The Return to Tahrir

On the eve of July 8, the night before planned protests, slowly but surely the square, where a revolution was first born on January 25, became spotted with tents — including one harboring a makeshift field hospital — and swarming with both activists and citizens. Protesters’ demands ranged from publicly trying former President Hosni Mubarak and his entourage to calling for the resignation of Field Marshall Mohamed Tantawy, and an end to the Supreme Council of Armed Forces’ (SCAF) de-facto rule.

On Facebook, the new wave of protesting was dubbed “the second revolution of anger,” and its organizers were the self-proclaimed defenders of a popular uprising that seemed to be getting dangerously out of control as coalition rifts, power-seekers and the specter of Islamists emerged.

But it wasn’t only the desire to protect rights, newfound freedoms and the ideals of the revolution that spurred the return to the square. The second wave of the uprising was partly provoked by renewed confrontations with police and other members of the Interior Ministry. Their return to the streets was coupled with what was seen as fresh violations of human rights. Protests were curbed again, and rowdy protesters have claimed that they have been needlessly attacked in several protests following February 11, when Mubarak was finally forced to step down.

The flash point came on June 27, when a group of people claiming to be relatives and friends of January 25 martyrs first clashed with the police at the Balloon Theater in Agouza, then moved Downtown where the confrontations continued into the afternoon of June 28. Protesters threw stones and police fired tear gas and rubber bullets. Some videos of the clashes reportedly showed police officers taunting protesters and shooting from close range.

For many, it was an ugly reminder of the bloody confrontations between the authorities and pro-democracy protesters under the previous regime.  Shortly after the event, a fact-finding commission blamed the violence on “thugs” and supporters of the old regime after claiming to have probed the incident. Some people felt that the revolution never happened.

Alaa Seif, a high-profile activist, self-described revolutionary and regular commentator on current affairs on local talk shows, was there and describes the face-off with police as both intense and empowering. “The clashes lasted until the army intervened. But basically on that day [the police] were defeated.”

Seif says these clashes directly inspired many to make another mass effort to “save” the revolution with an encore of January 25. On July 8, people carried signs and chanted “El-dakhliya baltagiya” (Interior Ministry [officers] are thugs), which became one of the slogans of the “new revolution,” one where political parties seemed to be united again. Surprisingly, even the Muslim Brotherhood, which has boycotted the weekly Friday protests since the ouster of Mubarak, participated — albeit without joining the sit-in or hosting a tent there as other political groups have done.

Demands raised during the July 8 protests included ending military trials for civilians, bringing the alleged murderers of more than 900 January 25 protesters to justice, raising the minimum wage for government and blue-collar workers and “cleansing the Egyptian media” by firing editors and TV show hosts who had defended Mubarak or the past regime.

Starting on July 8, Tahrir was closed off with protesters redirecting traffic. Sit-ins began in other governorates: Alexandria, Port Said, Ismaili, Suez, Aswan and Luxor. Some protesters took it even further and started a hunger strike that hospitalized several participants.

On July 10, the third day of sit-ins, demonstrators blocked the entrance of Tahrir’s Mugammaa, the governmental administrative complex, and barred hundreds of employees from entering. The move was not sanctioned by all the protesters, and many publicly distanced themselves from the incident. It was one of the early signs that the square was heavily divided.

In Alexandria, protesters surrounded the bourse building and prevented employees from going to work for several hours. In Suez, some citizens blocked the Cairo-Suez road for several hours and threatened to stop traffic at the Suez Canal.

As a pressure tool, Tahrir et al seemed to be working — yet again.

In the weeks following, the government responded with a combination of general statements and concrete changes. The Interior Ministry terminated the service of more than 670 officers, including senior officers, and demoted and reassigned others. The “cleansing process” was a gesture of goodwill, officials said. Seif says that it was also an attempt to create a rift within the protesters’ ranks.

Sharaf gave two televised statements, promising more changes, and General Mohsen El Fangary, member of SCAF and Assistant Defense Minister, gave a statement on television, aggressively speaking against protests that paralyze the country — waving a warning finger and raising his voice as he spoke. El Fangary’s speech and its aggressive tone was poorly received by protesters. “If anything, that particular speech mobilized us more,” Seif says.

