Video: Egyptians take to the streets on Jan25

A brief look at January 25 through videos I captured, starting from Gameat al-Dowal Street in Mohandiseen into Tahrir Square.

The heart of an activist

Until a few weeks ago, I knew Alaa Abdel Fattah simply as '@alaa,' a handle and a picture I had followed on Twitter for nearly two years.

I didn't realize until he was detained by Egypt's military prosecution last month that Alaa is the brother of Mona Seif, another Tweep I've followed for nearly two years and only met a few months ago and a staunch supporter of Egypt's No Military Trials for Civilians initiative.

On October 30, 2011 Alaa voluntarily responded to a summons by Egypt's military prosecution. In fact, he didn't just respond, he flew back to Egypt from the United States specifically to attend the summons. Alaa is essentially accused of attacking the military during violent clashes that left 27 dead on October 9 (read my experience that night here).

Alaa then refused to be investigated by the military prosecution on the grounds that he is a civilian, and he was consequently remanded into custody for investigation.

He's still in custody.

I've never met Alaa, but there are some things I know about him through others and through the actions of others. I know that Alaa is willing to fight for a cause he believes in. I know that Alaa is a person to be respected, in part because of the massive outpouring of support after his detention. I know that without people like Alaa, Egypt's January uprising would never have begun or been sustained.

Dozens of Egyptian activists and supporters have changed their user pictures on Twitter to versions of Alaa's avatar; a '#freealaa' campaign has flourished; some activists have changed their Facebook pictures to a picture of Alaa; political activist and long-time public figure Gameela Ismail announced a delay in the launch of her electoral campaign over Alaa's imprisonment; and Alaa's mother has begun a hunger strike.

In interviews posted on YouTube, Alaa is thoughtful and somehow reserved, but determined. The night before he flew back to Egypt to respond to the summons, an interviewer asked him why he was going back, why he didn't just stay in the United States.

"I've personally carried the bodies of comrades who did not run away from bullets. I cannot live with myself if I run away from something much more trivial," said Alaa. "How would I look at myself in the mirror if I hide or run away?"

Alaa's wife, Manal, was nine months pregnant with their first child when her husband responded to the military summons. It's reminiscent of Alaa's early years: his father was imprisoned and tortured as a political detainee.

This video gives you a look into the life of Alaa and his parents; how he was raised to be the man he is. In short, it gives some insight into the heart of an activist who embodies the spirit that inspired and sustained Egypt's January uprising; the determination and strength of spirit that continues to give me hope for Egypt's future:

Looking back: Gameela Ismail speaks on January 25

Gameela Ismail speaks from Tahrir on Jan 25 from Sallie Pisch.

Looking back - Tahrir on February 1

Friends,

The following is an article I wrote at midnight last night Cairo time, before Tahrir Square turned into the madness it is in now. Please, read and reflect on what the government is sanctioning here in Egypt.

Egypt Continues to Protest

Internet service in Egypt has been cut almost entirely since midnight Thursday. The government undoubtedly cut service to disrupt coordination among would-be demonstrators in an effort to dissuade Egyptians from protesting.

Two days earlier, on Tuesday, January 25, Egyptians went to the streets in numbers not seen since the 1970’s.

For human rights lawyer Amir Salem, the massive turnout of Egyptians demanding political change is something he never thought he would see. As a young man, Salem participated in the student demonstrations in Egypt in 1973 and 1977.

On the evening of January 25, Salem sat in Cairo’s Tahrir – Liberation – Square. “I was in prison for that demonstration in Tahrir Square” in 1977, he told me. “Now after thirty years I’m here watching the young people, and most of them are the age of my son and daughters. I am very, very happy.”

Wednesday saw a number of violent clashes between police and demonstrators across Egypt and a call for a major demonstration on Friday, January 28, nicknamed the 'Day of Rage.'

Activists frantically made phone calls late into Thursday night in anticipation of the government’s closure of mobile phone service, which indeed occurred around 9am on Friday morning.

“We arranged everything from yesterday because we knew what they would do,” prominent opposition figure George Ishak told me outside a café early on Friday morning. “We are now ready. The plan is ready.”

Some activists worried the lack of communications would stop Egyptians from going out on Friday.

It didn’t.

Egyptians braved tear gas, government thugs with sticks, water hoses, rubber bullets and buckshot-like live fire. In Abdelmonem Riad Square, behind the Egyptian Museum and steps from Tahrir, the afternoon saw a back-and-forth battle between demonstrators and police.

