Robert Fisk

Arab Spring Then and Now


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month in 1989 when he was consultant to the company building the new Arab League headquarters, but never met Ben Ali. "I wasn't involved in politics," he says.

      But he clearly thinks a lot about it. When we talked of the Tunisian revolution, Azoury spoke of the street vendor Mohamed Bouazizi - whose death by self-immolation started the revolt against Ben Ali - in words that I am still pondering. "The body of Bouazizi will either be a light in this part of the world," Azoury says. "Or he will be the fire that will consume it."

      Robert Fisk

      Cairo’s Tahrir Square, 22 November 2011.

      Friday, 28 January 2011

      A day of prayer or a day of rage? All Egypt was waiting for the Muslim Sabbath today - not to mention Egypt's fearful allies - as the country's ageing President clings to power after nights of violence that have shaken America's faith in the stability of the Mubarak regime.

      Five men have so far been killed and almost 1,000 others have been imprisoned, police have beaten women and for the first time an office of the ruling National Democratic Party was set on fire. Rumours are as dangerous as tear gas here. A Cairo daily has been claiming that one of President Hosni Mubarak's top advisers has fled to London with 97 suitcases of cash, but other reports speak of an enraged President shouting at senior police officers for not dealing more harshly with demonstrators.

      Mohamed ElBaradei, the Nobel prize-winning former UN official, flew back to Egypt last night but no one believes - except perhaps the Americans - that he can become a focus for the protest movements that have sprung up across the country.

      Already there have been signs that those tired of Mubarak's corrupt and undemocratic rule have been trying to persuade the ill-paid policemen patrolling Cairo to join them. "Brothers! Brothers! How much do they pay you?" one of the crowds began shouting at the cops in Cairo. But no one is negotiating - there is nothing to negotiate except the departure of Mubarak, and the Egyptian government says and does nothing, which is pretty much what it has been doing for the past three decades.

      People talk of revolution but there is no one to replace Mubarak's men - he never appointed a vice-president - and one Egyptian journalist yesterday told me he had even found some friends who feel sorry for the isolated, lonely President. Mubarak is 82 and even hinted he would stand for president again - to the outrage of millions of Egyptians.

      The barren, horrible truth, however, is that save for its brutal police force and its ominously docile army - which, by the way, does not look favourably upon Mubarak's son Gamal - the government is powerless. This is revolution by Twitter and revolution by Facebook, and technology long ago took away the dismal rules of censorship.

      Mubarak's men seem to have lost all sense of initiative. Their party newspapers are filled with self-delusion, pushing the massive demonstrations to the foot of front pages as if this will keep the crowds from the streets - as if, indeed, that by belittling the story, the demonstrations never happened.

      But you don't need to read the papers to see what has gone wrong. The filth and the slums, the open sewers and the corruption of every government official, the bulging prisons, the laughable elections, the whole vast, sclerotic edifice of power has at last brought Egyptians on to their streets.

      Amr Moussa, the head of the Arab League, spotted something important at the recent summit of Arab leaders at the Egyptian resort of Sharm el-Sheikh. "Tunisia is not far from us," he said. "The Arab men are broken." But are they? One old friend told me a frightening story about a poor Egyptian who said he had no interest in moving the corrupt leadership from their desert gated communities. "At least we now know where they live," he said. There are more than 80 million people in Egypt, 30 per cent of them under 20. And they are no longer afraid.

      And a kind of Egyptian nationalism - rather than Islamism - is making itself felt at the demonstrations. January 25 is National Police Day - to honour the police force who died fighting British troops in Ishmaelia - and the government clucked its tongue at the crowds, telling them they were disgracing their martyrs. No, shouted the crowds, those policemen who died at Ishmaelia were brave men, not represented by their descendants in uniform today.

      This is not an un-clever government, though. There is a kind of shrewdness in the gradual freeing of the press and television of this ramshackle pseudodemocracy. Egyptians had been given just enough air to breathe, to keep them quiet, to enjoy their docility in this vast farming land. Farmers are not revolutionaries, but when the millions thronged to the great cities, to the slums and collapsing houses and universities, which gave them degrees and no jobs, something must have happened.

      "We are proud of the Tunisians - they have shown Egyptians how to have pride," another Egyptian colleague said yesterday. "They were inspiring but the regime here was smarter than Ben Ali in Tunisia. It provided a veneer of opposition by not arresting all the Muslim Brotherhood, then by telling the Americans that the great fear should be Islamism, that Mubarak was all that stood between them and 'terror' - a message the US has been in a mood to hear for the past 10 years."

      There are various clues that the authorities in Cairo realised something was afoot. Several Egyptians have told me that on 24 January, security men were taking down pictures of Gamal Mubarak from the slums - lest they provoke the crowds. But the vast number of arrests, the police street beatings - of women as well as men - and the near-collapse of the Egyptian stock market bear the marks of panic rather than cunning.

      And one of the problems has been created by the regime itself; it has systematically got rid of anyone with charisma, thrown them out of the country, politically emasculating any real opposition by imprisoning many of them. The Americans and the EU are telling the regime to listen to the people - but who are these people, who are their leaders? This is not an Islamic uprising - though it could become one - but, save for the usual talk of Muslim Brotherhood participation in the demonstrations, it is just one mass of Egyptians stifled by decades of failure and humiliation.

      But all the Americans seem able to offer Mubarak is a suggestion of reforms - something Egyptians have heard many times before. It's not the first time that violence has come to Egypt's streets, of course. In 1977, there were mass food riots - I was in Cairo at the time and there were many angry, starving people - but the Sadat government managed to control the people by lowering food prices and by imprisonment and torture. There have been police mutinies before - one ruthlessly suppressed by Mubarak himself. But this is something new.

      Interestingly, there seems no animosity towards foreigners. Many journalists have been protected by the crowds and - despite America's lamentable support for the Middle East's dictators - there has not so far been a single US flag burned. That shows you what's new. Perhaps a people have grown up - only to discover that their ageing government are all children.

      Who Could Succeed Hosni Mubarak?

      Gamal Mubarak ─ Protesters on the streets of Egypt aren't just rallying against the 30-year-reign of President Hosni Mubarak, they are also taking aim at his son Gamal Mubarak, 47, an urbane former investment banker who has scaled the political ladder, prompting speculation that he is being groomed for his father's post.

      The youngest son of Mr Mubarak and his half-Welsh wife, Suzanne, Gamal was educated at the elite American University in Cairo, going on to work for the Bank of America.

      He entered politics about a decade ago, quickly moving up to become head of the political secretariat of his father's National Democratic Party (NDP). He was heavily involved in the economic liberalisation of Egypt, which pleased investors but provoked the ire of protesters, who blame the policies for lining the pockets of the rich while the poor suffered.

      Although he has always denied having an eye on his father's throne, a mysterious campaign sprung up last year, with posters plastered across Cairo calling for Gamal to stand for president in elections scheduled for later this year. His 82-year-old father