Laura Dean's Cairo Diary
The Cairo Diary: Anniversary of a Massacre and A General's Birthday
Tahrir Square, November 19, 2013.
As you enter Mohamed Mahmoud Street from Tahrir Square, a sign reads, “The borders of Egypt. Entry is prohibited for Muslim Brotherhood, Army and remnants of the Mubarak regime.”
Nada Ahmed, an independent activist, tells me, “Mohamed Mahmoud Street is especially our place. The Muslim Brotherhood went down to Tahrir Square, the army went down to Tahrir, only the real revolutionaries came here.” Among the groups here today are the Revolutionary Socialists, The Revolutionary Ultras and a newly formed-group called “Third Square,” who oppose both the Muslim Brotherhood and military rule.
Situated at the entrance to the American University in Cairo's old campus, Mohamed Mahmoud street used to packed with students, darting back and forth across the street to print their packets to read before class, and couples in fancy cars breaking up and getting back together. All of that now feels as though it belongs to another world.
On November 18, 2011, the military brutally cleared a small group of demonstrators who had been injured during the January uprisings, and their relatives and supporters. Other protesters soon came to their aid and took to the streets to protest against military rule. What followed on November 20 was, at the time, the bloodiest single incident since the January 25 uprisings. At least 45 protesters were killed, many lost their eyes as security forces fired shot guns directly into the crowd, and footage emerged of several of them throwing protesters' bodies on trash piles near Tahrir Square. The significance of Mohamed Mahmoud street was forever changed on that day.
It is also the street that "connects Tahrir Square, the symbol of the revolution, and the Interior Ministry building, the symbol of the security state," as Mohamed Adam, an excellent journalist and friend, puts it. Since January 2011 the Mohamed Mahmoud corridor has sported an array of changing graffiti from pro-revolution, to anti-homophobia, to memorials to those killed in various protests. Today, all of that is painted over and a pink, orange and red camouflage pattern covers the walls.
It used to look like this:
And this:
Now it looks like this:
An odd crowd has come down to Tahrir today: the security forces called for people to come to the square to celebrate the birthday of General Abdel Fattah el Sisi. One member of this group tells me that the young revolutionaries are "dogs." Others are here to watch the Egypt-Ghana soccer game on large screens set up in the square. And finally, there are those who came to pay tribute to the peaceful protesters who were killed on this day two years ago.
Last night, the Ultras vandalized and partially destroyed an army-built monument to "the martyrs" in Tahrir, many of them killed by the security forces. Here is an excellent video by the Mosireen Collective showing the site's commemoration, then, 16 hours later, its destruction. I won't translate the slogans as some of them are not fit for printing here. Arabic speakers, consider this fair warning. But broadly, the demonstrators are calling for the downfall of state security.
Here is another good one highlighting the hypocrisy of the monument. It opens with footage from June 30, in which protesters chant, "the police, the people and the army are one hand," followed by a montage of instances of army and police violence against protesters with a voiceover of a member of the armed forces calling for the commemoration of those who died. For the first time since the summer, there is a significant presence of protesters in the streets supporting neither the army, nor the Brotherhood. In August, the "Masmou'" campaign, meaning "heard" in Arabic, represented that third way but there has not been much of a street presence until now. The song in this video is beautiful and worth listening to: A new symbol has emerged: the three-fingered hand calling for bread, freedom and the purging of the Ministry of the Interior. People raise three fingers in defiance of the four-fingered Rabaa salute that has come to represent those who supported the Brotherhood sit-ins at Rabaa el Adaweya and el Nahdha Square that were violently dispersed on August 14.