam” - “The people want the fall of the regime”.  This whole situation really is snowballing but, selfishly, all my hopes are with Egypt and I think we stand a good chance of coming out of this in a positive manner.

Everything is moving so thick and fast that it is extremely difficult to keep up with things.

The army has managed to get rid of the hardliners in the square but the police are still protesting and many of our workers are staging strikes.  Obviously, with the dictatorial regime that we had, strikes were almost unheard of but now everyone is jumping on the bandwagon.  The nation seems to think that, because we have had a revolution, things are going to change overnight and that a non-existent government is going to hand out pay rises and dividends immediately.  They need to understand that, with the help of the army, Egypt is trying to get back to normal and that the country will be able to put together widespread changes - but they take time.

The army has, however, continued to make promises; they have declared that there will be a referendum within two months and that the constitution will be amended to enable free and fair elections and that this will be carried out within 10 days.
We still have the same cabinet but the Prime Minister has said that opposition figures will soon be appointed to the 'new' cabinet.  I have put the word new in quotes because the new cabinet is still part of the old regime.  However, if they do put in the promised members this could be a significant development but I fear that it will be a bumpy ride towards democracy. 

Meanwhile, Cairo rumbles on and were you none the wiser, you would not be aware that a revolution had just taken place and, in many ways, is still taking place.  The traffic is as heavy as ever and will be even worse when all the schools open next week.  The air is thick with pollution and the layer of smog lies, once again, over the basin in which Cairo sits.  It is particularly windy at the moment and the garbage which is strewn in the road is swirling and lifting as if it had a life of its own.  The weeds continue to poke their heads through crumbling pavements, the potholes continue to be a risk to life and limb and the trees are weighed down with their usual layer of dust.  Beside the wall of the Gezira club and in front of my window one can see the pavement, which has been dug up at least four times, to my knowledge, in order to repair pipes or electricity cables.  Broken tiles are pushed into piles at various points in the road, and walking from my house to the Gezira club is like taking part in an aussault course; you have to hop, skip, jump and duck in order to get from one end to the other.  And all this is in full view of the Marriott Hotel and designed for the pleasure of the tourists.

If Mubarak's regime is to be punished for misappropriation of funds and other sins, I would suggest that their greatest crime is the shameful neglect of the city of Cairo.  There is nowhere to take a stroll with a loved one or the family; no wide pavements, no decent walkways along the banks of the Nile, no clean gardens with tendered flowers.  It breaks my heart that the city that I love so much, despite its many faults, has been so sadly left to fall into disrepair. 

It must be said that lackeys of the so-called dignitaries always cleared the streets of traffic when their masters were chauffeured from one place to another, much to the indignation of ordinary citizens who, when going to or from work, would find themselves sitting in their cars or in buses at a standstill whilst streets and bridges were closed for the passing of some minister or other.  But I cannot believe that they were unaware of the unsightliness around them. 

Tourists arrive in the millions every year and their packaged tours enable them to see Egypt's great past.  However, the few who venture out of their hotels into the streets must be appalled by the sad state into which the city has been allowed to fall.  Of course, they will find the Khan Khalili souk very charming and vibrant in spite of the harassment of the multi-lingual shop owners who vie with each other to sell their somewhat tacky souvenirs.  They will enjoy a trip to the pyramids where, again, they will be harassed to buy more trinkets or to take a bumpy camel ride or to mount a horse which has passed its sell-by date.

I feel I can speak with greater freedom now.  There is so little that the toppled regime has done for its country and it is more and more apparent that personal gain was the primary aim of its members.  Where is the education reform that was promised for so many years?  The state schools have not changed in the thirty five years that I have been here.  The students still learn by rote and the present education system does not encourage critical thinking, problem solving, teamwork or innovation.  Yes, more schools have been built and there is an increase in enrollment rates but the system remains the same and, as a result, the public's general knowledge is very poor.  There is much social brainwashing in the schools as well as in the media and much ignorance, all fostered by the ex regime. 

However, many Egyptians have educated themselves and have become very aware, through internet, by watching foreign news and foreign films, that there is another world out there, a free democratic world, and this is what they have fought for in a most peaceful manner. 

