Egypt and the absurdity of imposed democracy
All rights owned and protected by the author in part or in full
Yesterday I woke up with a heavy
laden heart. I snapped back to 60 ears of passions and roots; I plunged into a
stream in profound sentiments- mostly of hazy thoughts, forbidden love and intense nostalgia. I was
gasping for air, sweating unlike other moments of typical yearning for the
childhood memories. But then, I asked myself what was it that made me so proud
to be an Egyptian and why do I lament the unattainable past… “Why [I though]
can I not accept the fact that we grow old and nations develop but what we have
will never go away; it is inherent within us?”
On the radio, I listened to Schubert’s
trio for piano, cello and violin and, while (alas) sobbing, I remembered
walking in the streets of Cairo in January and February 2012 and, just as well,
the year before, at the same time. I would walk for hours in Ataba, El-Waily,
El-Ghoureya, Abbasseya, Heliopolis, Zamalek, Guiza and Old Cairo, searching for
something I could no longer find. In 2011, for example, I searched for Egyptians…
But they were gone! Heritage sites were demolished. And, those I met had sets
of eyes that were far from fixed. They would not notice me as I conversed with
them. They were elsewhere and I felt lonely. True a few church bells rang at
times and calls for prayer sang, at others, compelling many to their worship houses
at the scheduled times; but I still felt lonely. Some did not, even, notice the
calls for prayer, others almost ran me over with their stupid Toctocs vehicles
or their miserable none-plated motor-bikes- mostly juveniles! “Was I aging
quickly? Had I become intolerant?” I wondered and asked myself? Was I suddenly
realizing that at sixty, things had to be dark? Would I have to carry this
burden for good?
 |
| Sinai Desert 2008 |
In 2012, I listened to an Egyptian
appointed executive political head in his first speech to the Egyptians after
the revolution of January 2011… His very first words were “My tribe and brethren….”
And I felt lonely again. Last week I heard another cleric instructing the
Christians of Egypt to behave or bare the consequence of the alleged truth that
they were only four million but that Egypt had eighty million Muslims that
could sweep them (if the Christians did not behave). And I felt lonely… And I
wondered why? What right did he give himself to assume that eighty million
Muslims would agree to sweep harmless Christians any more than his right to
overlook the commitment of the actual sixteen million or so, Egyptian Christians
to defend the eighty million Muslims, trusting that the latter (the Muslims) would,
undeniably, protect the first (the Christians), equally. And I felt lonely… I
continued to hear Schubert’s trio, trying to make sense!
 |
| Sinai Desert 2008 |
And then, this week I heard famous
worldwide TV networks praise a new Egypt under Morsi, an Egypt of unity and
social cohesion, and I felt lonely, mocked and betrayed. After this, I
plunged further back to the late nineties, when I would return from Canada to
my childhood neighbourhood in Heliopolis, Cairo, and visit my childhood stores;
the butcher, the grocer, the baker and the plumber. I will never forget how
they treated me, upon my return after immigration. One of them, for example,
called Am-Ahmed (Uncle Ahmed) shouted when he saw me return after ten years of
absence: “Ibn Al-Ghaly?” which meant son of the precious (referring to
my elderly dad, George). And he hugged me tenderly, bringing my proud eyes to
the brink of disaster. And there were numerous cheers by so many other store-
workers. I even found various Jasmine trees, still spread around, as before, in Heliopolis,
(my childhood neighbourhood)… and I felt so overwhelmed and included, then, in 1998.
Suddenly, I was capable of answering
my first question, as to why I am so proud to be Egyptian. But what happened
this year? Where have we gone? Struggling, relentlessly, to find an answer to
my second question, as to why I had such a heavy-laden heart, I was, finally,
able to see light… and solve the Riddle, if you will. And here it is: Amidst all compelling
religious rituals, political analysis, threats, stupid delivery (none-plated) motorcycles, driving ruthlessly over harmless
citizens; amidst those extinguished eyes as cold as the piercing February desert
winter… there were no more Am-Ahmed…s; not even Jasmine trees; simply pretence, chills and sadness… And I realized that the reason for my solitude amidst eighteen
million Egyptians in Cairo (not to mention other cities), politics, religion, delivery juvenile motorcycles had
become the rule but that tenderness, identity and humanity, were simply, proportional!
Alas. When will they come back… my heart can not take it anymore! But the youth of Egypt has stood and promised to reclaim Egypt, its land, its soul and its identity... I see light in the air; I may still laugh again; perhaps...
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