Police shot tear gas at demonstrators. The people kicked it away, threw it back, or tried to put it out. Police threw stones. Demonstrators threw them back. Police shot rubber bullets at demonstrators. Demonstrators set police vans on fire.

As dusk fell, demonstrators stopped retaliating. They lined up and began to pray, meters from where riot police with shields and guns stood in a ragged line. Shortly thereafter, a line of police trucks began moving out of the square and reports came that the army was moving in.

Watching from above, long-time opposition activist Gameela Ismail had tears in her eyes.

“I can’t believe what happened today,” said her teenage son, Shady. “The people beat the police. The police gave up.”

Student Sara Abed participated on Friday in Nasr City and then on the Qasr el-Nil bridge, which leads into Tahrir Square. “I think we made a clear statement to the government, although they are still denying it,” she told me in a café in Cairo's affluent Zamalek neighborhood on Saturday morning. “It’s our right to call for our demands. All the people will protest and they are willing to do it peacefully.”

“We’re not responsible for any damages,” she added. “It started by the government.”

Reports of looting and violence around Cairo had surfaced throughout the night. Downstairs in the café, the cashier was writing out orders and holding the cash in his hand because the cash box had been stolen during the night.

Egyptians have been extremely frustrated with the sporadic violent events. They stress that it is not the demonstrators or the Egyptian people who have been responsible for such acts, but government-hired thugs and plainclothes police officers attempting to convince the people to ask the police to return.

Al-Jazeera reported over the weekend that citizens had arrested a number of government thugs who had broken into the Egyptian Museum. The men, reportedly carrying secret security IDs, were then turned over to the army.

Abed reported seeing citizens standing arm in arm in front of the museum to prevent anyone from entering, something I also witnessed.

Since Friday, demonstrators have congregated in Tahrir Square under the watchful eye of the army. The army was greeted with relief by Egyptian citizens. While officially remaining politically neutral on the situation, the army has maintained the respect and appreciation of the people.

Around 5pm on Tuesday, February 1, two taxi cabs filled koshari, a typical Egyptian fast food dish, pulled up outside the military checkpoint leading into Tahrir Square. One of the cab drivers said the food had been paid for by the army and was to be distributed among the people.

Over a million Egyptians took to the streets across Egypt on Tuesday.

As night fell, Tahrir was still full of people. For the fourth night, people made fires, set up tents and other shelters, and settled in for the night. Groups continued to congregate. Posters with slogans in Arabic, English, and a dozen other languages remained scattered around the square.

Around 11pm, President Hosni Mubarak made a speech announcing he will not run for reelection this fall. As with other attempted concessions, such as dissolving the government and swearing in a Vice President, the statement was received with anger and disdain.

After eight days of protesting, Mubarak has made no indication of stepping down, which is foremost among the demands of the Egyptian people. The people are determined to continue their demonstrations until he does so.

Is it a revolution?

At 8:30pm, thousands are gathered in Tahrir Square in downtown cairo. The exits are secured by volunteers, but people are allowed to exit and re-enter at multiple points. It has been a long day, and it is far from over.

A veiled girl wanders through the crowd collecting money in a helmet to bring food for everyone gathered. Every so often cheers erupt, but things are calm.

A few hours earlier, that wasn't the case. At around 3.30pm, I was with a group of roughly 2,000 Egyptians - young men and women, parents with their children, and elderly people - who made their way from Gameat al-Dowal street through Mohandiseen, across Zamalek, and into Tahrir Square. It wasn't long before State Security drove a truck through the crowd and blasted demonstrators with water. Within moments, however, a brave young man managed to climb on top of the truck and turn the water away. He was removed by plain-clothes security, but he succeeded in turning off the water.

Later, volleys of tear gas were fired into the crowd. They sent streams of white smoke through the air and billowed where they fell. Demonstrators ran from the attack - but they never went far. Despite the tear gas, the water, and falling darkness, Egyptians remained where they stood.

Throughout the march to Tahrir, demonstrators called to citizens watching from balconies: "Come, join us! Come out! Where are Egypt's people?"

Prominent opposition figure Gameela Ismail pleaded with bystanders through the entire march to join. One young woman hid behind a friend, another on a balcony smiled nervously and looked away, but an older veiled woman shrugged and stepped off the sidewalk and into the street.

