EGYPT AT A CROSSROADS

YALE INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS ASSOCIATION

Dear Reader, The January 25th Revolution has produced a generational shift that has had rippling effects throughout Egyptian society. The revolution has extended beyond Tahrir Square to businesses, factories, universities, and elsewhere, changing power structures in a historic way. Everyone believes their voice is worth hearing. And their message is always the same: Qaram! (Dignity!). To attempt to understand this generational shift, a team of six undergraduates from Yale University traveled to Cairo on March 6th, 2012. After receiving a generous grant from the Yale International Relations Association (YIRA), we set out to further study the Egyptian revolution through the medium of creative expression. Over the course of two weeks we visited galleries, attended concerts and dance performances, and interviewed an amazing collection of individuals whose diverse perspectives gave shape to our understanding of the events of the past year.

Among our many eye-opening interviews, we spoke with artist Nadine Hammam, whose controversial exhibition Tank Girl inverts masculine symbols of power, like the tank, to call for the end of military rule. We also met with David Kirkpatrick, Cairo Bureau Chief for The New York Times, who offered great insight on changing Western perceptions of Arab world. On page 10, you can find our interview with Ahmad Shokr, a senior editor of Al-Masry AlYoum, the largest independent newspaper in Egypt, and PhD candidate at New York University. Each person we met provided us with an abundance of insight on the complex challenges facing the country. In the following pages we share with you a few of our reflections on the cultural vibrancy of Egypts historic revolution. We hope you enjoy reading this publication. Sincerely, The YIRA Egypt Team New Haven, CT 2012

Marc DeWitt - Trip Leader

Sana Samnani - Trip Leader

Azad Amanat

Seth Thompson

Hadia Shah

Andrew Fleming

THE LAST NIGHT IN CAIRO

BY SETH THOMPSON

Over the course of our time in Cairo, our group befriended Mohammad El-Awy, the Director of Public Relations for El Adl, a liberal political party. After a number of nighttime tours and long conversations over sheesha in back-alley cafes, we gradually learned that he was an active participant in the revolution. Mohammad became our friend and guide and gave us a valuable perspective of the personal toll from involvement in the January 25th movement. Our last night in Cairo was perhaps our most memorable spent with Mohammad. The six of us squeezed into his tiny car for a hectic ride to a number of Cairos most important spots--each related in some way to Mohammads personal journey since the revolution. We drove past the National Cancer Institute of Egypt, a modern building funded by Suzanne Mubarak; through the back streets surrounding the US embassy where a close friend ofMohammads was killed as he looked on; into the City of the Dead, a dense grid of graves among which many of Cairos poorest residents live and work; and, eventually, up the winding road reading to Mokattam Hill, residence of many of Cairos richest elite. We passed the brand-new, sparkling marble office of the Muslim Brotherhood and drove through neighborhoods rumored to be inhabited by the upper echelons of the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF). Eventually, we ended up at an overlook near the top of the hill. The group stepped out of the car into the chilly spring night and made our way to the cliffside. Two young locals to our left huddled around a small bonfire next to a beat-up red motorcycle. On our other side, a group of teens laughed and waved a long-range green laser back and forth, signaling a friend in the valley miles below. Amid jokes and casual banter, Mohammad took photos with us and enjoyed the view. As we talked about our last night in Cairo, however, I could sense a change coming over Mohammad. The reality of our impending departure had more of an effect on our new friend than any of us had anticipated. Over

the last few days, Mohammad had grown to appreciate our friendship and, if nothing else, the eager audience we became. At a time when he and other protesters were most frustrated, our attentiveness provided a contrast to the perceived apathy of much of the general public. High up on the cliffside, his voice filled with passion, Mohammad admitted that his optimism in the revolution effecting long-term, permanent political change was wavering. Although the initial momentum of the January 25th movement brought about important and significant changes, Mohammad knew that the road to a truly democratic Egypt was a long one. The problem, he emphasized, was that the general public was either content with the departure of Mubaraks regime or did not recognize the systemic corruption that still plagues the media, the political sphere, and the operations of SCAF. Mohammads belief in the power of the Egyptian people was gradually waning. While many protesters said that they were committed to a struggle which could take a decade to be fully resolved, the weightiness of such a daunting process was finally made clear to us. The following day, Mohammad would return to work, balancing time between his nine-to-five dentistry practice and a busy evening of volunteering at the El Adl political party headquarters. Could he sustain ten years of that schedule in an environment where new set-backs, however temporary they may be, arrive everyday? Was his love of Egypt strong enough to outweigh his returning to Miami where he enjoyed a comfortable life during dental school? Despite his normal vigor and the strength of purpose he embodied throughout the past week, Mohammad seemed at this moment to be unsure of Egypts future. The chatter gradually turned to silence and we took one last look from the dark cliffs of Mokattam Hill out over sprawling Cairo, the ink-black, snake-like Nile, and millions of twinkling lights. Below us lay the solemn squalor of the City of the Dead and behind us, a row of mansions. In that last moment of reflection, I finally understood the complexity of Cairo and the Egyptian revolution. Mohammad was right, ousting Mubarak was just the beginning. The difficult road ahead will be establishing an Egypt in which all segments of the population contribute an equal voice in building a stable government: from the apathetic teens goofing around next to us to us to the busy politicians on the top floor of the Muslim Brotherhood offices.

