What's the use of one more blog post?

Over the years this blog has become less personal and more of an outlet for current events in Egypt or socio-political commentary, sometimes based on personal experience.

This post will be very personal.

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The tweet read, “All I could see was leering faces . . sneering & jeering as I was tossed around like fresh meat among starving lions”.

Another woman attacked in Tahrir Square. I knew without opening the attached link. I opened it anyway. I didn’t want to read the story; I had to.

The most detailed first-person account of a sexual attack in Tahrir I’ve ever read. That’s what was in the link. I was sitting in a noisy café listening to – of all things – a song called “Past the Point of No Return.” I turned it off, and I read.

I was stripped naked… Hundreds of men… forcing their fingers inside me in every possible way… A small minority of men… tried to protect me… I felt surprisingly calm… Please God. Please make it stop… Women surrounded me and tried to cover my naked body… The men outside… wanted my blood… I was barefoot, dodging broken glass… We eventually… reached a government hospital… we were turned away… “Are you married? A virgin?”… I was refused examination and treatment.

An hour later I can’t get her words out of my head.

What if it had been me?

I was physically harassed once during the 30 months I’ve spent in Cairo. In comparison it was nothing. Yet a year and a half later I refuse to go anywhere in Maadi by myself because the memory makes me ill and nervous (Maadi has the highest concentration of Western foreigners of any neighborhood in Cairo).

It unnerved me enough that this is only the third time I’ve ever mentioned the incident.

I may not be blonde, but I’m young and pretty with fair skin and light eyes. I speak enough Arabic to talk to a cab driver but no more. Sure, I’m good at reading crowds. I’ve been going to Egyptian demonstrations longer than most Egyptians. Yes, I’ve actually taken a class on risk management.

But the crowd can change in a moment.

I’m not infallible. Gut instinct is not infallible. What if, wanting that one last photo, I stayed just a minute too long? What if the situation changed too quickly for me to get away? What if I got caught up in a conversation and didn’t notice the crowd shift?

What if, what if, what if.

They’re useless but I can’t get them out of my head. I keep picturing myself – graphically – in this woman’s position. I picture my reflection in the mirror. It’s terrifying.

 I love Egypt. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. There are things I hate but I’m still here and I don’t want to leave. At the same time, I came to Egypt as a journalist and I haven’t gone to Tahrir Square in weeks.

I tell myself I’m being lazy, that I should go down and take some pictures and judge the feel of the crowd for myself. After all, I was in Tahrir Square on the 25^th and the 28^th of January. I was by Maspiro the night dozens were killed in clashes between Coptic Christian demonstrators and the military. I was in Mohamed Mahmoud Street choking on tear gas alongside Egyptian men and women last November.

But as more and more women report graphic sexual assaults in Tahrir I’m terrified I’ll be next. I loathe that fear almost more than I loathe the fact that the fear is warranted.

I remember going to Tahrir and not being touched by a single man, except honest-to-goodness accidents. The last few weeks, I don’t know a single female who has gone to Tahrir without being groped at least once.

So what do I do? Stay safely in Zamalek and talk politics with my friends? Offer opinions on the “current situation” without actually going out in the streets, something I love? Pack up and move somewhere I can wear skirts and sleeveless shirts without a leering man with a disgusting comment on every single street corner?

Scratch that option. Recent statistics show at least 1 in 6 college-age men in America will admit to raping a woman in anonymous surveys, so long as the word ‘rape’ is left out of the definition (“rape” is defined by the insertion of any object into any orifice of the body without consent).

Anyone who knows me knows if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s helpless. Yet against this I am utterly and completely helpless. It’s frustrating and infuriating and I feel I’m losing a battle I have no idea how to fight.

I almost didn’t post this. I thought, what’s the use of one more blog post? But we cannot doubt the power of our own voices. Eventually it will be that one pissed off woman outing her harasser in the street, that one man jumping between a woman and her attacker, maybe even that one angry blog post that tips the balance.

If we – men and women – stay silent, we will lose. So be loud. Be insistent. Make a scene and refuse to be silenced and we will win.

In Egypt, conspiracy theories sometimes have merit

Armed bank robbery. Scores killed in a football brawl. American tourists kidnapped.

One year after the uprising that sparked national pride and hope in Egyptians, the wave of unprecedented incidents – as well as renewed clashes between demonstrators and police in downtown Cairo – has many asking: What is happening, and why?

Many believe the incidents of the past few days are anything but coincidence, and with reason. Just days before masked gunmen robbed the HSBC bank in New Cairo, an upscale Cairo suburb, Egypt’s de-facto ruler cancelled the country’s three-decade-old Emergency Law.

Put into effect in the wake of late President Anwar Sadat’s assassination in 1981, the series of laws prohibit more than five persons from gathering in one place without prior permission and allow search and seizure without a warrant, among other things.

The first armed bank robbery in modern Egyptian history occurring just after the cancellation of the law seems unlikely to be pure coincidence.

And despite an age-old rivalry between Cairo football team al-Ahly and Port Said team al-Masry, Egyptians refuse to accept that mere team rivalry is to blame for the 73 deaths after Wednesday night’s match in Port Said.

Many have questioned the inaction of the country’s hated Central Security Forces, who stood by and watched the violence instead of intervening to stop it. One match-goer said he and others were not searched by security upon entering the stadium, perhaps explaining how some al-Masry fans were able to enter the match with knives.

The real question is whether recent events are an honest representation of Egypt without the Emergency Law or whether someone – the ‘who’ is as always unclear – is orchestrating events.

One theory is that the government or the ruling military council – in power since former president Hosni Mubarak stepped down in February 2011 – is stirring up trouble as an excuse to reinstate the Emergency Law. Removing the law was one of demonstrators’ primary demands during the 2011 uprising, and remained a source of contention as the military continually delayed its repeal.

Others blame the ubiquitous “foreign hand.” One theory reported on state television today was that the ongoing clashes in downtown Cairo are a US-German plot in retaliation for the Egyptian government’s raid on a series of foreign NGOs earlier this year.

Both suggestions may sound like conspiracy theories, but in Egypt conspiracy theories are selcdom as impossible as they seem.