After a week of name changes, 14 new ministers were sworn in during a Cabinet reshuffle, but key ministers — mainly those of Interior and Justice — were not changed, and the protesters remained disgruntled. Some protesters were raising the stakes — if their demands are not met, they say, they’re not only staying but also threatening civil disobedience, and the closing of roads and key buildings.

The so-called ‘silent majority’ — those outside of Tahrir — began to speak up. Counter-protests emerged. The people in Tahrir lost the sympathy of many citizens.

The protesters themselves are different, says Tamer Mowafi, an economic expert, prominent blogger and familiar (and respected) face among the January 25 crowd. “Most of those who are protesting now are either those involved in politics, hard line activists or relatives of martyrs. The old January 25 crowd was more representative of Egyptians coming from all walks of life and united over a common demand. The July 8 protesters are very politicized or have a bone to pick with authorities.”

“In addition, the demand during January 25 was very clear and simple: remove Mubarak. People could come together around it, and they did,” he continues. “Before July 8, things were turbulent, and very confusing. The organizers could not frame one demand to unite people around.”

Indeed, some of the ‘July 8 youth’ are calling for the resignation of Sharaf — a controversial point since the prime minister is still seen by many as a respected figure and a loyalist to the revolution. Even when it comes to simpler demands such as the minimum wage, some protesters fight among each other about the repercussions on the economy long-term.

Despite the divisions, Seif and Mowafi see July 8 as a success, and both expect more concessions from the transitional government. But it hasn’t all been rosy.

The government has not delivered on some demands. Instead of a “free press” as the protesters demanded, the government reinstated the Information Ministry in a surprising move. Dissolved after the revolution, the Information Ministry was criticized for monitoring the press and silencing critics of the Mubarak regime. Top TV personality Yosri Fouda called the move a “setback” in his weekly column in the independent daily Al-Masry Al-Youm.

In several governorates, protesters have reported violence against their sit-ins and accuse the police of either participating or turning a blind eye to the attacks.

In Port Said, several thugs armed with batons and swords reportedly started infiltrating the ranks of the protesters. Mahmoud Kandil, an activist in Port Said, claims that they were “abandoned” by the authorities there. “We called the police station and they said ‘Protect yourself’,” Kandil says, adding “They want to intimidate us to call off the sit-in, but we’re pressing on.”

In a phone interview, Mohammed El Temsah, a Suez protester in his 50s, says he was among a group attempting to file an official report at the police station “that several protesters are on a hunger strike, and that some had to be hospitalized” — reporting it officially as a form of pressure. He alleges that not only did the police officers refuse to acknowledge their request, but they also held them in custody for a few hours and mistreated them. “We were called names, and some policemen burned us with cigarettes,” El Temsah claims. “They kicked us and punched us and took away our phones. They were angry at the protesters, and they took it out on us.”

Regular people have become frustrated with the extension of revolt, calling for its end. And the frustration was reflected in newspaper columns and state-controlled media. Al-Wafd columnist Alaa Oreibi wrote on 18 July that perhaps the youth should start calling “for million-man marches that support building the state, and reviving tourism,” not more cabinet reshuffles.

But what do activists make of this? “[There are] no statistics to say how many are against July 8. But yes, it’s inevitable that we lose supporters as the government moves to make changes, even if cosmetic. I’m like those sitting in the square, I want to continue the pressure. But there’s no guarantee that if the numbers dwindle and we lose the support of the people that we won’t be clamped down upon and dispersed by force,” says Seif.

But whether or not “the general public agrees with it,” both Mowafi and Seif insist that the public should acknowledge the success of July 8. “We have to note that, for instance, the cabinet felt they had to contact the protest leaders before the reshuffle,” Seif says. “They communicated with people in Tahrir and consulted with us before forming what they deemed ‘a revolutionary cabinet’. That means it’s working.”

“The authorities have no choice now,” he adds. “They either provide more concessions or the situation will escalate.”

It’s not January 25 anymore — not the same faces or demands, or even the same unity. There’s no clear “enemy” and perhaps many critics, but the stakes are as high as ever, and the future seems to be still uncertain.