TODAY BELONGS TO THE PEOPLE OF EGYPT

BY ANDREW FLEMING

IN THE CAIRO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, tourists are greeted by a large sign boasting an inspirational quote from President Obama: We must learn from the people of Egyptfor today belongs to the people of Egypt. Our team sought to actualize this ambition. We wanted to delve into Egyptian society through the lens of art and culture in order to best understand the revolution that has sparked movements across the globe. One of the most salient conclusions of our trip was that to best understand the power of the January 25th Revolution, we had to first gain an understanding of Egypts volatile political system in the 20th century. Our project on the 2011 revolution led us to study a different revolution that took place over fifty years ago: the Free Officers July 23 Revolution of 1952, which has played a crucial role in shaping contemporary Egyptian society. Before this military coup, foreign invaders had mostly ruled Egypt for nearly 2,500 years. During this period, the countrys domination changed hands between the Persians, the British, and the French among others. The military coup that took place in July 1952 established a new sentiment of uniquely Egyptian national pride. However, that sense of prideful identity was crushed by decades of dictatorial rule by Mubaraks regime. It wasnt until last January that the people experienced a reacquisition of empowerment. Now, nearly one year later, a cultural healing process has vibrantly taken root. During our trip to Cairo, we were able to take a look at this cultural revival through a number of different lenses. Each day our team had the opportunity to speak with a huge range of people from very different backgrounds and perspectives. To discuss Egypts new identity after 2011, Ive selected two of these perspectives on Egyptian identity. The first is that of Ahmed Shokary, the co-founder of the El Adl Party (Justice Party). The main constituency of El Adl Party is young professionals who come from

The January 25th Revolution allowed the Egyptian population to discover national pride for themselves for the first time in their history.

well-educated backgrounds and in some cases affluent lifestyles. Shoukry rejected any notion of a pan-Arab identity in the 2011 revolution. He argued that Egyptian identity is its own entirely. Shoukry told us that many Egyptians are frustrated with others efforts to attribute the source of the revolution to anyone besides themselves. For example, they perceive that Americans belief that Facebook was chiefly responsible plays into orientalist notions of an oppressed identity wishing to assimilate itself to Western culture. This is entirely not the case in fact, Western culture was much better received before the revolution than it is now. Young Egyptians are rejecting Western pop music, Western cinema, and Western trends in favor of their own Egyptian music, cinema and fashion. Shoukry argues that youth culture strays far from Western influence. The Egyptian youth have instead created their own culture and have revived certain elements of an Egyptian identity that had been suppressed by Mubarak. And most importantly, they are extremely proud of this accomplishment. The valuable part of Shoukrys perspective is that he remains constantly in touch with young voters within Cairos population. His insight showed a clear up-to-date understanding of how Egypts youth has fared since the revolution. This change has been drastic: women are already much more involved in politics, a music scene is gradually developing, and Egyptians are finding art to be an invaluable means of expression. All of this was could not be said before the revolution. Granted, Shokary

cally non-existent police force, and whats left of the government. It is important to note here that 40% of Egyptians cannot read or write and that 85% live below the poverty line. What does this mean for identity? If we look from the perspective of Elawis concern, the people cannot get any information from the newspaper, much less the internet. This means that they rely on what they are told by the corrupt police or the equally corrupt state-run radio. With misguided information, the people naturally struggle to fight for transparency and government. If they are informed by corruption, they become passively corrupt, in a sense. And once corruption becomes a part of many Egyptians daily routine, it becomes a cultural fixture this is the basis of Elawis concern. That being said, he is optimistic that the explosion of cultural expression after the revolution reveals a true revival of Egypts identity. Given the right amount of public exposure, such a revival would have incredible potential to bring the people back to a proud Egyptian identity. Despite pessimism about Egypts future, the newfound sense of empowerment amongst the Egyptian youth marks a significant shift from the oppressive Mubarak dictatorship. Developing forms of cultural expression are playing a crucial role in furthering Egyptian pride. Still, Egypt has a long, long way to go. One of the curators of El Misr art gallery in Cairos Zamalek district, Waleed Abdulkhalek, put it well: The revolution was a lot like turning on an old faucet that hasnt been used for a long time. The water is yellow and unsafe to drink at first, but eventually turns clear. The postrevolutionary period will doubtlessly be difficult. It may take 5 years or even a decade for the system to fix itself and for the Egyptian identity to fully heal after its suppression under Mubarak. The January 25th Revolution extends beyond elections and political parties. Its influence dates back to 1952, when Nasser instilled a sense of national pride in Egypt. Mubaraks regime oppressed that sentiment for decades. The January 25th Revolution will be a historic moment for Egypt because an empowered people, not a military dictator, discovered their national pride. This sense of empowerment is working to reestablish Egypts pride. In these terms, the revolution has only begun.