In one example, documents “liberated” by Egyptians citizens during the so-called Amn Dawla Leaks last spring revealed former Interior Minister Habib al-Adly was involved in the New Year’s Eve bombing outside an Alexandrian church that shocked the country.

The government had tried to pin the incident on an al-Qaeda faction based in the Gaza Strip.

Today images of clashes between demonstrators and police glare once more from television screens. The upraised arms of demonstrators and the unfaltering wave of an Egyptian flag can be seen through a foggy haze of tear gas. Both sides throw stones, and the wail of an ambulance occasionally cuts through the dull roar of the clashes and the television presenter’s voice.

The images are painfully and eerily reminiscent of earlier clashes: the battle of Mohamed Mahmoud in November 2011, the June 28 clashes, and, perhaps most poignantly, the infamous Battle of the Camels.

On February 2, 2011 Egyptians watched and lived in horror as men on horses and camels and wielding clubs and machetes attacked what for nearly five days had been a peaceful demonstration in Tahrir Square. Yesterday, exactly one year later, the current clashes began, sparked by the deaths of more than 70 people at a football match.

Public opinion is sharply divided.

“This had to happen,” said one young Egyptian, watching the images today on the television in a small town an hour outside Cairo. “The revolution has to continue.”

Others fear the economic impact of continued clashes.

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.

Questions over type of gas used against Egypt demonstrators remain unanswered

Every Egyptian who was in the streets during Egypt’s January uprising, it seems, insists the gas used against demonstrators over the past five days is much stronger than what was used in January.

There are rumors that Egyptian Central Security Forces are not using CS gas, known as ‘tear gas’ and commonly used to disperse demonstrations, but the more debilitating CR gas. One difference in the substances is that while water dilutes CS gas, it exacerbates the effects of CR gas.

Some have claimed that there are nerve agents in the gases used against demonstrators in Mohamed Mahmoud Street, which connects Cairo’s iconic Tahrir Square to the Ministry of Interior in downtown Cairo.

Even Mohamed el-Baradei, a popular presidential hopeful and former director of the UN’s nuclear watchdog agency, has suggested that the gas used by riot police against demonstrators isn’t just tear gas.

“Tear gas with nerve agents and live ammunition are being used against civilians,” Baradei said on his official Twitter account on Tuesday. “A massacre is taking place.”

According to Ministry of Health figures, at least 35 people have been killed since clashes broke out between demonstrators and CSF on Saturday morning. Thousands have been injured.

Medics on the scene say the symptoms they have seen over the past five days are completely different from those they saw during demonstrations in January.

One medic told me today that the chest pain, convulsions and seizures caused by the gas during the past weel were not seen at all in January.

Many consider this proof that a different gas is being used.

However, there is another factor: the vast majority of the gas used in January was expired. Most canisters listed a manufacture date of 1999 with a five-year shelf life. The majority of the canisters seen over the past five days - either personally or in photos - were manufactured in August 2010 and consequently are not expired.

“It’s possible,” one medic told me when asked if the new symptoms could simply be from non-expired tear gas. “We won’t know until it’s tested in the lab.”

Two medics today told me that Human Rights Watch and other international NGOs have taken samples of the gases and canisters to determine what they are.

Many gas canisters are marked ‘RIOT CS SMOKE,’ but many more bear no markings whatsoever.

Another medic said samples analyzed in the pharmacy revealed minute traces of cyanide, an extremely deadly poison.

No other sources have confirmed or denied this, and me was not given access to the report.

The Egyptian Ministry of Health says it is also analyzing samples and will reveal the full results without holding anything back.

Some, however, are skeptical.

“We can’t trust what the Ministry of Health says,” one medic in Tahrir Square told me. “They won’t tell us the truth.”

The names of the medics who spoke to me have been withheld for their safety.

This post was initially published at Youm7 English Edition (offline since Jan 2012).

Tear-gassed childhood

A child should never have to know what tear gas is, much less experience it.

Video: Mohamed Mahmoud clashes

Short video of the first of now three days of clashes between Egyptian protesters and riot police on the streets of downtown Cairo.

To tell the story of Egyptians with humanity

I'll be honest: sometimes I wonder why I'm a journalist in Egypt.

Cairo is a dirty, polluted, crowded city. The streets are littered with trash; sand incessantly finds its way into my living room; my family is six timezones away. Everyone is always late, it's impossible to get sources to answer their phones, and Tweeps are more reliable fact checkers than state media.

Last night, for the first time in a long time, I was reminded why I bother: it's because I want to tell the story of the Egyptians. It's because of the never-ending Egyptian humor; the smiles in the face of poverty; the perseverance in the face of persecution. It's because of the slow, steady determination that has kept Egyptians and the Egyptian identity intact over millennia, through invasion, occupation, and oppression.

It's because Egyptians inspire me.

Last night BBC correspondent Lyse Doucet spoke at a gathering of Egyptian and American journalists in Cairo. Her frank speech moved me - and others - nearly to tears. She spoke of objectivity; of obligation; of what it means to be a journalist in a conflict zone. She reminded me why I am a journalist, here and now, and why I care about reporting on Egypt.

"When you cover a happy story, cover it with joy," she said. "When you cover a sad story, cover it with compassion."

To be objective does not mean to be heartless. A good journalist must write with humanity.

I've often wondered what, exactly, is my role - as a foreigner and as a journalist - in Egypt. Both foreigners and Egyptians have told me I don't belong here, and both foreigners and Egyptians have told me I tell the story better than anyone else. I've written before about the line between professionalism and humanity, and that's something that comes to mind again and again.

Before Egypt's January uprising, as a foreigner, I was looked upon with suspicion. As a foreigner, I was thanked profusely. After Egypt's January uprising, as a foreigner, I am looked upon with suspicion. As a foreigner, I am thanked profusely.

It's a bit strange sometimes.

As a journalist, I am obligated to tell the truth as I see it at the time. I am obligated to tell both sides of the story. I am obligated to be objective.

But on January 26, 2011 I watched as a group of young men - unarmed, with their hands in the air as they chanted peaceful, peaceful - were without warning attacked with tear gas, tasers, sticks, and firearms by both uniformed and plainclothes police in the streets of downtown Cairo.

What is the other side of that story?

I don't know.

