Yesterday afternoon I bought two papers. The headline of Horeya wa Adela, the Brotherhood's paper read: "Million-man march at Etihadia Palace: the people support the President's decisions." The photo showed throngs of Egyptians waving posters of Morsi. Meanwhile, Al-Masry al-Youm, a liberal paper, declared: "The Uprising of November 23: Tahrir says to the President - 'Get lost'" and Morsi says to the Brotherhood - 'I will hold those who are out of line accountable.'" These are two perspectives on Friday's events. All week, protests have been heating up and tear gas and rubber bullet skirmishes erupting in the streets of downtown. People were angry about a number of things already, including the fighting in Gaza and an extremely tragic crash between a bus and a train in Asyut last week. And of course the direct impetus for this bout of unrest was the one-year anniversary of the Mohamed Mahmoud clashes. Many were dismayed to see the memorial become something of a repeat, but opponents of the Brotherhood were galvanized on Thursday by Morsi's constitutional declaration seizing additional powers for himself (supposedly just until the completion of the new constitution in a few months). In a situation in which Morsi already holds executive and legislative powers as a consequence of the dissolution of Parliament some time ago, to many the seizure of judicial authority as well seems a step down a dangerous path. An anti-Brotherhood and Mohamed Mahmoud commemorative march to Tahrir from Mostafa Mahmoud mosque in Mohandiseen that was organized before the declaration was attended by the three favorite candidates of secularists, liberals, and moderate leftists: Mohamed ElBaradei, Hamdeen Sabahy, and Amr Moussa. It appears now that they are working to form a political coalition, a National Front, though it's unfortunately late in the game -- if only they could have coalesced before the presidential election, the Brotherhood might never have been in power in the first place.
After the march on Friday afternoon, a sit-in began in Tahrir, with 400 or so still camped out in tents as of Saturday afternoon. Now, Sunday morning, Twitter voices are reporting that despite even smaller numbers, tear gas bombs have overwhelmed the square. On Friday evening, I was on a boat in the Nile, a bit south of downtown, when a friend texted me to report that another friend had just witnessed demonstrators lighting a police van on fire, with all the officers inside. (Eventually they escaped.) Another friend, a reporter who had spent the day in Tahrir, described how police had staked out the roof of a high school on Mohamed Mahmoud St. and were hurling rocks down on demonstrators at regular intervals. In Alexandria and Suez, demonstrators set fire to the FJP's headquarters. Anti-Ikhwan forces have called for another millioniyya on Tuesday. But will people show up? These million-man marches have become fairly regular in Egypt, and as my friend pointed out, sometimes he shows up and there are only 50 people. It's hard to gauge, from my perspective, how much momentum there is, especially without going to downtown to see events for myself.
Regardless, there are definitely two sides this time, and those who support the Brotherhood's leadership in general, and Morsi's declaration in particular, are also willing to go to the streets. While the Horeya wa Adela headline was a numerical exaggeration (everything seems to have become a millioniyya), the Ikhwan's people really do come out and get organized. Supporters say that Morsi's move on Thursday was necessary to protect the goals of the revolution, stabilize the civilian government, and help the country move out of its stalled transitional phase as quickly as possible -- in fact, to get the constitution finished and judges remaining from the old regime out of the courts. At first, even the liberal journalist Shahira Amin (see old blog post) came out in support of Morsi. She posted on Facebook on Friday: "My message to Egypt's liberals: Morsi speaks our language. He is saying exactly what you are saying and has the same goals in mind. If you support him, his message will be even louder and we will attain our goals quicker. Did you not hear him respond to the chants of 'the people want shari'a law' saying shari'a is rule of law, freedom, and justice for all?" (Later, though, she expressed her dismay with Morsi's failure to delineate a timeline for relinquishing his 'temporary' additional powers.)