The revolution was a lot like turning on an old faucet that hasnt been used for a long time. The water is yellow and unsafe to drink at first, but eventually turns clear.

was adamant that all of this creative energy and vibrant sense of Egyptian identity was there during Mubaraks reign. The incredible surge in cultural expression that has taken place over the past year is simply a sort of Egyptian renaissance, born from the national pride voiced loudly in Tahrir last January. The second perspective I would like to highlight is that of Mohamed Elewa, a dentist who spends his afternoon volunteering for the El Adl Party. We met with him various times outside of our interview with the rest of the party and had lengthy conversations about the state of Egyptian society. One night, he brought us to the top Cairos highest mountain and we looked out over the shanty-towns below. Many of the countrys most powerful military and government elite live on this same mountain, removed from the depravity of the masses. As we witnessed the disparate inequality, Elawa began to passionately reveal his frustration about Egypts future. Despite the underlying good nature and humor of Egyptians, they are now tangled in the bureaucratic system that undermined the legitimacy of Mubaraks regime. Even after Mubarak stepped down, the people have not realized that the current system was just as bad as the leader. He says that in a way, because the system is so corrupt and the people are blind to it, the people have fallen into a spiral of corruption. To put it in Elewas words, before the revolution, I missed the people, but not Egypt. Now I miss Egypt, but not the people. His concern is that Egyptian pride will slip away because of the residual corruption that pervades the state media, the business community, the practi-

Hadia Shah outlines steps that must be taken so that the success of the January 25th Revolution are not rolled back.

NEXT STEPS FOR THE EGYPTIAN REVOLUTION

BY HADIA SHAH
The million-dollar question associated with postrevolution media: How does Egypt move forward from here? Mubarak has been removed from government, the foundations of his regime remain, and the country still faces severe economic deficiencies. We were told several times that we had travelled to Egypt in a peaceful timebecause the revolutionary energy has been suppressed in anticipation of the upcoming presidential elections. Many are hopeful that elections will bring necessary change to the country (with the exception of most elites). However, the political and voting processes are hard enough to navigate, without 40% of the Egyptian population being illiterate. As Nadine Hammam, the artist behind the Tank Girl exhibit, noted, education, not politics, is necessary to reform Egypt. Perhaps controversially, I suggest that education should be reformed before Egypt can have a just democracy. A majority of citizens have limited media access to information about the political and social changes occurring in their country. They listen to the biased state media, AlAhram, as their news source. Inevitably, this fundamental lack of education informs the political process, the platforms of the candidates, and the state of their country as a whole, and will only lead to the return of an undesirable state of affairs. Egypt cannot change until its people do. Currently, Egypt has a mandatory elementary education policy for children ages 6-14. Although many do attend, at least preliminary school, many also drop out. However, education for all would still fail to instruct the masses, even if every Egyptian child was to attend school. The problem is not in the prevalence, but in the quality. A study in 2011 showed that teachers earn, on average, $460 annually. That is less than half the income of the average citizen. Those recruited in the system are entering education as a last resort career. The quality of educators passing on information to the next generation is,

consequently, abysmal. How can the youth of Egypt (aside from the elites) work to reform their country when they cannot gain access to a good education? They cannot. Even more basically, the voting population needs to be literate, so that the future government is really an institution of the people. In terms of higher education, Egypt cannot change until the population is given the tools to assess the problems facing their nation or have the opportunity to pursue careers that fields that allow them to make real change. Yet, only 30% of Egyptians attend university, and only half of those graduate. The Egyptian government needs to increase spending on education. Otherwise, the economic and social issues crippling the nation will never be resolved. The growing economic differences between the elites and the poor of Egypt add tension to the class dynamic that can only be resolved through the opportunity for upward mobility via schooling. So while the population of Egypt debates the next president of their democracy, maybe the best option is to have a strong, just centralized leader and hold off on democracy until the Egyptian education system has allowed the voting population to be in a position to choose representatives with their interests in mind. The idea of welfare is very different in Egypt as opposed to the United States. In America, economic conservatives think that welfare

supports a class of drug addicts, teen moms, and alcoholics. This view, although overly general, has some validity in our society that is often prone to vice. In a similar fashion, as Ahmad Shokr, who is currently pursuing a PhD in Middle Eastern welfare systems, relayed: Americans and Egyptians expect very different services from their governments. Americans often want government out of economics since it interferes with our capitalistic pursuits, that is, The American Dream. Conversely, Egyptians expect assistance from their leadership. They want healthcare, education, and job opportunities to be provided for them. Furthermore, welfare in Egypt wouldnt be for drug addicts because the strong religious values of the region forbid such things. It would assist the unemployed who cannot find jobs in the current economy. Similarly to the argument I pose about education, this furthers the divide between the wealthy and the poor. As we witnessed on our trip, a majority of the country is filled with poverty with the exception of the few extremely westernized elites. Welfare, in combination with education, is necessary to combat poverty. Eventually, this will lead to equal opportunities among classes. If Egypt wants to move forward, the government must work to raise the standard of living for the poor while expanding the middle class