But it is only the end of the beginning. What begins now is the struggle for Egypt’s future and we hope that it will be rebuilt slowly but surely and without external interference. 


Monday 14 February 2011

Letter from Cairo 13th February 2011


Yes, Mubarak is out and the people rejoiced and many are still rejoicing but not everyone is satisfied with the outcome.  I have eavesdropped on a number of conversations today and people are beginning to worry about the next steps that the army will take or if indeed they will take any.  As the morning started, a few hardliners moved back to Liberation Square and the army tried to remove them gently; the news got round and more protestors moved to the square until by the evening there were fairly large numbers again; they are impatient and want all their demands to take place immediately. However, we have accomplished so much and while it is a good idea to keep the pressure up, the people need to be careful not to push too hard or everything we have achieved could fall apart.  The army has made commitments so, at this juncture, our citizens need to use wisdom and simply monitor the army’s actions, until next Friday.

On the other hand, perhaps they are right to keep a certain momentum going as the head of the army, General Tantawi, is something of a dictatorial character and the one thing that the army needs to prove, and soon, is that they have no intention of hijacking the system.

Meanwhile, ironically, there are now tens of thousands of people protesting in Rome and as many in other Italian cities, asking for the removal of Silvio Berlusconi for allegedly having sex with under-aged girls.  He has been accused of using his political power to cover up the scandal and denies everything.  I can hear the same word being used in Italian ‘Basta’ as has so often be used in Egypt over the past few weeks – ‘Kefaya’ – meaning ‘Enough’

Paradoxically, the police in Cairo protested in front of the Ministry of the Interior building today.  They want a pay rise!  They used brutality on Friday the 28th by attacking the protestors with water, tear gas and rubber bullets and then disappeared off the face of the earth in order to cause havoc, pandemonium and a total sense of insecurity, which put the government in a position to be able to say that it was the protestors who were destabilising the country.  

There are a number of new movements but one which stands out is the Kefaya Movement for Change.  This appears to be a coalition of the youth who want to create a political platform and who are calling themselves ‘The Youth Revolution’  However, this is just one group.  There are so many movements and voices but there is, at the moment, no ONE voice.  Can the youth movement galvanise and organise itself? 

Meanwhile the military authorities have dissolved the country's parliament and suspended the constitution.  This of course leaves the country with no leader, no parliament and no constitution.  The cabinet is still in place but is constituted of members of the old regime.  Basically we are left with the army and old regime figures.

Ideally, we need a multi political party but I don’t quite see how that can happen as most of the existing opposition parties don't seem to have much sway.

The whole scene is fast-moving and dramatic; but, no one expected it to be easy!

AND STILL WE WAIT

Saturday 12 February 2011

Letter from Cairo 12th February 2011

Singing, Dancing and Fireworks in Liberation Square


This is a truly historic moment and last night’s explosion of emotions was beyond words.
The last 24 hours of this revolution was a roller coaster, beginning with the crushing speech by Hosni Mubarak and ending with a very short speech by Omar Soleiman.  Mubarak tried to pull a fast one but the will of the Egyptian people prevailed, they simply did not give up and after his oh-so-humiliating, haughty and patronising talk they were back up on their feet and swelling in the millions all over the country.  Although there were ominous signs throughout the day, the people were more defiant and more determined than ever.  This man had ruled with an iron first and with draconian measures and he had to go.

One question remains, to which we may never know the answer, and that is ‘What happened between Mubarak and the army in those 24 hours?’  What went on behind the scenes?  I wish I had been a fly on the wall!

And, what a party there was in Liberation Squarelast night!  People were crying, cheering, laughing, hugging and kissing each other and were hysterical and beside themselves with joy.  We were speechless and no words can really describe our elation.  We fought for a great victory but, although it is the beginning of the end, it is only the beginning.

