• People power  - Lamis Andoni
Said Buazzizi did not only immolate his body, but the fire he lit penetrated the souls of millions of Arabs.

• Tahrir squared  - H. A. Hellyer
It's hard to quantify the change from pre-January 25 to afterwards--but it was a massive sea change.

• Egypt is a pretty stable country  - an interview with Hisham Kassem
The trigger was connectivity.

• Egypt will never be the same again  - Abdel Monem
By the third day the police force disintegrated.

People power
 Lamis Andoni

There is no doubt that the Tunisian uprising was the spark that ignited the Egyptian revolution leading to the ouster of President Hosni Mubarak. The success of the Tunisians in removing Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali sent a strong message across the region that people power can prevail even against the most stifling dictatorship.

But conditions were also ripe for an Egyptian revolt: the Mubarak regime had ignored increasing signals of widespread resentment over his three-decade rule, economic policies and brutal suppression by the state security apparatus of political dissent. In 2004, thousands took to the streets to protest Mubarak's plan to renew his bid to run for president and pave the way for his son to succeed him. The popular movement Kifaya ("Enough is enough") was born by successfully instigating the Egyptian public's rejection of Mubarak's presidency.

In 2008, new movements emerged that signaled the integration of Egyptian youth with disgruntled labor in protests demanding an improvement of conditions and raise in wages for workers--especially in the influential textile industries. Again the regime resorted to repressive tactics and underestimated the simmering popular anger spreading among large segments of the population.

But it was the death of a young man at the hands of the police in 2010 that proved to be the rallying call for Egyptian youth to engage in protests and popular activism. Khaled Said was picked up by two policemen in an internet cafe in the coastal city of Alexandria and beaten to death in an incident that symbolized widespread police brutality.

Little did the authorities realize that the death of Khalid Said directly touched all of Egypt, not as an isolated incident, but because his fate might have befallen any member of the public. In fact, the selection of the date January 25 as a protest day was not incidental; January 25 is the officially-designated day to pay tribute to the police force. These young organizers wanted to turn the occasion into a rejection of police brutality.

Little did they know that their cyberspace call would mobilize tens of thousands leading up to a revolution that would bring down the regime.

Yet without the scenes and the shouts of the Tunisian revolution, viewed on satellite TV screens, it is unlikely that the January 25 protest could have transformed into an eruption of millions of Egyptians. Said Buazzizi did not only immolate his body, but the fire he lit penetrated the souls of millions of Arabs who share his agony of despair, either in failing to find jobs or being unable to fend for families or because they are strangling under the hold of authoritarian regimes.

In the case of Egypt, the plight of that Tunisian young man and other Tunisians' enflamed wounds opened by decades of western-inspired (and at times imposed) open market policies that only further massed wealth and consolidated power in the hands of the ruling elite.

It was in 1984 when Tunisians rose up against the suspension of some government subsidies, the price for an agreement with the International Monetary Fund, resulting in price hikes of food staples. The short-lived uprising was quelled and in the years that followed--especially under Ben Ali--dissent and popular grievances were silenced.

Egypt understood the agony of Buazzizi well. It spoke to a cumulative pain that reaches back to the late seventies when the late President Anwar Sadat turned Egypt into a pro-western government and introduced "the open-door economic policies" that deepened class polarization and produced a wealthy elite of "fat cats" that thrived on corruption and exploitation.

In 1978, Egyptian anger exploded in what was called the "bread uprising" that was eventually crushed and dismissed by the regime as a "thieves revolution".

Like Tunis, the regime used security organs to coerce subordination and submission, undeterred by protests from Egypt's opposition and the ordinary citizen.

In Egypt, the rigging of recent parliamentary elections led to the withdrawal of most opposition candidates and enabled the domination of the ruling party, which alienated wide sectors of the society from upper middle class to the down-trodden, eventually bringing them in the hundreds of thousands to Tahrir Square.

It was no coincidence that this revolution was led by youth. To begin with, we often forget that most movements in the Arab world in the fifties and sixties in the hey-day of Pan-Arabism were led by young people. In more recent history, it was Palestinian youth who led the first and second intifadas.

But what is new is that Arab youth are now initiating revolutions to topple repressive Arab regimes that had seemed unmovable. It seems this new Arab generation is not haunted by the memories of defeat that haunt previous generations, whether it be the failure to liberate Palestine, prevent the American occupation of Iraq or stand up to dictators.

And certainly new technology has liberated the new generation of many of the chains imposed on previous generations. Cyberspace offers freedom, safety and a network to vent anger--away from traditional constraints.

The real test for the new generation, as for all revolutionaries, was in going to the streets and facing the enemy in reality and not in virtual space. I believe that in the call for January 25 the new young activists found strength in numbers and a shield in the masses. More significantly, they demonstrated their courage and readiness to sacrifice and continue despite--and perhaps in honor--of the fallen.