Children learn English through song at the Access Program sponsored by the U.S. Embassy in Cairo

ABU AL-ABBAS AL-MURSI MOSQUE

ALEXANDRIA, EGYPT

A CONVERSATION WITH AHMAD SHOKR

CONDUCTED BY MARC DEWITT

Ahmad Shokr is a senior editor of Al-Masry Al-Youm, the largest independent newspaper in Egypt, and PhD candidate at New York University. Marc: The first issue I would like to address is changing perceptions of the revolution within different factions of Egyptian society. Have you experienced a shift in public opinion against Tahrir? Ahmad Shokr: Public perception of the revolution has really been in flux over the past year. One of the things to bear in mind is that this is a revolution that started as a mass uprising, but with very few mass political organizations. So what that has meant is that it has been very difficult for those in power to sit down with a refined group of people and hammer out some kind of pact that can restore a state of calm. The revolution was a very spontaneous affair and with the exception of the Muslim Brotherhood, there werent any mass organizations. I think what that has meant is that propaganda has been a very important tool, for all the different sides, for the military council but also for secular and Islamic parties, trying to win over as wide a slice of the Egyptian public as possible. So what thats meant is that public opinion is always shifting. Any given day of protest has been preceded by a very intense public battle about whether people should go or not. These groups campaign about what the protest actually means, what the demonstrators really want, whether they are true revolutionaries or if there are foreign interests involved. This process has really affected perceptions of the revolution. Perceptions have not gone one direction or another; instead there is a continuous flux. My general sense, though, is that there is a growing sense of mistrust and frustration with the establishment as a whole. A lot of people are disappointed.

Marc: Do you think there is a presidential candidate that adequately stands for the values of the revolutionaries in the coming elections? Ahmad Shokr: There is certainly a debate within the protest movement, narrowly defined as a group of activists and human rights workers (within a much broader constituency of supporters as well). What made the initial revolt successful was that the much smaller group of activists were suddenly able to pull in massive support for the movement. Within this larger revolutionary movement, there has

been a great deal of debate. For quite some time there were a lot of people within this constituency that had been supporting Mohammed El-Baradei, former head of the IAEA, whose withdrawal from the race has complicated things; there is still a search for a candidate. One of the names that is being proposed is Aboul Foutouh, an Islamist, reformist and ex-member of the Brotherhood. He has demanded a lot of respect from the Left and has been consistently critical of the military, so hes winning a lot of support. There is a handful of other less well-known candidates that are being proposed, but to answer your question, no, there is not one single candidate that would be able to rally this pro-democracy constituent. Marc: Do you think Mohammed El-Baradei had the potential to unify these pro-democracy activists? Ahmad Shokr: I think at a certain moment he had the potential to do so. But now he is a very divisive figure. In the transition to a democratically elected government, a referendum laid out the map for the transition period. There was a deep polarization that emerged from this process, where most of the Islamists groups were in favor of the amendments and others like El-Baradei were against it. Since then and through the summer, this state of polarization persisted and slowly began to erode public support for him. Within the framework of this polarization, he became cast as someone who was hostile to Islam and solely representing secular

interests. As a result his chances were diminishing quite significantly. Marc: It seems then that the divisive factor is Islam. If thats true, then where do you think the revolutionary youth fit into this polarizing framework? Ahmad Shokr: I wouldnt say the dividing factor is Islam. I think what is happening is that different political forces use the message of religion versus secularism as a way of establishing their legitimacy over certain constituencies. But in reality the dividing line is not so clear. The real fault line over the past months has been peoples positions towards the military council and elements of the old regime that remained in power. Sometimes that division took on appearance as one between Islamists and secularists, but in fact it was much more complicated than that. On any given debate, if you were to look at both those who were more conciliatory with the military council and those in opposition, you would find people of very different levels of religiosity. In many ways I think the religious question has been manipulated by political forces for their own political agenda, while the reality of the situation is a bit more complicated.