So what can I do, as a foreign journalist in Egypt? I can write. I can tell the truth, and I can tell it with joy and compassion, which so often seems to be lacking from mainstream media. I can tell the stories of a people and a place that have become dear to my heart, and I can do it in a way many other journalists either cannot or will not.

I've been told I have a way with words. I've been told I can draw people into my writing. I can use that way with words, coupled with common sense and a solid understanding of Egypt's politics and people, and I can tell the story of Egyptians.

That's why I'm a journalist in Egypt.

"The military has thugs," he told me

The hoarse cry came from a man dashing across Cairo’s Abdel Moneim Reyad Square on Sunday night. “The military has thugs! The military has thugs!”

He paused long enough to reiterate the statement to myself and another female journo moving in the opposite direction – “The military has thugs!” – before continuing toward nearby Tahrir Square, the epicenter of Egypt’s January 25 Revolution.

Behind him, a group of military police became clearly visible as they rounded a corner. Among the uniforms were people in plainclothes carrying large sticks and clubs.

The clubs started to swing, and those still in the square ran for cover.

It was around 8pm. The clashes began hours earlier. “This feels like the 28th of January,” someone said, referencing Egypt's 'Day of Rage,' one of the most violent days of the uprising that toppled Egypt’s former regime earlier this year.

The cat-and-mouse game between military police and demonstrators continued into the night as wild rumors spread.

Near the Egyptian Museum, a group of four young people glanced between their cell phones and the scene around them, probably updating Twitter on the situation and their safety.

Twitter is a primary means for activists to keep tabs on each other during demonstrations in Egypt.

Earlier in the evening, the area by the Ramsis Hilton where the military police entered Abdel Moneim Reyad Square was occupied by demonstrators. This was where they carried the wounded from Maspiro, the nearby site of ongoing clashes between Coptic Christian demonstrators, military police and unknown plainclothes persons.

The clashes left at least 26 dead, according to the most recent figures from the Ministry of Health.

Some activists put the number much higher.

Clashes began when unknown persons attacked a Coptic Christian demonstration. When military police  finally intervened it was not to protect the demonstrators, according to eyewitnesses.

Christian demonstrators seeking refuge by the Hilton from the violence and tear gas told me, “The army is killing Christians.”

As the situation around the Hilton intensified, young men directed traffic away from the area. An armed personnel carrier and other vehicles burned, sending a dense black smoke into the air above the Nile.

A fire truck arrived, presumably to put out the fires. It was greeted with stones and rocks, but eventually allowed to pass.

Outside the Hilton, cries of the injured permeated sporadic chants of, “The people want the fall of the musheer,” Egypt’s military ruler, and “Where are our rights?”

One man’s screams faded into dull moans as he was placed on the ground after being carried from Maspiro on a blanket. A group of young men kept the crowd back to give the injured man air, only allowing me, as a photographer, near him, so I could document “what the army did to the Christians.”

A sudden stir in the crowd announced the arrival of Bothaina Kamel, the only woman to announce her candidacy for the Egyptian presidency so far. Wearing a bright orange reflective vest, Bothaina moved quickly through the crowd toward the Nile, the latest location of clashes between military police and demonstrators.

Many Muslims quickly joined their Christian brothers after clashes began. A Coptic man named Nabil told me that Muslims had saved his life twice that night.

Outside the Hilton, one Copt held a string of Muslim prayer beads along with his cross. “Both Muslim and Christian are here,” said another.

“Heard a Muslim guy urging other protesters, ‘let’s head to the front, I’m not gonna let the Christians take a bullet alone,’” tweeted activist Mosa’ab Elshamy. Such poignant moments are reminiscent of the early days of the Egyptian revolution, when Coptic Christians joined hands to protect their Muslim countrymen as they prayed in the streets.

Many Christians were angry, saying they felt they were being targeted. Coptic Christians comprise around 10 percent of Egypt’s population, and often say they are not treated equally to the Muslim majority.

“Christians will live in Egypt forever,” said one Coptic man, angrily blaming the extremist Islamic Salafi trend for being behind attacks against Christians. “They will not make us leave.”

While one man asked repeatedly, “Where is the United Nations?,” another insisted, “We are not asking for international protection.”

A number of activists reported a very different show of solidarity: “I cannot believe it the battle is over and the people who were hitting us from the other side have joined us,” tweeted Lilian Wagdy, an activist on the ground.

A few hours later, popular ‘tweep’ Mahmoud Salem, known on Twitter as ‘Sandmonkey,’ relayed a similar situation. He reported clashes between groups of Egyptians, all in plainclothes, with one side chanting, “The people and the army are one hand” and the other side “Muslims and Christians are one hand.”

Then, he tweeted, “In a very weird moment, both sides started chanting ‘one hand,’ stopped fighting, joined each other into one big marsh.”

At some point, the rumors started to fly, by word of mouth, on Twitter, and in the media.

Among the quickest to spread were claims that U.S. Secretary of State Hilary Clinton had announced that the U.S. would send troops to Egypt to protect Christian churches.

While the United States and the U.S. Embassy in Cairo emphatically denied the rumor, it still made the front page of some Egyptian newspapers on Monday morning.

Another rumor that has proven impossible to confirm claimed someone – either thugs or military personnel – threw dead bodies into the Nile. I have been unable to locate an eyewitness to this incident.

“I say again, I saw three military police throw dead bodies in the Nile, and another body was under their feet,” wrote Mohamed Elmoshir on Twitter.

Some rumors were true: shortly before midnight, I witnessed a military soldier shoot live ammunition in Tahrir Square, and videos of military vehicles driving at reckless speeds through crowds of demonstrators quickly appeared on YouTube.

As Monday dawned, Egyptians were angry, scared, saddened, and, perhaps most of all, worried. What would happen next? What did clashes between the army and the people mean for the transitional period? Blame for last night’s events has been placed on everyone from the demonstrators to Salafis to elements of Egypt’s formerly ruling regime to the military to the ubiquitous “foreign hand.”

One image, provided to the AUC Caravan, perhaps best illustrates the divisions and solidarity on both sides of the battle. In it, a uniformed military soldier carries an injured boy down a debris-strewn street. Another boy and a man in civilian clothes follow the soldier.

In the background, military soldiers and civilians stand, motionless.

