The Price of Freedom

For my generation, this type of activism was hardly even mentioned. Instead, there was a defeatist attitude that seemed to have aged us long before our time. Even as the demonstrations of January 25 were being planned all over Facebook, it was hard to predict that the youth who were often preoccupied with trivialities had the kind of perseverance needed to bring about political change. It was hard to believe that Egyptians had the kind of stamina and, dare I say it, the courage needed to end a 30-year-old system backed by a entire mechanism dedicated to maintaining the status quo at any cost.

But that first Tuesday gave me a boost of confidence. The systematic organization of the protestors, the simultaneous demonstrations that broke out throughout the country — as opposed to just the grand republic of Cairo — and the willingness of these youth to remain on the streets even after violent confrontations broke out were more than I could have ever predicted. By the Friday of Anger, the situation had already changed. With several deaths in many cities, tactics designed to plant fear in the hearts of the demonstrators only added to their resolve, turning January 28 into one of those moments in a country’s history — the moments that I read about in history books but had never been privileged enough to see for myself. Tear gas, rubber bullets and, in some cases, live ammunition were used to disperse the demonstrators, but they simply refused to go.

The estimated four hours needed for demonstrators to cross the historic lion-flanked Kasr El-Nil Bridge — as thousands upon thousands of unarmed civilians faced off with the notorious riot police in their attempt to cross over to Tahrir Square, the meeting point for all demonstrations that had taken place throughout Cairo — is a testament to the perseverance of Egyptians. “The Battle for Kasr El-Nil” will forever be carved in my mind. From that point on, the gloves came off throughout the country and the demonstrations went from violent to deadly. It’s estimated that on that day of demonstrations alone, more than 250 martyrs fell.

From that point on, the situation changed. Now there was the blood of innocent people involved. Egyptians are known and have often been criticized for the continued tradition of vendetta, but this was one time a vendetta was justified. The dead were young, most of them younger than me, almost all of them unarmed. Instead of instilling fear in Egyptians, these deaths only instilled more resolve and perseverance.

The desire for revenge is a strange thing; it can turn even the most agreeable of people into hardened activists. Tahrir Square was occupied by the protesters as the police withdrew and the army deployed. Uncertain who was a friend and who was a foe, thousands congregated in the square every day for 14 long and occasionally bloody days and nights.

During that time, there were stories, captured through photographs and videos, of heroism and valor that went beyond what I could have ever dreamed of. There was a strength and unity that I had always believed were part of the moral fiber of all Egyptians but never thought I’d live to see. There was brutality that, although I had read about, I couldn’t imagine one Egyptian would inflict on another. There was also the humor and creativity Egyptians have always been famous for.

On February 11 — after 18 long days and nights, 367 dead and an estimated 5,500 wounded — the Egyptians’ revolution succeeded, and the hope of a new and free Egypt was born. It was brought about not with guns or violence but through tolerance, inclusion and perseverance. It was brought about by faith and solidarity. I have waited my entire career to write this article. Now we will go down in the history books as one of those great revolutions that people will read about and hope they have the ability to one day replicate in their countries. There is a price to pay for freedom, and for Egypt, the prize was well worth it.