ILLUSIONS OF THE U.S. EMBASSY

BY SANA SAMNANI
On March 8th, the team attended an open mic night organized by the U.S. Embassy in Cairo to celebrate International Womens Day. The event was sponsored by one of the Embassys largest cultural programs, Sing Egyptian Women, a competition between Egyptian female singers to win a record deal in an American studio. The contests resembles American Idol or Britains Got Talent, where votes cast by the nation through Facebook and SMS texting. The open-mic was held in a downtown venue located in an impoverished district of Cairo. The event featured many young comedians, activists, and singers, including the female contestants in the competition. The songs these young women chose were not especially surprising, particularly since we had been previously informed in several of our interviews that many of these contestants are not necessarily in touch with the struggles of the everyday Egyptians. Out of the several contestants in attendance, only two sang patriotic Egyptian songs, whereas the rest performed several American numbers by Western artists such as Whitney Houston, Lana del Ray, Christina Aguilera, and Etta James. Further, it seemed that the only people in attendance were a very elite upper crust of Egyptians. Interestingly enough, the girls on our team arrived in loose, simple clothing, as we were told is appropriate in Egypt, while the performers wore ornate jewelry and tight leggings. There was a ticket price of twenty Egyptian pounds, which automatically hindered the entrance of anyone who would have been haggling in the bazaar right outside the building, or more likely than not, begging for spare change. I found myself completely disoriented, knowing that there had just been a minor protest on the next block over, while on the opposite block people were living in destitute conditions. And there I was, sitting in a raised chair in an unassuming establishment that had been turned into a miniature American coffee shop for the night, sipping tea and enjoying another rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow. My initial reaction was anger at the U.S. Embassy mainly for sponsoring such an elitist event, for promoting womens rights but through the wrong means. How could they not know that a national singing competition over Facebook would not appeal to the majority of Egyptians? How could they not know that many of them do not have the means to vote through Facebook or SMS? How could the embassy not know that in a conservative society such as Egypt, many women would not compete in such a contest in the first place? It all seemed such a waste of time and resources. If the purpose of the cultural events hosted by the U.S. Embassy in Cairo is to enlighten Egyptians with American culture, then this event was incredibly successful, albeit for a minor segment of the population. However, if the purpose was to promote discussion about engagement in womens rights and empowerment, then what did the event really accomplish? The Embassy should be asking itself what kind of impact it is trying to make, considering its audience. It is meant to promote diplomatic relations, and it cannot do so by alienating and excluding the majority of Egypts population. A more effective strategy the Embassy could take when it next hosts a cultural event could be focusing on the artistic explosion that appeals to the masses of Egypt, such as the chants and songs that have come out of the revolution or the graffiti and Islamic art that litters the walls and architecture of the city. These forms of creative expression, much more so than reproductions of American songs by Egyptian artists, are representative of the sentiment in Egypt, as well as how the people wish to empower themselves.

A Young Egyptian woman particpates in the U.S. Embassys Sing Egyptian Women competition.

ART AS CONVERSATION
BY MARC DEWITT

Stumbling across the dusty streets of downtown Cairo, our team is lost in search of Gallery AlMasar. The streets are poorly marked and the locals havent heard of it. Finally, I find an elegant French expatriate on the sidewalk who helpfully points me in the right direction. The gallery is tucked away in an ivy-covered, one-story house, removed from the perpetual noise of the city. We are greeted by Waleed Abulkhalek, the well-groomed gallery director. With a click on his remote control, an assistant scurries in to bring us Turkish coffee and chocolates. Mr. Abdulkhalek proceeds to give us a tour of Taha Husseins latest exhibition East... West and describes the influence of Goethes exploration of the other and the self in the other in Husseins work. During his pauses, a somewhat discomforting silence pervades the gallery - we are its only visitors. This silence, the expensive clothing of Mr. Abdulkhalek and his eloquent propriety present Al-Masar as a binary opposite to the chaos, poverty and dirt of the outside world. I ask Mr. Abdulkhalek if the explosion of street art in post-revolution Cairo has led to larger audiences at his gallery. He responds coarsely that such graffiti is not art. True art, he reveals, must dwell in the soul of the artist for a period of at least one year before it can properly express itself. In fact, he refused to display revolutionary art until February of this year. In his eyes, graffiti signifies immediate pleasure, amounting to little more than politically charged scribbles on a wall. Slogans without emotional power. A stencil can be reproduced an infinite number of times, but true art cannot be replicated. For the gallery director (and self-proclaimed art extraordinaire), graffiti is an uncivilized shout. You cant hold a constructive conversation if everyone is shouting. There is no poignancy in graffiti, he concludes. His eloquent speech further gives the appearance of exclusive opposition between his indoor gallery and the outside world.

As we continued to meet other artists and activists throughout our stay, we were led to believe that Abdulkhaleks judgement was perhaps misguided. We learned that street art plays as a powerful role in not only reflecting, but driving political conversation. This insight was especially brought to our attention by Soraya Morayef, writer and freelance journalist, who runs a popular blog on street art in Cairo. Soraya recounted the drama surrounding the controversial tank stencil under the 6th of October bridge. For several months, a stencil of a gigantic tank facing a boy on a bicycle went untouched. After the Maspero violence in October, another artist painted a pool of blood under the tank. Within a few hours, army loyalists, or perhaps the army itself, painted over the blood and the boy, only leaving the tank (an action which within itself serves as a powerful symbol for Egypts current political struggle). Over the following weeks the stencil was modified numerous times: bodies were depicted under the tank, an Egyptian flag was added, removed, then added again. The tank stencil became art-in-progress, an artistic dialectic between divisive viewpoints on the revolution. Soraya commented how each day a collection of people would gather around the mural and discuss the latest changes and how they impact the power of the work. Artistic conversation between graffiti artists