**A version of this post was originally published at Youm7 English Edition (offline since Jan 2012).

Egypt policeman dances with sword during clashes

This video by independent Egyptian newspaper Al-Masry Al-Youm is one of the most disturbing things I've seen lately: as his colleagues throw stones at demonstrators in downtown Cairo on Wednesday morning, one soldier (likely a higher rank, as he isn't wearing a helmet or shield) dances around waving a machete and a long police baton.

Everyone around him completely ignores him:

Why the international media gets Egypt wrong

An article by the Associated Press today began, “the long banned Muslim Brotherhood has been recognized as the Freedom and Justice Party.”

That’s not quite true.

What the article means to say is that the Freedom and Justice Party, founded by the long banned Muslim Brotherhood, has been recognized.

The difference is significant.

While Egypt’s political scene has accepted the Muslim Brotherhood as a legitimate actor, the organization which has been banned for decades is still, officially, banned. The Freedom and Justice Party was indeed founded by the Brotherhood and in the party the Brotherhood has its first legal political entity.

However, the party does not exclusively contain Brotherhood members, nor are all members of the Brotherhood automatically members of the party. According to one of the party’s founders, 25 percent of its members are not affiliated with the Brotherhood. What’s more, around 8 percent are women and Coptic Christians.

It remains to be seen how the party’s relationship with the Brotherhood will play out, but technically the Associated Press got its facts wrong.

This is only one small example of the international media’s frequent mistake when it comes to Egypt and the wider Arab world: they see only the surface and do not know, or do not understand, the nuances.

The problem is twofold: first, manpower and resources. Second, the target audience is, usually, not the Middle East.

The issue of distributing resources is something all newspapers and news agencies must come to terms with. International agencies must cover the entire world and consequently cannot devote too many resources to any one area. That said, the entire world is watching the Middle East now more than ever and consequently it is more important to get the facts straight than ever before. Small slip-ups could have far-reaching implications.

The second issue is arguably more important. News agencies want their stories to be understandable. It is one of the fundamental principles of journalism: convey your story to your reader so they understand what you’re talking about. But oversimplification to this extent does not help anyone. It certainly does not help the “West” understand the Arab world.

Journalism’s goal is not to defeat misperceptions, but the international media must learn to balance the simple goal of telling the news with a more complex duty to portray more than the surface of its subject.

When it comes to the Arab world, too often foreign media takes the easy road: they report what they see with their own eyes and talk with people it’s easy to talk to. Namely, other journalists and people who speak their language or are of their own social class.

Watching coverage of the Egyptian Revolution in the United States, many Americans thought to themselves, “Hey, it looks like America succeeded in Egypt. Everyone speaks English.”

Those reporting the world-changing events taking place in Cairo’s now-iconic Tahrir Square made the vital mistake of interviewing predominantly English-speaking Egyptians, probably because it was easier.

In the short-term such reporting may be easier. In the long-term, however, this sort of reporting misses what’s actually happening on the ground; it misses the opportunity to portray a different culture and a different way of thinking in a way its target audience – in this case, the Western world – can understand.

This is why the international media consistently gets Egypt wrong, and probably part of the reasons misconceptions about the region continue to prevail. It is no longer acceptable to skim the surface and write the easy story – if it ever was. The world does not only want the surface news. The world wants to understand Egypt.

This article was originally published at Youm7 English Edition on June 7, 2011.

Will Egyptians forgive the army's mistakes?

Egyptians love and respect their armed forces. Ever since the Egyptian army reclaimed the Sinai Peninsula from Israel in 1973, the army has been held in high regard by the people.

When military tanks rolled into Cairo on the evening of January 28, they were greeted with cheers, kisses, and flowers. On that Friday, they were received as saviors from the brutality of Egypt’s hated Central Security Forces, who for four days had attempted to put down the Egyptian uprising by using force against unarmed demonstrators. Finally, the army had arrived.

As demonstrations continued in Tahrir Square, tanks were covered with men, women, and children waving the Egyptian flag. Army personnel were greeted with smiles across the city, and they remained true to their word: they did not use violence against the demonstrators.

The Supreme Council of the Armed Forces was charged with the country’s administration on February 11, when Hosni Mubarak resigned from the presidency after thirty years in power. For the most part, Egypt’s people approved. There was some resignation, but the military is one of the few institutions most Egyptians trust.

Around the time of Mubarak’s resignation, there were whispers that the army was detaining people and holding them in the Egyptian Museum, located on the edge of Tahrir Square. The news stirred some talk, but it soon died down.

Over the past few days, however, the army’s relationship with the people has been tested. On Friday night, military police surrounded demonstrators outside the Egyptian parliament in downtown Cairo and instructed journalists to leave. In Tahrir Square, the army took down tents and chased demonstrators from the square with sticks and tasers.

Egyptians were outraged.

The incidents took place well after midnight, around 2am. “Why are they surrounding us, civilians, with weapons?!” asked Gigi Ibrahim, a young activist who has become a recognized and semi-permanent face in Tahrir Square. “The army is the same as the Central Security, just in different clothes,” wrote angry Egyptians on Twitter. Comparing the highly respected army to the hated and feared security forces shows how deeply shaken Egyptians were by the army’s actions.

It was a severe blow to their faith in the armed forces.

The next morning, cafes were buzzing with the news, as were social networking sites such as Facebook and Twitter. Some argued that the army was trying to enforce the curfew – which should run from midnight to 6am, and which demonstrators have mostly ignored – but had gone about doing so the wrong way. Some said the army was unused to dealing with civilians, others said its actions were inexcusable.

On Saturday night, dozens of groups of friends sat in plastic chairs drinking tea or Turkish coffee around small tables at El Boursa, a group of cafes in the financial district in downtown Cairo. Many were discussing the recently announced constitutional amendments, but the discussion inevitably turned to the incident with the army.

“What happened last night is very bad,” commented an elderly artist who had been an activist in his youth. Behind his glasses, his eyes were troubled.

Haitham, a young activist and member of the al-Ghad liberal party, was also concerned. “How could this happen?” he asked.

