The violence and frenzy of protest in Egypt's capital have given way to an expectant calm, writes MICHAEL JANSEN
EGYPTIANS OF all classes, ages, and political persuasions flowed peacefully into Tahrir Square yesterday to celebrate the “day of departure” of President Hosni Mubarak. They walked confidently and without fear.
The army had deployed two armoured personnel carriers and a tank across the carriageway on Qasr al-Nil Bridge where smiling soldiers searched pro-democracy demonstrators for weapons before they lined up to enter the square.
Men and women, small children, teenagers, babes in arms, a blind man led by a relative and family parties of three generations came walking, some from distant districts of the capital. Four rows of cheerful people assembled and advanced slowly across the bridge, from the western to the eastern banks of the sluggish, brown Nile.
The people were calm, patient and cheerful. Many made the thumbs up gesture or the “v” for victory sign. “We’re lining up for freedom,” said Hilmy, an architect. “We need change. We can’t go on like this. Look at the streets – broken pavements and filled with garbage. We’re educated people. We can fix these problems. We don’t have a chance under this regime.” His nephew, Ahmad, a university student, joked, “This is the first time I see Egyptians lining up properly. It’s a real revolution.”
A man at the front of the throng waved my colleague and me through the narrow passage between the pressing crowd and coils of razor-wire laid alongside another tank barrier. As we made our way, men waiting patiently to go through security warned, “Be careful, be careful.”
Our identity cards and bags were checked by two groups of women volunteers before we reached the packed square, transformed since our visit on Thursday. Gone were piles of broken paving stones, gone defenders’ staves. The atmosphere in the square, as on the bridge, was cheerful, relaxed. Soldiers in flack jackets and helmets, rifles slung on straps over their shoulders, were on the job, ready to protect protesters from the mobs of Mubarak loyalists who had tried to seize control of the iconic square on Wednesday night.
“When he departs, we will depart Tahrir,” chanted a wedge of men as they marched towards the entrance, wheeled, and took up a new chant, “Our press lies, our press lies.”
A well-dressed young woman in a headscarf explained, “Our media says we are only a few people here, that we are poor people paid to come here. That’s not true. You can see we are not all poor. We have jobs, we drive cars. The poor are not paid to come. They come because they want change. We all want change.”
On the porch of a small mosque on the Garden City side of the square, children slept on blankets, women washed their hands and faces in bottled water, and three young men sat against a wall awaiting developments. Khaled, an agricultural engineer, had been coming to the square for 10 days; Wael, a computer technician, for three.
“Today he will go and we will go home, inshallah [God willing],” said Wael. Muhammad, an accountant, joined in, “When he leaves, we will have a big party. Then we’ll clean the square and leave.”
A woman in a headscarf and cloak who took my arm said in English, “My name Nimeh. Mubarak bad. Mubarak go.” She switched to Arabic, “You see these children, they have no future if he stays. This is why we are here. We want a future, we want to live.”
We slipped through the tight space in the barrier at the exit, skirted coils of razor-wire laid by the army, and paused to chat with a white-coated doctor at a first aid station manned by volunteers.
“We haven’t had any wounded since the battle on Wednesday night,” he said. “But we’re ready for casualties.”
The UN put fatalities, so far, at 300, and injured at more than 5,000. Soldiers let us carry on to the back of the Semiramis Hotel where health ministry ambulances had parked, ready for trouble.
As we made our way to Zamalek across the bridge, Egyptians waiting to go to the square called out, “You’re going the wrong way.”
Tahrir Square: the significance
TAHRIR (LIBERATION) Square is a key site for the protesters to hold. It was an important psychological objective for the Egyptian military when it ousted the British-backed monarch in 1952 and ushered in the republic.
At Tahrir, President Gamal Abdel Nasser, still beloved by many Egyptians, delivered his most famous addresses to the people. They came to demand he stay in office after the Arab defeat by Israel in the 1967 war. A year later they came to call for his resignation; in 1970 to mourn his death.
In 1977, Egyptians swarmed into Tahrir to stage bread riots against the government of Anwar Sadat who was assassinated in 1981. His successor was Hosni Mubarak.