on the wall was being reciprocated by conversation on the street. The graffiti was encouraging spontaneous gatherings that addressed important political questions and considered the intricacies of a new Egyptian state. Similar happenings were taking place beside the murals on Mohammed Mahmoud St, near Tahrir Square, and elsewhere across the city. Indeed, artistic conversation was taking place not in Abdulkhaleks air-conditioned gallery, but on the dirty, overcrowded streets of Cairo. Nor are innovative forms of cultural expression restricted to street art. Given the lack of access to elitist art galleries and distrust in the corrupt state media, the Egyptian youth is finding exciting new ways to express itself. We visited an open-air exhibition of revolution photography installed in AlAzhar Park entitled Visionary Africa: Art at Work. Simon Njami, the exhibitions curator, invites the viewer to challenge global inequality with cultural power. His wish is to create not an elitist museum closed to the movement but on the contrary, a museum conceived as a space of mediation and dialogue. We also met with an organizer of Kazeboon (Liars), a grassroots initiative to encourage political dissent in public spaces with improvised video projections. The group displays short films that highlight military cruelty and political corrup-

tion, providing an alternative voice to the nefarious state media. Discussion typically follows the video amongst the audience. Lastly, social networking has played a famous (although often overstated) role in giving a voice to the voiceless across the Middle East. These initiatives suggest that Mr. Abdulkhaleks aclk of appreciation for non-gallery art is not only elitist, but illusory. The belief that worthwhile art only exists inside climate-controlled rooms fails to take notice of the powerful cultural movements occurring on the streets of Cairo. His language points to Structuralist thought where naturally occurring phenomenon are constructed in binary class opposition. As on mutually excludes off, his gallery is creative, poignant and civilized, while the streets are dull, reactionary and illiterate. True binary oppositions do not allow confusion, given their mutual exclusivity, much like Mr. Abdulkhaleks clean and orderly worldview. However, the artistic explosion outside of secluded art galleries leads to a collapse of this elitist position. Njami asserts that artistic creation is a vector of transformation and social cohesion. In Egypt, the revolution has broken down the traditional barriers of cultural elitism. Its power has unleashed creative expression.

The progression of Gazneers tank stencil into an artistic dialectic.

The team chats with Waleed Abdulkhalek, Director of Al-Mazhar Gallery.

Egyptian streetmarketers often take advantage of tourists who visit Cairo hoping to feel closer to the revolution.

THE COMMERCIALIZATION OF THE REVOLUTION

BY SANA SAMNANI
One year ago, the entire world watched as Egyptians took to the streets of Cairo and demanded basic human freedoms after decades of brutal dictatorship. Today, more than a year later, they still maintain the same fervor with which they expressed long-suppressed ideals in Tahrir Square. The wound that has begun to heal still stings a bit, however, from old residue, and cleaning that wound and reasserting those values has been a continuous process. Already, many have grown tired with the slow progress that the transitional government has made. Many are already pessimistic about the future of Egypt. Egyptians are also very conscious of the worlds scrutiny, for this is a revolution that has enthralled the international community. And although it is quite clear that the events in Egypt were not caused by social media or by the West, one cannot deny that this movement was the first of its kind in a digital age, in an extremely capitalist world. Interestingly enough, these two characteristics became instantly apparent when I walked through Tahrir Square and saw makeshift stores selling memories of the revolution through nostalgic memorabilia. One year after the revolution began, the Egyptian people have had time to catch their breath and consider next steps. As they look to the future, they see the reality of the consequences of revolution: substantial change usually takes a long period of time to come to fruition. With the military as the only enforcing mechanism in the country and the indecisiveness of current political parties like the Muslim Brotherhood, it no longer seems that true democracy will come to Egypt in the next year. Pessimism about the future is thus understandable.

In the meantime, what are the people to do? How are they living their lives, and what is happening in Egypt now? One of the unintended consequences of this revolution in this past year has been its commercialization, not just for foreigners but for Egyptians themselves. With democracy looming on the horizon like an unattainable mirage, many Egyptians have settled for personal economic growth as a more immediate goal, rather than state development. Walking down Mohamed Mahmoud St., I am by incessantly pestered by hawks and street touts everywhere. On one corner, there is a charming fellow waits to grab my hand and paint the Egyptian flag for ten guinay, only ten. In the square, stalls filled with revolution rings, flags, and other memorabilia have sprung up. These people understand that tourists come to see not just the site of the revolution, but they also want to feel closer to it themselves. For Americans and even some Egyptians wearing a revolution ring has become a fashion statement. Listening to songs and chants of the revolution from young artists who wrote their music in Tahrir Square is a statement. Every day, a new artist or a new musician comes out with work inspired by the events.