A man wearing an Egyptian flag tied around his shoulders walked hand in hand with two young sons, with his wife and daughter before him.

While security has used tactics such as tear gas and hoses and many have gathered with sticks, the violence is not as bad as expected, and far from what it could be.

Rumors circulate the crowd in Tahrir that demonstrators in Alexandria and Mahalla have taken over the offices of the ruling National Democratic Party there. It is an extremely symbolic move - and the night is far from over.

Voting results: Qasr el-Nil district

Here are the facts & figures of the Qasr el-Nil election:

• There are 76,000 people registered to vote in the district. 6,235 votes were cast, making voter turnout less than 9%.
• Of those votes, only 5,851 were valid.
• According to the 'official' tally, Hisham Mustafa Khalil received 3,300 votes and Gameela Ismail 1,300. Abzulaziz Mustafa, candidate for the workers' seat, received 3,900.

In order to be declared the winner, a Parliamentary candidate must receive at least 50%+1 of the valid votes in his/her district. In the case of Qasr el-Nil, that would be 2,927 votes.

Gameela Ismail submitted reports contesting the validity of the votes in 8 of the 102 ballot boxes in Qasr el-Nil, which accounted for 1,200 votes. Of the reports, the judge overseeing the district approved one. He did not rule on the other 7. If the judge had accepted her contentions, Khalil would have officially been awarded 2,100 of the votes, which is not 50% of the votes.

There would have been a run-off election between Gameela and Khalil. As it stands, Khalil will be announced the winner of the seat.

The ballot boxes contested by Ismail included boxes from the Cairo Tower polling station, where Gameela's representative as well as representatives of candidate Hamada Morsi witnessed ballot stuffing by Khalil supporters.

Election Updates

9:37am: Gameela is number 14 on the Qasr el-Nil ballot, not 17 as she was initially listed

12:00 noon: Voters at the Maaruf & Tahrir polling station at the Chemistry Authority on Ramsis Street say they have been told to write their full names on their ballots rather than check off the candidate they are casting their vote for. Gameela Ismail has been arguing with the authorities for about half an hour. More security is showing up, no resolution yet. I've spoken with women who say they did write their names and signatures on the ballots. Controversy over whether those votes will be counted or not.

7:50pm: I don't even know where to begin. For now, the facts as I know them: rigged votes were placed in boxes at the television station and the polling station by Cairo Tower. Candidate Hamada Morsi has a bag full of supposed bribe money. Morsi also confronted security and others at the voting locations while they were trying to add votes to ballot boxes. He and his supporters attempted to break the ballot boxes so rigged votes could not be counted.

12:00 midnight: An officer came outside the counting station in Qasr el-Nil to look for some of the election officials. Supposedly they are checking into inconsistencies with certain ballot boxes. Otherwise, all is calm.

First photos of the day: ballot boxes

Here are my first photos of the day, perhaps the first photos of Egypt's 2010 Parliamentary Elections.

Gameela Ismail and I stopped at Salem School in Bulaq at 2:30am. Salem School is the polling station which was mysteriously discovered to have been added to the Qasr el-Nil district yesterday, despite being physically located in Bulaq district rather than Qasr el-Nil.

Outside the school, Gameela's banners and posters were the only ones from Qasr el-Nil which appeared. The other banners were all from Bulaq candidates.

Seventeen voting boxes are supposed to be located at the school. Here you can see the covered ballot boxes in one of the classrooms:

In another classroom we found ballot boxes that had not yet been covered. On the right, the ballot box for the women's quota, which is on a completely separate voting scheme than the regular seats.

On the left, the regular ballot box.

We hurried through the different parts of the school, while the elderly bawab called half-heartedly for us to come back down, that there was nothing to see. Shortly before leaving we encountered the two men who were arranging the classrooms. They insisted emphatically that there would be no voting for Qasr el-Nil at Salem School. One of them even got a superior on the phone, and after a long conversation again relayed that only voting for Bulaq would take place at the school.

Gameela was doubtful, the head police officer of Qasr el-Nil had informed her the school was indeed a polling station. Additionally, it was on the official list of polling stations for Qasr el-Nil.

Later that night, another candidate visited the Bulaq police station and found two ballot boxes already full of votes. More information to come as soon as I get my hands on it.

Stay tuned for updates.