Many were worried about the incident, fearing it might be the beginning of a new policy of action by the military but hoping it wasn’t. As worrying as the events of Friday night were, many Egyptians wanted to believe the army’s actions were a mistake, and that the army was still on their side. On Saturday afternoon, the army released a statement on its Facebook page apologizing for the incident and saying some people were trying to undermine to goals of the revolution.

Some Egyptians were willing enough to accept the statement, but others remained wary.

The army must be extremely careful in both its actions and its image during this critical time in Egypt, because the people’s faith in the army is just as vital as sincerity on the part of the army if the transition to democracy is to be achieved. If the people’s trust in the army is severely shaken, their trust in the process facilitated by the army will be as well.

Already another video has begun circulating on Facebook and YouTube, showing a group of men detained by the army in Port Said. One man, blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back, is prodded by a soldier with a stick-like taser. Should similar evidence continue to surface, the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces is going to have a major problem on its hands.

Egyptians seem willing to forgive the army once, but they may not do so twice.

** This post was originally published as an op-ed in Bikya Masr

"I am Egyptian"

Piles of t-shirts spill out of suitcases on the ground. Young men with fistfuls of flags weave through the crowds, looking for buyers. Small groups gather to have the Egyptian flag painted on their cheeks free of charge. Young children are everywhere – in their mother’s arms, on their father’s shoulders, happily waving the Egyptian flag.

A week after the historic announcement that Hosni Mubarak was stepping down as president of Egypt, Egyptians are still celebrating.

Now, members of the military smile and pose for pictures where before they would sternly shake their heads. If families were common in Tahrir before Mubarak’s resignation, now they are everywhere. Even foreigners who have made Cairo their home have started to gather in Tahrir with their families and young children.

Increasingly the feeling in Tahrir Square is like that of a festival. Gone is the underlying tension, the worry that more government thugs will attack the peaceful atmosphere in Cairo’s Liberation Square.

On the other hand, some Egyptians stood in the square looking a bit bewildered. “We’re here… what do we do now?” one commented twenty-something girl to her friend.

Others have echoed the thought: Mubarak has left… why are they still gathering? Some come to honor the memories of the martyrs, whose pictures hang from various points along the square. Others come to visit with friends, for an afternoon out, or simply to bask in the strange freedom of gathering freely in public with thousands of others.

Egyptians are well aware that their struggle is not over. Much work remains to be done if Egypt is to become a democratic state. Even so, they seem intent on enjoying this first victory before moving on to the next battle.

Egypt’s Revolution: A victory embodied by the Egyptian spirit

No one expected that peaceful protests and perseverance could topple the third-longest ruler in Egyptian history – but they did, and in less than three weeks.

What’s more, Egyptians won their victory as a people, not as a mass following a leader. Throughout history there have been various peaceful revolutions, but each had a figurehead: Nelson Mandela in South Africa, Gahndi in India, Martin Luther King in the Civil Rights movement in the United States. Each a worthy cause with a worthy leader.

Many images from the last nineteen days will be recorded in history: Egyptians chanting ‘peaceful, peaceful’ before being attacked by State Security; armored trucks turning water cannons on demonstrators as they prayed; Christian Egyptians surrounding their Muslim brothers, protecting them as they prayed; millions of people gathered in Tahrir – Liberation – Square.

These are the images of a people long known as friendly and hospitable, who have shown the world how deeply the Egyptian spirit runs.

In the early days of the revolution, for every young man who wanted to throw a stone at State Security forces there were five others to stop him. They would not instigate violence, but at a point demonstrators did retaliate: 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.

Even so, the overwhelming desire among the people was for everything to be peaceful. When State Security withdrew from Cairo on January 28, the people did not chase them out. On the contrary, I witnessed some demonstrators go to them and congratulate them, sharing the victory.

In less than three weeks Egyptians shattered the wall of fear which had kept them silent for decades. The wall had been cracked already, and the foundation was a bit unstable, but until January 25 that wall still stood. On the evening of January 25 I stood in Tahrir Square as tens of thousands of Egyptians gathered there for the first time, giddy with excitement.

I spoke with a lawyer who had helped found the human rights movement in Egypt in the 1970s, and had been part of the student demonstrations in 1973 and 1977. “I was here in Tahrir in 1977 and I was arrested for that demonstration,” he told me. “And now I am here again and I see all these young people, the age of my son and my daughters.” For him, as for many others, it was an emotional moment.

Destroying that ‘culture of fear,’ as I once heard it called, is one of the single most important victories of Egypt’s revolution. Whatever happens next, Egyptians now know that they can go to the streets and demand their rights.

So, what happens next? This is the question both Egyptians and the world have been asking for nineteen days. Hosni Mubarak, against all odds, is gone. What now?

Many have expressed the fear of a power vacuum. The military is in control, but that makes some uneasy. Others fear the Muslim Brotherhood will take over and impose some version of Islamic rule. Some of the fears are valid, some misplaced, but all seem to have overlooked the most important thing Egyptians have taught themselves and the world over the past nineteen days: Egyptians can take care of themselvevs.

Egyptians can take care of themselves. When the police pulled out of the city, Egyptians took it upon themselves to safeguard their homes and their history. They locked arms in front of the Egyptian Museum to protect it, and when thugs broke in from the roof the people quickly arrested them and turned them over to the army.

Within hours of the disappearance of security guards and traffic police, citizens organized road blocks, checkpoints, and neighborhood watch groups – and all without access to the internet or mobile phones.

Committees were organized to clean the streets and pick up garbage. People took it upon themselves to set up makeshift clinics in Tahrir Square and to bring food, water, and blankets to distribute to the people demonstrating there 24 hours a day.

Egypt did not fall into chaos, and did not fall for the rumors the government was trying to spread. In places where there was violence and looting, the people knew it was government-hired thugs and prisoners who mysteriously escaped from prisons who were causing trouble: it was not the people themselves.

The regime tried to force the people to choose between security and liberty and the people, in true Egyptian fashion, made their own option. They chose both. And it will not be quick or easy, but with more of the perseverance and compassion Egyptians have embodied in the last three weeks, they will keep both.