Selling the revolution in such a way, as one man deemed it, is not wrong and shouldnt be. It is understandable that the revolution is codified in this way because this was such a visible uprising, because the world watched Egyptians gather in Tahrir from their homes. Besides, only the elite buys from the revolution industry; ordinary Egyptians are far removed from revolution rings and artwork. The sellers themselves are also benefiting, at least in the short term, by earning money from the revolution, when many have suffered from it due to the decline in tourism in the past year. Beyond this revolution industry, it is important that such feelings of nationalism and pride have a lasting impact in the Egyptian mindset. It is incredibly important to remember and retain the creative energy of last year, and commercializing this energy allows for the events to remain in peoples minds. Revolutions shape generations, and an entire culture, manifested not just through art and music but also through consumer goods, has developed after the events in Egypt last year.

As we walked through the streets of Cairo, we were hounded by those selling the revolution.

A CONVERSATION WITH EMAD SHAHIN

CONDUCTED BY SANA SAMNANI

On March 8th, we meet with Emad Shahin, Professor of Religion, Conflict and Peacebuilding at Notre Dame University. His research focuses on Islam, democracy and the rule of law; Islam and war and peace; and democratic transformation in Egypt and the Middle East. His columns are frequently featured in The New York Times, CNN International, BBC and Al-Jazeera. Sana: What was your impression of the revolution? How do you assess its aftermath? Emad Shahin: This was a momentous and historic event, everyone will tell you that. For me, personally, it was the regeneration of hope. The success of the revolution was that it inspired the Egyptian people to break many barriers. The fear barrier, of course, is on top of them, but also other barriers, such as peoples political participation in public. This idea of Mubaraks monopoly over power and over dreams was very common in Egypt before the revolution. To explain these two elements, there are so many things one can talk about, especially now. You will now hear so many people talk about how the revolution has been frustrated and hindered. But before January of last year, people would have been very cautious with public dissent. All that has changed. The people now feel empowered, even in terms of the utility and the efficacy of their education. Their self-confidence and ability to look forward to a bright future were shattered in the past. I think the revolution gave the youth some sort of role, hope and mission. They are part of this historic process. They made it. By definition, a revolution is a phenomenon of multi-class, a huge broad coalition, so we cannot give the credit to one social segment in society. But of course there was a spark. And the youth was the spark for this revolution. The other thing was all these barriers that were removed. If you look now, you feel the youth is reject-

ing any kind of superior authority of power. Even in classical issue structures, like the issue of parliament or the issue of a military council that can decide on their behalf. This idea of being restrained by these traditional forces has been rejected. This has been a great outcome of the revolution. And what comes next will be an ongoing struggle. We will know that we say its a revolution of hope and expectation. But from a political science point of view, we know that its a little bit short of a true revolution in terms of radical transformation, the presence of a vanguard party and ideological formation. These terms were not part of the making of this revolution. But maybe since

this is part of the world where live, that is, this kind of very expansive, horizontal technology, maybe we should expect that people power will express themselves in a revolutionary way, but in a different revolution format. Also, the idea of dignity, qaram, was very paramount. I know this will sound perhaps counterrevolutionary, but the idea of emphasizing the individual to rise up and raise your head up - that was very clear in this revolution. Sana: What do you think the role of Islam will be in a post-Mubarak Egypt? Emad Shahin: I think were dealing with a number of things here: religion, the influence of religion on society, religion in politics and then to what extent you want religion to form part in politics. For Egyptians, like for any other people, these issues are highly complex. According to Gallup Reports, 74% of Egyptians want Sharia to be the source of inspiration. The same number does not want a clergy or hierarchical institution to rule them. The same number think a democratic system would be the best system of government for Egypt. So, you see the mind works in different levels. One level is the issue of source of reference. I think for a large extent, Muslims and Copts in Egypt would like to only have religion as their source of reference. Why do I say only? Because, of course, any liberal will take issue and tell me, No, this is debatable. We have liberal notions and universals, and so on. But I am talking about reference for their personal life, which is still intact when it comes to divorce, marriage, and other social issues. The Church has an extremely important and influential role in deciding on these issues, and the same is true for Sharia law. This is from a legal point of view. From a more elastic point of view, the West, whether its the United States or Europe, has produced over centuries something you can refer to as civic culture or a civic, ethical framework. Maybe its drawn from the Bible or the Torah, the Ten Commandments, but at least the framing of it has acquired a secular tone. And maybe you cannot trace that to its Roman, or Greek, or Biblical sources. Whereas for the Copts and for the Muslims, the only ethical framework is religion in this case. This is very important, this explains the failure of 20th