Update 8:22am: From what I have gathered, the person who found the prepared ballot boxes was unable to file a police report over them because they were wrapped in cellophane. Essentially, he couldn't prove what was inside them, although it was obvious what they were. Journalist Ian Lee has reported a similar story from Alexandria: he saw packages with wax seals leave a polling station about an hour ago. A man holding one said they were t-shirts.

Egypt: On the Eve of Elections

Gameela Ismail campaigning before elections

Tomorrow Egypt will hold parliamentary elections. The world is watching and the government is ready. Reports of irregularities are already making local and international news. Everyone wonders what will happen - will the opposition win any seats? What about the Muslim Brotherhood? Perhaps most importantly: will the vote be fair?

It's important for observers to realize what appears on Egypt's surface and what happens under it are two entirely different things.

One of the best pieces of advice I received back when I was doing research for a capstone thesis on current Egyptian politics was to try to be as Egyptian as possible when looking at what was happening around me. It sounds simple, but it is both difficult and vitally important. It's like looking at an orange and breaking it open to find an onion.

Here are a few quick facts about Egyptian politics:

1. Egypt is a dictatorship. Egypt's 82-year-old president, Hosni Mubarak, has held the position for thirty years.  This makes him Egypt's third-longest ruler ever, including the pharaohs of old. One way Mubarak holds onto his power is through the army. Egypt has lived under Emergency Law - essentially military rule - since Anwar Sadat was assassinated thirty years ago.
2. Egypt does not have a pluralistic political system. Many outsiders look at Egyptians politics, see the names of many political parties, and come to the conclusion that there is a vibrant, pluralistic political life. In reality, nearly all of Egypt's "opposition" parties have deals with the government whereby they act like opposition for the media in return for certain political or other benefits.
3. Egyptian elections are neither free nor fair. Egyptians know this. It contributes to the extreme apathy most Egyptians feel. Additionally, Egyptian politicians buy votes. Outright. Egyptians know this as well, and some even call candidates to find out who will pay the most for their vote.
4. Egyptians are terrified of their government. There are exceptions of course, but many Egyptians would literally start shaking in their boots if someone confronted them with criticism of the government. They whisper that there is always someone listening - and usually, they're right.

Gearing up for tomorrow's elections, the regime has already made it difficult for candidates or observers to expect a fair race. In 2005, the elections were spread out over a period of time to ensure each polling station would be overseen by a judge. This year, all the elections will take place in one day - meaning there is no possible way for judicial oversight.

Secondly, the government waited until a month before the election to announce its official date. It also stipulated that campaigning would only be permitted starting fourteen days before the election. The campaign period was strategically scheduled during a major, week-long Islamic holiday.

More recently, the government has stated that journalists will need special passes to report on the elections and that Egyptian civil society has the right to observe the elections, but not the right to monitor them.

Getting around the restrictions

There is always an exception to the rule. In the case of this year's parliamentary elections, that exception may well be independent candidate Gameela Ismail (for more about Gameela, check out my earlier post about campaigning with her).

"I am outside the regime's calculations," Gameela told me a few weeks ago, just after she had submitted her papers to run for parliament in Qasr el-Nil, a strategic district in downtown Cairo. To outsiders, it may seem impossible an impossible battle.

Yet Gameela may have exactly what it takes to get around the regime's restrictions. Gameela has battled Egyptian State Security for years and knows exactly what it is capable of.

The combination of Gameela's knowledge of State Security's tricks and their strong desire to keep her at arm's length could serve her well in Sunday's polls. Gameela knows how to deal with State Security and State Security knows better than to make her mad. She'll sit in their offices or keep them standing in the street until she gets what she wants - I've witnessed both tactics.

Over the past few days, many independent and opposition candidates have found their petitions to have representatives in the polling stations on Election Day denied outright. Gameela had a day-long verbal battle with State Security in Qasr el-Nil, but at the end of the day she got what she wanted: permission for her representatives to be in the polling stations.

(Representatives are allowed to remain inside the polling stations to keep an eye on the ballot boxes and watch for irregularities.)

Will it be enough to win her the election? Maybe not, but she has a fighting chance.

Voting stations changed, Ismail considering withdrawal

Less than 24 hours before Egypt's Parliamentary elections, authorities have rearranged which polling stations voters should report to in the strategic Qasr el-Nil district in downtown Cairo. The change was discovered less than two hours ago when independent candidate Gameela Ismail arrived at the Qasr el-Nil police station to file her list of representatives for the district. Representatives are permitted to remain inside polling stations and watch for irregularities.