Statement from Tahrir Square to the Egyptian people

A Statement from the protesters at Cairo's Tahrir square

to the Egyptian people

The President's promises and the bloody events of Wednesday February 2

We the protesters who are currently on sit-in at Tahrir (liberation) square in Cairo since January 25, 2011 strongly condemn the brutal attack carried out by the governing National Democratic Party's (NDP) mercenaries at our location on Wednesday February 2, under the guise of "rally" in support of President Mubarak. This attack continues on Thursday February 3. We regret that some young people have joined these thugs and criminals, whom the NDP is accustomed to hire during elections, to march them off after spreading several falsehoods circulated by the regime media about us and our goals. These goals that aim at changing the political system to a one that guarantees freedom, dignity and social justice to all citizens are also the goals of the youth. Therefore we want to clarify the following.

Firstly, we are a group of Muslim and Christian Egyptians; the overwhelming majority of us does not belong to political parties and have no previous political activism. Our movement involves elderly and children, peasants, workers, professionals, students and pensioners. Our movement cannot be classified as "paid for" or "directed by" a limited few because it attracted millions who responded to its emblem of removing the regime. People joined us last Tuesday in Cairo and other governorates in a scene that witnessed no one case of violence, property assault or harassment to anyone.

Secondly, our movement is accused of being funded from abroad, supported by the United States, as being instigated by Hamas, as under the leadership of the president of the National Assembly for change (Mohamed El-Baradie) and last but not least, as directed by the Muslim Brotherhood. Many accusations like these prove to be false. Protesters are all Egyptians who have clear and specific national objectives. Protesters have no weapons or foreign equipment as claimed by instigators. The broad positive response by the people to our movement's goals reveals that these are the goals of the Egyptian masses in general, not any internal or external faction or entity.

Thirdly, the regime and its paid media falsely blame us, demonstrators, for the tension and instability in the streets of Egypt in recent days and therefore for damaging our nation's interests and security. Our answer to them is: It is not the peaceful protesters who released the criminal offenders from prison to the unguarded streets to practice looting and plundering. It is not the peaceful protesters who have imposed a curfew starting at 3 o'clock PM. It is not the peaceful protesters who have stopped the work in banks, bakeries and gas stations. When protesters organized its one-million demonstration it came up in the most magnificent and organized form and ended peacefully. It is not the protestors who killed 300 people some with live ammunition, and wounding more than 2,000 people in the last few days.

Fourthly, President Mubarak came out on Tuesday to announce that he will not be nominated in the upcoming presidential election and that he will modify two articles in the Constitution, and engage in dialogue with the opposition. However the State media has attacked us when we refused his "concession" and decided to go on with our movement. Our demand that Mubark steps down immediately is not a personal matter, but we have clear reasons for it which include:

• His promise of not to run again is not new. He has promised when he came to power in 1981 that he will not run for more than two periods but he continued for more than 30 years.
• His speech did not put any collateral for not nominating his son "Gamal", who remains until the moment a member of the ruling party, and can stand for election that will not be under judicial supervision since he ignored any referring to the amendment of article 88 of the Constitution.
• He also considered our movement a "plot directed by a force" that works against the interests of the nation as if responding to the demands of the public is a "shame" or "humiliation".
• As regards to his promise of conducting a dialogue with the opposition, we know how many times over the past years the regime claimed this and ended up with enforcing the narrow interests of the Mubarak State and the few people who control it.

And the events of Wednesday proved our stand is vindicated. While the President was giving his promises, the leaders of his regime were organizing (along with paid thugs and wanted criminals equipped with swords, knives and Molotov bombs) a brutal attack plot against us in Tahrir square. Those thugs and criminals were accompanied by the NDP members who fired machine guns on unarmed protesters who were trapped on the square ground, killing at least 7 and wounding hundreds of us critically. This was done in order to end our peaceful national popular movement and preserve the status quo.

Our movement is Egyptian - Our movement is legitimate- Our movement is continuing

The youth of Tahrir Square sit-in

February 3, 2011 at 11:30am

بيان للشعب من معتصمين بالتحرير - الرجاء النشر والتوزيع

بيان للشعب

أول القصيد: وعود الرئيس وأحداث الأربعاء 2 فبراير

نحن محتجون منذ 25 يناير الماضي، ومعتصمون في ميدان التحرير، ندين بشدة الاعتداء الغاشم الذي نفذته مرتزقة الحزب الوطني علينا في مقر اعتصامنا يوم الأربعاء 2 فبراير تحت غطاء المظاهرة المؤيدة للرئيس لمبارك ويستمر العدوان يوم الخميس 3 فبراير. ونأسف لدخول البعض من شباب مصر مع البلطجية والمجرمين ممن اعتاد الوطني تأجيرهم في الانتخابات، وساقوهم علينا بعد أن أشاعوا اكاذيب عديدة يروجها النظام وإعلامه بخصوصنا وبخصوص اهدافنا المنادية بتغيير للنظام السياسي يكفل لنا ولجموع المواطنين الحرية وكرامة العيش والعدالة الاجتماعية، والتي هي ايضا من اهداف هذا الشباب، ولذلك نريد توضيح الاتي:

أولا، نحن مجموعة من شباب مصر مسلمين ومسيحيين، أغلبيتنا الكاسحة لا تنتمي لأحزاب سياسية ولا لها نشاط سياسي من قبل. حركتنا ضمت شيوخا وأطفالا، فلاحين وعمال ومهنيين، طلبة وموظفين على المعاش. حركتنا لا يمكن تصنيفها على أنها مدفوعة أو محركة من قلة بحكم الملايين الذين استجابوا لشعاراتها باسقاط النظام، وانضموا اليها يوم الثلاثاء الماضي في القاهرة والمحافظات، في حدث لم يشهد حالة عنف واحدة أو اعتداء على الممتلكات أو تحرش من أحد بأحد.

ثانيا، حركتنا متهمة بأنها ممولة من الخارج، وتمدها الولايات المتحدة، وأنها قامت بتحريض من حماس، وبأنها تحت قيادة وبتنظيم رئيس الجمعية الوطنية للتغيير محمد البرادعي، وأخيرا وليس آخرا، بأنها موجهة من قبل الاخوان المسلمين. وتعدد الاتهامات بهذا الشكل في حد ذاته يثبت زيفها. المحتجون كلهم مصريون أهدافهم أهدافا وطنية واضحة ومحددة. المحتجون ليس لديهم لا سلاح ولا معدات أجنبية كما يدعي المحرضين. واستجابة الناس الواسعة لها تكشف أنها هي ذاتها أهداف جموع المصريين عموما، وليس أي فصيل أو كيان داخلي وخارجي.