century liberalism in Egypt. And, of course, this religious influence is not only here, its across the Middle East, we live in a very religious part of the world. Having said that, the issue of to what extent religion will be involved in politics and who is going to implement religion in political issues. This is a controversial question. I should add that I speak mainly from my impressions, since we do not have empirical studies in Egypt, unfortunately. Im led to believe that Egyptians do not want an Islamic state. They do not want a system like Iran or Saudia Arabia. No, they are religious, or conservative, if you wish. But at the same time, they are very moderate, in terms of their religion, and maybe individualistic. They compartmentalize. An Egyptian thinks he can be religious in his own private sphere, and be different in my public sphere. But of course this leads to a clash in religious perspectives on the extent that religion should play in society. And thats what we see. The Muslim Brotherhood has a perspective. The Salafis have a perspective. The mainstream independent Muslims will have a perspective. The Copts will have a perspective. Sana: Do you think there can be a majority opinion? Throughout the history of Islam there has existed a plurality of opinions that have been acceptable, but in a democracy, the law will be shaped by the majority. Emad Shahin: Yes, there of course is a majority opinion, which we call the mainstream. The problem is who is more organized within this mainstream to have a louder voice and to rally for votes in an election. This is exactly what is happening. If you look at the electorate constituency in Egypt, now it is 52 million. And if you look at the breakdown in the parliamentary elections, the Muslim Brotherhood won ten million, the Salafis won seven million. In total, the Islamic parties won a total of 17 million. Out of 52 million people, this is less than one-third. But how is this represented in seats? They win three-quarters. I think this success is more a sign of organization than of popularity. In addition, of course, they have been on the ground for decades. People recognize them. People know them through their social work. And this organization leads to electoral success.

ANNA IRANI
BY AZAD AMANAT
My travels to Egypt as a young 12 year old shook my world view as never before. The poverty, standards of living, and pure visceral energy of Cairos bustling streets deeply disturbed my limited understanding of the world, and along with the new sensation of jet lag, kept me up for nights on end. But this bewilderment at a radically different environment was accompanied by a faint but growing sense of cultural similarity and understanding. Coming from an Iranian-American background, I felt the distance between my identity and that of the Arab world begin to shrink. Through the lyrical stream of Arabic that surrounded me, a word commonly used in Persian would jump out and grab my attention, reminding me of Egypts cultural proximity to Iran. My parents ability to read signage and partially communicate with Egyptians further emphasized a cultural connection that I grew to relish. Having never visited Iran, despite a strong desire to do so since I was very young, visiting Egypt allowed me to familiarize and acclimate myself to a Middle Eastern setting and grow to love the cultural connections that surpass national boundaries. This experience was very much in mind when we touched down in Cairo while on spring break. I had already experienced the excitement of hearing the relatively familiar language of Turkish with a stopover in Istanbul. Now at a more mature age, I experienced a new phenomenon; many people spoke to me in Turkish, assuming that I was a Turk because of my looks and complexion. The same was true in Egypt. The full questions and interactions in Arabic showed that many took me for an Egyptian, a feeling that was both liberating and highly restrictive at the same time. As long as I responded in yes or nos, the illusion could be sustained. Often this was not the case, and a full explanation and further conversation that was tainted with a hint of suspicion followed. Once the dialogue picked up, the conversation was generally one of excitement or interest, as most Egyptians of all backgrounds were very receptive to meeting an Iranian. In the highly politicized world that is modern Cairo, the first response to Anna Irani (I am Iranian) was often one of political sup-

port and almost a sense of envy. You have a good President, many would retort. Why? I asked. He is strong! they would answer with gusto and passion. In one case, a cab driver further elaborated the sense of pride associated with a Muslim leader and country standing up to Israel and Western powers. Interestingly enough, enthusiasm was limited to the current president Ahmadinejad and did not extend to the entire regime, possibly suggesting that support for the Iranian regime was based less on ideology and more on the opposition towards the West and Israel. Particularly, many Egyptians seemed impressed with Irans uncompromising stance on the nuclear issue, and saw the stubborn resilience of the regime towards developing nuclear reactors as a matter of dignity, honor, and respect. A few interactions with individuals who were probably Salafis (religious fundamentalists) showed a less hospitable reception. In this case, a quick almost instinctual response of Shiite or Sunni immediately followed my self-identification. Such absolutists were not pleased to hear the expected logical response of Shiite (Iran has a dominant Shiite majority), and often responded by attempting to describe to my fellow travellers (while ignoring me) that Shiism is more of a cult than a denomination of Islam. Other times, my companions were passionately told that Shiism is just a strain of Sunnism that has gone astray. The clear lack of tolerance and inability to comprehend religious beliefs different than his own was difficult to accept, but was thankfully a rarity. It should be noted that a majority of such conversations were with members of the working class, known to be particularly religious. In addition to political admiration, positive sentiment for Iran may reflect an interest in the perceived connection between Irans governing establishment and Islamic steadfastness. As a religiously conservative country. the Iranian regimes hardline application of Islamic law appealed to many pious Egyptians. Many of Egypts more secular elite were often less supportive of the Iranian regime and in a number cases compared the Islamic Republic to Mubaraks dictatorship. Numerous activists who bravely participated in the protest movement that brought down former President Mubarak strongly criticized the Iranian government, citing the brutal crackdown on pro-democracy protestors during the aftermath of the 2009 election as a forerunner to their own movement.

Regardless of political affiliation, class, or religious belief, Egyptians almost always received Anna Irani with a special warmth and hospitality that made a homesick stranger feel very welcome.

You have a good President, many would retort. Why? He is strong! He fights America and Israel! they would respond with gusto and passion.