Representatives may only observe in the polling station to which they are assigned to vote. The last-minute rearrangement means many of Ismai's representatives - and those of other candidates - are no longer valid, as they are now assigned to different polling stations.

The woman in charge of the lists at the Qasr el-Nil station told Ismail it would be impossible to provide her with a copy of the new lists by 5pm, the deadline for turning in the paperwork for representatives.

"How can I communicate with people quickly to find new representatives?" Ismail asked.

She threatened to withdraw from the race if the issue was not resolved before five pm. "I will not run if there is no judiciary oversight and no representatives watching the boxes," she said.

UPDATE: By late afternoon, authorities at two different police stations sorted out their issues and assured Gameela that there was no problem and voting lists had not been changed. She held her press conference - late - and confirmed that she would be running in tomorrow's elections.

In other news, it has just been discovered that there is another polling station in Qasr el-Nil, which no one knew about. Who is supposed to vote there is still unclear. 

Campaigning with Gameela: Day Two

Gameela speaks to residens of the poverty-stricken
Bulaq neighborhood

A dozen young men and women spread down the street, handing out pamphlets and holding large, black-white-and-red posters. Not far behind, a woman with bright, smiling eyes followed, shaking hands and speaking with shopkeepers and residents. Four television cameras and a half-dozen journalists and photographers observed her every move, capturing her interactions on film.

Yesterday was my second day following the parliamentary campaign of prominent public figure Gameela Ismail. Gameela is running for parliament in Qasr el-Nil, a key district in downtown Cairo, against seasoned ruling-party politician Hisham Mostafa Khalil (Khalil's father was once Prime Minister of Egypt).

Gameela has seen and experienced more in the way of dirty politics than most Americans or Europeans could imagine. She learned how to deal with campaign tricks when she ran for Shura Council in 2001, and again when she ran Ayman Nour’s presidential campaign in 2005. When Nour was imprisoned under false pretenses, Gameela managed to raise their two sons and keep the political party running for the next four years, despite constant harassment from the government. She received phone calls late at night threatening the safety of her children, and was even caught inside the party headquarters when a rival faction attempted to burn them down. Gameela survived these trials and became known and respected throughout Egypt for her strength and courage.

After everything she has faced in her fight for democracy and civil rights in Egypt, Gameela is running for parliament against a strong government force. Why? Because she refuses to stand by and watch a parliamentary campaign with no worthy candidates in the district where she has spent her entire life.

And she thinks she has a chance to win.

Gameela speaks to media outside the
Gezira School in Zamalek

The morning began outside Cilantro cafe in Zamalek at 7:30am. More than twenty State Security officers were prowling the area when Gameela’s car pulled up. As her son and sister-in-law covered the car with election posters, Gameela spoke to the already waiting media – CNN, another television crew, German and Japanese reporters – and a half-dozen of her supporters.

The morning was spent visiting schools in the Zamalek area. Soon, a total of four television cameras were following Gameela – CNN, BBC, and two programs from Dream TV – in addition to reporters and a dozen of Gameela’s supporters.

The group then headed downtown to the Mugamma. The Mugamma is a giant, Soviet-looking building smack in the middle of Midan Tahrir, one of Cairo’s most important squares (also home to the Egyptian Museum and the old campus of the American University in Cairo). Gameela considers the Mugamma to be the biggest mark of the State – and she is right. Everyone, from Egyptians needing identity cards to foreigners obtaining visas, must pass through the Mugamma’s doors at least once during their lives in Egypt.

Outside the entrance the thirty or so people now in Gameela's entourage set up camp – supporters passed out Gameela’s pamphlets while reporters filmed Gameela’s interactions with security outside the Mugamma, who were reluctant to let any of the group inside the building and were extremely uncomfortable with the presence of TV cameras. Finally Gameela entered the building with a dozen or so supporters, but without the television crews.

Hanging Gameela's poster on a
wall inside the Mugamma

She headed straight for the Ministry of Education, where she knocked on every door and introduced herself to everyone she encountered. Even here, in this important Government building, the people were receptive to her. They hung her posters on their walls. “The people were so brave,” Gameela said later. “They spoke up loudly against the government.”