ثالثا، يلقي النظام وإعلامه المأجور زورا وبهتانا بالمسئولية عن التوتر وعدم الاستقرار الذي شهدته شوارع مصر في الأيام الماضية، وبالتالي عما يسببه ذلك من أضرار لمصالحنا ومصالح أمتنا ولأمننا جميعا، على الشباب المتظاهر. فليس المتظاهرون سلميا هم الذين أخرجوا المجرمين من السجون ليخلقوا حالة السلب والنهب في شوارع المحروسة. ليس المتظاهرون هم الذين فرضوا حظر تجول يبدأ من الثالثة وأوقفوا العمل في البنوك والمخابز ومحطات الوقود. وحين نظم المتظاهرون مظاهرتهم المليونية خرجت في أحلى حلة وأفضل تنظيم، وانتهت سلميا. المتظاهرون ليسوا هم من قتلوا 300 شخص بعضهم بالرصاص الحي، وجرحوا أكثر من ألفي شخص في الأيام الماضية.

رابعا، خرج الرئيس مبارك علينا مساء الثلاثاء ليعلن عدم ترشحه في الانتخابات الرئاسية المقبلة وتعديله لمادتين في الدستور، وخوض حوار مع المعارضة. وقد هاجمنا الاعلام الرسمي عندما رفضنا "تنازلاته" وقررنا المضي في حركتنا. إن مطلب التنحي الفوري لمبارك ليس مسألة شخصية. لكننا نستند في ذلك على أسباب واضحة من بينها:

الوعد بعدم الترشح ليس جديدا. فقد وعد مبارك عندما جاء رئيسا في 1981 بعدم الترشح لأكثر من فترتين، ليستمر بعدها لأكثر من 30 عاما. كما أن الخطاب لم يضع أي ضمانات لعدم ترشح ابنه جمال، الذي يظل حتى هذه اللحظة عضوا في الحزب الحاكم، ويستطيع ترشيح نفسه في انتخابات لن تتم تحت اشراف قضائي، إذ تجاهل الخطاب الاشارة الى تعديل المادة 88 في الدستور. كما اعتبر الخطاب حركتنا مؤامرة من قوى تعمل ضد مصالح الوطن، وكأن الاستجابة لمطالب الجماهير عار وعيب. وأما فيما يتعلق بالحوار مع المعارضة فكم من حوارات ادعى النظام انه سيقوم بها خلال السنوات الماضية وانتهت بمضي دولة مبارك في طريق المصالح الضيقة لمن يسيطرون عليها.

وجاءت أحداث الأربعاء لتثبت صحة موقفنا. فبينما كان خطاب الرئيس يوعد، كانت قيادات نظامه ترتب مع البلطجية والمسجلين خطر من المأجورين مؤامرة الاعتداء الوحشي في التحرير بالسنج والمطاوي وقنابل المولوتوف، يصاحبهم أعضاء الحزب الوطني بإطلاق الأعيرة النارية بالبنادق الآلية على المتظاهرين العزل المحاصرين في الميدان، الذي أدى إلى مقتل سبعة على الأقل وإصابة المئات، منهم بإصابات بالغة، وذلك لإنهاء حركتنا الشعبية الوطنية والتمهيد لبقاء الحال على ماهو عليه.

حركتنا مصرية – حركتنا مشروعة - حركتنا مستمرة

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.

Update on Egypt's Revolution

Currently it is almost 5pm here in Cairo. To be utterly honest, I have no idea where to begin writing. For the past four days I have witnessed an incredible sense of community among Egyptians. In Tahrir square, people have been taking care of each other: bringing food and water to distribute, bringing instruments, gathering together. There has been no sexual harassment. There has been no violence.

Just two hours ago I was in Tahrir, and the mood was tense, but still peaceful.

In the past two hours all chaos has broken loose. Pro-government "demonstrators" charged horses and camels into the peaceful crowd. The groups are throwing stones, Molotov cocktails at each other. The beautiful sense of peace of the last four days has been utterly shattered. I have friends in Tahrir, and I am terrified of their lives.

Last night, Mubarak had caught the attention of many demonstrators. Some believed that because of his statements made to an international audience, he would actually take steps to bring more freedom to Egypt. Many believed he would actually step down peacefully when presidential elections are held later this year, and were asking their friends to stop demonstrating so things could go back to normal.

And then this happened. Mubarak has proven himself for what he is.

I will try to update you all more later. For now, check my updates on Bikya Masr at: http://bikyamasr.com/?author=201.

And please, please, pray for Egypt.

Egyptians hopeful for the future

A sense of hope prevails in the streets of Cairo. Hope mixed with fear of how hard the government could crack down and uncertainty over what will happen next, but above all Egyptians have hope that maybe, just maybe, change is coming to Egypt.

For two days Egyptians have taken to the streets by the thousands, astounding both themselves and the world. Many thought the tens of thousands gathered in Tahrir Square on Tuesday night impossible in Egypt. Many thought Egyptians were too apathetic or too terrified of State Security.

On Tuesday, January 25, smaller gatherings converged on Tahrir Square through the afternoon and into the evening. Successive groups numbering from tens to thousands crossed the Qasr el-Nil brigde into one of Cairo’s most vital arteries. “Down, down with Hosni Mubarak!” they chanted.

They wore broad, sometimes giddy smiles.

Groups talked and laughed. Chants against a repressive regime sprouted again and again. Older men, some of whom participated in Egypt’s last great protests in 1977, discussed politics and smoked an endless chain of cigarettes.

Not all was peaceful: security forces hosed protesters with water and shot tear gas into the crowds. After midnight, Tahrir was ruthlessly cleared of any remnant of the day’s events.

Watching demonstrators press on through clouds of tear gas, watching families with young children brave the streets, hearing the raw emotion as Egyptians chant for freedom – one has the feeling of standing on the edge of something truly momentous.

But nothing is certain.

Wednesday, January 26 saw many small, disorganized demonstrations. The lack of communication meant no one knew where to go and most groups were quickly dispersed. It was also clear that no one expected the January 25 protests to be a success, because no one was ready for continued demonstrations on the 26th.