My hopes wavered enormously over the past few weeks but my husband was absolutely sure, from the moment that the army said they would not use force on the people, that that this was the end of the regime.  His faith never vacillated and he remained calm and full of hope throughout.  He is also convinced that the army will continue to do the right thing even though there are contradicting voices, some of which say that the Higher Military Council does not inspire confidence.  However, the Egyptian people have lost their fear and will continue to speak out.  In fact, enormous crowds have gathered in Liberation Square again today and I can hear such chants as ‘We are Muslims and Christians together, we are all Egyptians’.  However, they do want reassurance that the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces will meet all their demands and requirements.  They also ask that a committee of five people be formed to run the interim period and that this committee be comprised of one military official and four civilians. 

Above all, however, they want the lifting of the Emergency Law which has been in existence for thirty years.  The emergency law is a tool which has been in the hands of the regime to storm many basic rights and freedom guaranteed by the Egyptian Constitution. Since the assassination of President Anwar El Sadat in October 1981 , the emergency law was renewed by a temporary resolution for one year and then has been extended many times again until today.  In other words, total suppression of human rights! So many Egyptians over the years have been jailed for no apparent reason and with no trial.

Another demand from the people is that investigations be carried out.into the corruption and the amassed funds of various former government ministers.  However, as I understand it, the Egyptian Public Prosecution has already started legal inquiries on several former government ministers and a former ruling party leader.  In particular, they are scrutinizing the former Trade and Industry Minister Rashid Mohamed Rashid, the former Minister of Tourism, Zoheir Garana and the former Minister of Housing, Ahmed El-Maghrabi.

Also among the accused is Ahmed Ezz, the former Organization Secretary of the ruling National Democratic Party, and a close confidant of President Hosni Mubarak's son, Gamal Mubarak.  These charges will include the encroaching on state-owned properties and the graft and embezzlement of public funds.  Last week, The Public Prosecution in fact ordered to ban the four, together with former Minister of the Interior, Habib Ibrahim El-Adly, from traveling abroad and froze their bank accounts pending the end of investigations.

Meanwhile, never in my lifetime has a revolution been witnessed by so many people; never have so many questions been asked with so little ability to predict what would happen. Questions which we continually asked each other were – ‘Will Mubarak leave?’ or ‘When will he leave?' or ‘Has he already exited, stage right?  Now we know, he has finally resigned.  At least we are almost sure, some people feel that this is a scam and that they army and the regime were in cohoots in order to create a situation whereby the demonstrations and the people would go home.  What a horrible thought!

There is an amazing clean up going in Cairo today and this is being carried out by people from all walks of life including the middle and upper middle classes.  They are out there with brushes, pans and  rubbish bags.  This was the result of a request on Facebook for all hands on deck.  One of my friends said ‘I filled 10 bin bags with Tahrir rubbish this morning, and there was a huge crowd of volunteers’

An enormous tribute must be paid to Al Jazeera International television channel. At the beginning of the uprising, while there was a total blackout on Egyptian state television, Al Jazeera was with us day and night and was our only access to the ongoing events. But, on Sunday 30th Januray, the Egyptian authorities revoked the Al Jazeera Network's license to broadcast from the country, and shut down its bureau office in Cairo.  If ever we needed proof of the regime’s wish to stifle and repress the freedom of reporting and the freedom of speech, this was it! We all panicked as, at that point in time, the coverage by CNN, BBC, Euronews and others was scanty, to say the least.  But two incredibly courageous reporters were not intimidated by the authorities, or by the fact that several international journalists had been detained and one or two even beaten and threatened with their lives.  Hoda El Hamid and Ayman Moheydin brought unparalleled reporting from the ground in the face of much danger and were unremitting and tireless in their work which went well beyond the call of duty.  Hoda is a personal friend and when I saw her on 11th February in the apartment in Liberation Square, where much information was being received and sent, she was only able to talk for a few seconds as she was glued to her laptop.  Later next day, when the revolution was at its end, we exchanged amusing messages and she expressed a desire for a hot shower, a cold drink and a change of underwear.  I remarked to her that on Friday morning, she was wearing the same clothes as I had seen her in the previous day, a crumpled pink jacket.  Proof indeed that she had not slept all night!  

I will be returning to work and although I might not write my Letter from Cairo every day, I will try to write it at least twice a week in order to keep my readers au fait with developments.

IN A WAY, WE STILL WAIT!