Eventually the group made its way out of the Mugamma and moved to one of the poorest areas in Gameela’s district. That is where my story began – as Gameela moved through the streets speaking with potential voters. It’s a hard battle here: the people like Gameela, and many would support her. But unlike the other candidates, Gameela refuses to buy votes.

“A few days ago, this woman’s sister called me,” Gameela told the group, referring to a woman she had just met. “She said, we like you, we want to support you. How much are you paying?”

Gameela's poster hangs over a
shop in Bulaq

The woman's query literally meant, how much money will you give us to vote for you. In many ways it is endemic corruption. Candidates offer poor Egyptians 500 Egyptian Pounds – less than US $100 – for their votes. Half is paid up front, the other half after they take a picture of their ballots with their mobile phones. Then, whoever wins disappears for the next five years.

Gameela wants to change this. “I want the people to understand that I will not pay them for their votes, but that if I win I will work for them for free for the next five years,” she said.

It will be a difficult battle, and only days remain before the elections take place. Bizarrely, the Egyptian government only allows fourteen days of campaigning before elections take place.

Surrounded by a mixed group of journalists, supporters, and potential voters, Gameela pauses to look up at someone speaking to her from their window. Behind her, a young man holds her election poster high, creating a backdrop. She smiles, and the expression on her face echoes the one on her poster – she is looking toward the future with hope, and perhaps that is the key that will help her effect her vision for Qasr el-Nil, and perhaps, eventually, for her country.

Gameela Ismail's Facebook account disabled by Facebook

Prominent public figure Gameela Ismail's Facebook account was disabled today. A report has been filed to Facebook, but no response received yet. Gameela believes the action must be politically motivated in regard to something she posted yesterday.

She did not turn off her account - it was disabled by Facebook for violating it's terms of use, which includes things such as using a fake name, impersonating someone, or harassment. Gameela had not engaged in any such violations.

Will update with more info if/when available.

Egyptian State Security intimidated by two women

Our female 'babysitter'

Today was somewhat fascinating from an objective perspective, if intensely boring for those actually involved.

I spent three and a half hours standing in the street with prominent public figure and activist Gameela Ismail this afternoon, after we were prevented from reaching our intended destination by Egyptian State Security. While droves of young football fans were rioting in Zamalek and over 1,000 demonstrators (according to the accounts of others) were gathered near Abdeen Palace, Gameela and I were apparently important enough to have the attention of more than a dozen high-level security officers and the divided attention of around 80 uniformed and plain-clothes police. Who knew two women needed so many babysitters!

Gameela and I reached a side street leading to Abdeen Square - where the President lives, in Abdeen Palace - around 4:15pm. We were stopped just steps from the square itself by a handful of plainclothes officers. They instantly recognized Gameela, who is something of an icon to Egyptians (wife of former Presidential candidate Ayman Nour, Gameela has become an advocate for women's, human, and civil rights, and is extremely active in fighting the regime). Within moments, the number of officers around us multiplied and we were also joined by three women, one in uniform.

Over the next three and a half hours, our babysitters consistantly refused to let us enter Abdeen Square. They tried to get us to go around by means of a narrow alleyway, but Gameela and I were smart enough not to fall for that. Uniformed and plainclothes police diverted pedestrians, and one high-ranking plainclothes officer even told passerby not to look at us.

While being kept from the demonstration - which we could neither see nor hear - was frustrating, I did find it telling that State Security found it necessary to spend so many resources on two women, especially after it became clear that other demonstrators were not coming to our location. Yet our security remained tight, particularly after Gameela managed to move about 5 meters closer to the square when our babysitters were distracted. We were closely surrounded by a group of fifteen uniformed and plainclothes police, and the uniformed female officer and another plainclothes office joined us in our little circle. At least 30 other State Security members watched us from within 30 meters, with others spread beyond that.

Around 7:30pm we learned, via phone and Twitter, that the day's protest was winding down. A few minutes later Gameela told the lead babysitter 'salam w'alaikom' and we walked past our guards away from the square, back towards the car, and left.

What I have to wonder is why we were so interesting. Even if the large numbers of state security were mere coincidence, why was it necessary to keep us so surrounded, particularly when we were still clearly in the eye of passerby? Why was state security so intent to keep Gameela from joining the protest, when other figures such as Ayman Nour and Hamdeen Sabbahi were already there? Is Egypt's State Security really that scared of Gameela Ismail?