But the revolution is still in the beginning. In both Tunis and Egypt, the ruling elites are still clinging to power trying to impede fundamental changes. Dangers still lie ahead, especially if those in power succeed in dividing the people and sedating them with false promises.

People in Egypt and Tunis both say that they trust the army. Thus, the army's role is crucial to the success of the revolutions, unless western intervention succeeds in staging soft coups d'etat in cooperation with officials from the bygone eras. The key remains in keeping up popular pressure lest external and internal forces abort reformist steps towards achieving social justice and democracy.-Published 17/2/2011 © bitterlemons-international.org

Lamis Andoni is a veteran journalist and analyst.

It took everyone by surprise. It took the regime by surprise. It took the world by surprise. But more than anyone, it took the Egyptian people by surprise.

There have been a lot of assumptions about the Middle East region in general, and Egypt in particular. Some of them are absurd, and are held by people who know little or nothing about the region. Others are less ridiculous, and are formed by analysts who have spent years in the region. But everyone, Egyptian and non-Egyptian alike, was taken by surprise by the events of the past few weeks.

I'm not referring here to the protests per se--I think many suspected that at some point in Egyptian history, with the level of political repression that existed, the socio-economic problem that persisted, it would be incredible if there was not some sort of uprising against the state. I personally suspected it might happen sooner rather than later, but I expected it would be more about spontaneous anger at socio-economic disparities, fuelled by political repression, and that it would be incredibly violent.

But here I'm referring to what the protests produced for Egyptian civil society in Tahrir Square and neighborhoods in Egypt during the protest, as well as what began in Egypt immediately after President Hosni Mubarak fell. I term those effects, as well as the effects on the Egyptian diaspora, as "the Square".

It's hard to quantify the change from pre-January 25 to afterwards--but it was a massive sea change. Within Tahrir Square itself, the quasi-autonomous area was very much an Egyptian space--but it was a space whose elements, while recognizable to Egyptians, have not been as noticeable in Egypt in recent years. The level of volunteerism, for example, a culture of which might exist in Egypt, but which was completely vitalized in Tahrir, as people volunteered their time to clean up and provide food and drink to those therein. The respect for pluralism that existed in Tahrir--the easy way that women in face-veils mixed and mingled with women in tank-tops, the way that Christians protected Muslims during Friday prayers and Muslims protected Christians during Sunday services--all of this was the normative Tahrir experience. The incredible politeness of those who searched people entering Tahrir Square for weapons and checked their IDs. As someone who travels a great deal, I can testify to the fact that no one in airport security has ever treated me with the same degree of warmth.

Beyond Tahrir, in the neighborhoods of Egypt, the world had changed. We were all surprised to find that when the police departed the streets and thugs and convicts were roaming freely, instead of Egyptians locking themselves in their homes, they poured out into their neighborhoods to defend themselves. Spontaneously, they formed neighborhood watches and checkpoints, manning them with great decorum and meeting their neighbors in the process. I know that anyone who was a part of those checkpoints and watches was changed by the experience. For many, it was the first time they had really experienced civil society, in a country whose state had ensured that all non-state organized activity was pushed to the margins.

Back in Tahrir Square on the day after Mubarak fell, it was yet again a wonderful explosion of civic consciousness. Young and old, rich and poor, men and women--people from all sectors of society descended upon Tahrir Square to rebuild it. Pavements that had never been painted were now glowing--the streets were cleaner than I can ever remember--and volunteers were frustrated because they had nothing left to do after a few hours. I've never quite witnessed anything like it before, anywhere in the world.

In the weeks and months ahead, it's clear that there will be a need for even more civic actions that uphold the true lessons behind what transpired within the Square--whether in Egypt or abroad. The spirit of Tahrir Square should be multiplied, within Egypt for the sake of the people of this country, and within the world for humanity at large. Tahrir Square should be squared, and continue to be squared, which is why a new website, www.tahrirsquared.net, will be launched in the coming days and weeks to facilitate the multiplication of the power of civil society in Egypt and abroad.

Egypt now stands at the beginning of a new era. It is an era of
uncertainty coupled with hope. Hope, because so many of the limitations that fettered the development of this nation are now gone, and uncertainty, because Egyptians are not quite sure what they are going to do with this new found freedom. They have intentions, but the road ahead is long and arduous. And yet, while they have proven themselves not naive about that road, they have earned the right to walk it in spades. And perhaps, just perhaps, they will surprise the world yet again.-Published 17/2/2011 © bitterlemons-international.org

H. A. Hellyer is a fellow at the University of Warwick in the UK. Throughout the Egyptian uprising, he was in Cairo, raising awareness through the international media, and attending several of the protests.