I'm not sure at this point how the new decree will be applied. This is Al-Jazeera's summary, which is pretty grim:
President says new decree is aimed at 'cleansing state institutions'
Decree allows president to appoint public prosecutor for a four-year term
Morsi gave himself power to enact any law he wants
Morsi's decree effectively sacks the current prosecutor general, which means no authority can revoke any presidential decisions
Morsi has ordered the retrial of officials linked to killing of protesters
Morsi's decree to remain in force until a new parliament is elected
Parliament canmot be elected until a new constitution is in place
Morsi also extended the timeline for drafting the new constitution
Morsi says he has to have absolute power to protect the revolution
Critics have compared Morsi 's move to Hosni Mubarak's autocratic ways and denounced the move as a 'coup against legitimacy'
It's both reassuring to folks at home and frustrating to me that I can be so close to the action -- just across the river at least -- and have very little idea of what's going on. Even passing through Tahrir underground, in the metro station, there are no signs of the chaos above. Early in the week, it was even unclear to me what people were protesting about, because one regional and national crisis flowed into the next. First was Gaza, which enraged Egyptians, not surprisingly. In cyberspace, Egyptians used "we" to talk about Gazans standing up to Israel. "Share hope, we need no sympathy!" wrote one friend on Facebook. Then, even before Morsi had stepped in to negotiate the Gaza ceasefire, another tragedy occurred. In Asyut, a school bus crashed into an oncoming train while trying to cross the tracks. Again there have been conflicting stories about what exactly went terribly wrong: it appears that the warning light system was broken and the watchman who was supposed to stop traffic was asleep on the job. The result was the death of 60 children. Immediately people called for the governor and transportation minister to resign for tolerating such gross negligence (regardless of whose fault the crash was). The government announced the sum it would pay to families of the deceased and injured children. People were outraged that it was so low. When the same was raised, many were still outraged that the government would put a price on the life of an Egyptian child at all. Especially, though, people were outraged that the Prime Minister was in Gaza and the government (as was explained to me) seemed to care so much more about the tragedy in Gaza than the tragedy at home in Egypt. Basically, many Egyptians were furious that a Gazan life seemed to have greater value to the government (for political reasons) than an Egyptian life. People sat on train tracks throughout Egypt in protest, and these protests bled into the streets. And these in turn bled into the commemoration of Mohamed Mahmoud.
After the march on Friday afternoon, a sit-in began in Tahrir, with 400 or so still camped out in tents as of Saturday afternoon. Now, Sunday morning, Twitter voices are reporting that despite even smaller numbers, tear gas bombs have overwhelmed the square. On Friday evening, I was on a boat in the Nile, a bit south of downtown, when a friend texted me to report that another friend had just witnessed demonstrators lighting a police van on fire, with all the officers inside. (Eventually they escaped.) Another friend, a reporter who had spent the day in Tahrir, described how police had staked out the roof of a high school on Mohamed Mahmoud St. and were hurling rocks down on demonstrators at regular intervals. In Alexandria and Suez, demonstrators set fire to the FJP's headquarters. Anti-Ikhwan forces have called for another millioniyya on Tuesday. But will people show up? These million-man marches have become fairly regular in Egypt, and as my friend pointed out, sometimes he shows up and there are only 50 people. It's hard to gauge, from my perspective, how much momentum there is, especially without going to downtown to see events for myself.
Regardless, there are definitely two sides this time, and those who support the Brotherhood's leadership in general, and Morsi's declaration in particular, are also willing to go to the streets. While the Horeya wa Adela headline was a numerical exaggeration (everything seems to have become a millioniyya), the Ikhwan's people really do come out and get organized. Supporters say that Morsi's move on Thursday was necessary to protect the goals of the revolution, stabilize the civilian government, and help the country move out of its stalled transitional phase as quickly as possible -- in fact, to get the constitution finished and judges remaining from the old regime out of the courts. At first, even the liberal journalist Shahira Amin (see old blog post) came out in support of Morsi. She posted on Facebook on Friday: "My message to Egypt's liberals: Morsi speaks our language. He is saying exactly what you are saying and has the same goals in mind. If you support him, his message will be even louder and we will attain our goals quicker. Did you not hear him respond to the chants of 'the people want shari'a law' saying shari'a is rule of law, freedom, and justice for all?" (Later, though, she expressed her dismay with Morsi's failure to delineate a timeline for relinquishing his 'temporary' additional powers.)
I'm not sure at this point how the new decree will be applied. This is Al-Jazeera's summary, which is pretty grim:
It's both reassuring to folks at home and frustrating to me that I can be so close to the action -- just across the river at least -- and have very little idea of what's going on. Even passing through Tahrir underground, in the metro station, there are no signs of the chaos above. Early in the week, it was even unclear to me what people were protesting about, because one regional and national crisis flowed into the next. First was Gaza, which enraged Egyptians, not surprisingly. In cyberspace, Egyptians used "we" to talk about Gazans standing up to Israel. "Share hope, we need no sympathy!" wrote one friend on Facebook. Then, even before Morsi had stepped in to negotiate the Gaza ceasefire, another tragedy occurred. In Asyut, a school bus crashed into an oncoming train while trying to cross the tracks. Again there have been conflicting stories about what exactly went terribly wrong: it appears that the warning light system was broken and the watchman who was supposed to stop traffic was asleep on the job. The result was the death of 60 children. Immediately people called for the governor and transportation minister to resign for tolerating such gross negligence (regardless of whose fault the crash was). The government announced the sum it would pay to families of the deceased and injured children. People were outraged that it was so low. When the same was raised, many were still outraged that the government would put a price on the life of an Egyptian child at all. Especially, though, people were outraged that the Prime Minister was in Gaza and the government (as was explained to me) seemed to care so much more about the tragedy in Gaza than the tragedy at home in Egypt. Basically, many Egyptians were furious that a Gazan life seemed to have greater value to the government (for political reasons) than an Egyptian life. People sat on train tracks throughout Egypt in protest, and these protests bled into the streets. And these in turn bled into the commemoration of Mohamed Mahmoud.
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