Even so, Egyptians have come to the streets in a way they have never done under Hosni Mubarak. The fear has been broken, and Egyptians are unlikely to give up and go home.

To quote one twenty-something Egyptian, “Tuesday was the happiest day of my life.”

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.

My run-in with Egyptian state security

Today I witnessed a fraction of what Egyptian activists face.

Today is the second anniversary of the April 6, 2008 protests, which were the first simultaneous nation-wide protests in Egypt. The 6 April Youth, who became known after the protests, planned another strike for today. It was supposed to be a peaceful protest march from Tahrir Square to the Egyptian Parliament a few blocks away.

The Government was ready and in no mood to deal with protesters.

Another American journalist and I met at Ayman Nour's apartment in Zamalek at 10am. As we prepared to head downtown, one of Nour's people gave us a few suggestions: don't wear gold jewelry, and memorize someone's number in case you are arrested and they confiscate your phone. I rolled up my sleeve and wrote a few numbers - without names - on my arm. My friend did the same. My roommate and her roommate - non-political friends - and my editor.

Police standing outside the Journalists Syndicate in downtown Cairo

As our taxi neared Talat Harb street, the government's preparations were obvious. Uniformed police lined the streets. Large green military trucks were parked end to end on side streets, as many as eight in one place, each full of soldiers. The atmosphere was already tense.

Our initial destination point was the al-Ghad party headquarters on Talat Harb street. Before going to the headquarters, however, my companions and I decided to take a look at what was happening in Tahrir.

At around 11am we were walking from Talat Harb through Tahrir Square in downtown Cairo (where the Egyptian Museum and the American University are located). My friend and I stayed a dozen meters in front of our al-Ghad friends, figuring we would have more freedom to snap pictures as 'tourists' if we weren't associated with them.

As it turns out, that wasn't really the case.

I snapped a few pictures of the police lining Tahrir as we entered the square and then turned my camera off. My friend panned her camera around the square and toward the police. Suddenly, three angry men were coming straight toward us. It was immediately clear that these were plain-clothes security, and they were not happy.

Riot police in Tahrir Square

"Give me your camera," said the man in charge. "Give it to me. Let me see." He roughly grabbed my friend's camera, trying to pull it away from her.

"You can't do that!" She said, pulling away from him.

In the few seconds the exchange took, we were surrounded by plain-clothes security. One grabbed my arm, attempting to pull me away from my friend, while the first attempted to pull her camera away again. She held onto her camera and I held on to her, and we tried to walk away. Security blocked our path. "I'm an American citizen! You can't do this to me!" my friend shouted. The security pressed in closer. "Somebody help me! I'm an American citizen!" We were drawing looks from passerby. One of the security men waved his arm and we were completely encircled.

After a few intense minutes of arguing, we were ushered against the wall of the building behind us (Hardees). We were less conspicuous there, but we were still making a scene and the police were not pleased.

They also didn't believe a word that came out of my friend's mouth. They weren't terribly interested in me, possibly because they hadn't seen me taking pictures, but they interrogated my friend endlessly. Where are you from? What is your job? Why are you here? They didn't believe her story - that she was a student and happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time (later, when we saw the same security men in a coffee shop around the corner, the head man said flatly to my friend: "You are a liar").

Finally a female security officer in uniform came over (this is the first time female officers have been deployed during a protest, and later in the day they proved just as brutal as the men). She went through our bags piece by piece. The first man had already taken a copy of my friend's passport (which we never saw again), but I had no identification on me. Looking back, I'm glad - they don't know who I am.

The whole time, my friend had been on the phone with our al-Ghad friends and others, letting them know that while we were being detained, we would be okay. Whatever happened, we did not want our al-Ghad friends to show up: if they did, our story about being in the wrong place at the wrong time would be shot. As it was, the officers were demanding to know who we were on the phone with. "Who is Badawy?" they demanded.

After another ten minutes or so, another plain-clothes officer arrived. He was better dressed and clearly had more authority than the officers who had been dealing with us so far. He was smiling as he ambled over.

"What is the problem?" he asked.

"I've been all over the world, and I've never had problems with the police!" fumed my friend.

"You still don't have trouble with the police," said the man, still smiling amiably. At this point I was shaking, half from nerves and half on purpose. He looked directly at me. "Why are you frightened?" he asked.

Eventually he 'explained' to us that there were demonstrations, and it was a security matter that we weren't allowed to take pictures. After a few more minutes of this back-and-forth, someone said, "okay okay, come this way." We were ushered around the corner onto another street, and when we looked behind us we realized we were no longer being accompanied by security. We were free to go, it seemed.

Needless to say, my friend and I were a bit shaken up. Our encounter with the police had been pretty intense.

What we faced was only a small taste of what Egyptian activists face: as Americans, the regime is less likely to physically harass us.

Even so, we knew going back to the protest was going to be a bad idea. We finally made the decision not to go back into Tahrir. We considered moving to the al-Ghad headquarters, but my friend had a bad feeling about it, and luckily we went with her gut: around the time we would have arrived, there was a confrontation with state security outside the headquarters when Ayman Nour and his supporters attempted to leave the building. They were eventually forced back inside and the door was barricaded for over three hours, with no one allowed out. Ayman Nour's eldest son was briefly detained by security, and the scratches and bruises on his neck are a testament to the way he was manhandled by the plain-clothes officers.

Noor Ayman Nour, eldest son of Ayman Nour, arrested near Talat Harb.
Photo by Al-Jazeera.

It's too soon to really say if the day was successful or not, but... here are some thoughts and facts:

• Over 80 persons were arrested and moved to the police station in Nasr City.
• There were violent confrontations between police and protesters in Tahrir and also outside the parliament; there were even female police beating female protesters, and two women sustained broken arms.
• More than 70 people were locked inside al-Ghad headquarters;
• Violent clashes occurred in Alexandria;
• Mobile phones and gold jewelry were confiscated by security around the parliament;
• ElBaradei was completely absent from the scene, and there is a possibility that this will hurt his reputation here. Already there has been much criticism on both Facebook and Twitter.

I'll get back to you on some of this soon... there's so much I want to say, I don't really know where to begin.