Egypt’s Year of Revolution

A year ago, I wrote a blog called “An Unknown Egypt.” At the beginning of the revolution, no one had any idea what to expect, and while there was great hope for change, there was also great uncertainty about how and if it would come about.

The revolution was deemed successful on February 11, 2011, when Mubarak stepped down and the military took temporary control. Elections were promised and planned, and steps to begin rebuilding, from the convening of a committee on the constitution to a referendum on electoral laws, were implemented. In many aspects, the people felt their voices had been heard and their futures were guaranteed to be better in the months and years ahead.

What I heard and saw was the opposite: women’s voices, which led the revolutions across the region, including in Egypt, were largely silenced after the revolutions. An International Women’s Day march in Tahrir one month after Egypt was “liberated” revealed that the same men who were happy to stand alongside women in protest, to accept their assistance when wounded, their food when hungry, and their leadership when organizing demonstrations, refused to support women in their parallel quest for advancement, equality, and safety. Women were reportedly harassed—physically and verbally–as a result of their peaceful assembly. Following the revolution, the committee that was appointed to discuss and develop a new constitution completely excluded female representation. Reports of sexual violence and harassment against women were shared by national and international media, including accusations regarding “virginity tests” conducted by the military on innocent women, an act more degrading and indecent than the impurities these women were wrongfully accused of and for which many were punished.

In November, the first of three phases of parliamentary elections were held. At their conclusion in January, only 8 women—4 of  whom are from Islamist parties—were chosen out of 498 representatives, meaning women make up less than two percent of those elected. Furthermore, in line with the results seen in Tunis and Morocco, Islamist parties won the majority of seats, with the Muslim Brotherhood leading the elections at 47 percent. In total, Islamist parties won just over 70 percent of parliamentary seats, ensuring that they will have a pivotal role in the drafting of the new constitution. In the weeks leading up to the elections, comments made by representatives from these parties shared alarming perspectives on women’s inclusion, spreading concern that not only will women be excluded as leaders, but they stand to lose progress won under the previous regime.

The revolution promised so much to so many different groups of people. Images shared from the streets were of equality, dignity, support, and freedom. Together, men, women, and children of all classes and religious backgrounds came together against a common issue and were victorious. They stood together, chanted in unison, and knelt by each other’s sides in prayer every day and night until Mubarak stepped down. A year later, the same questions remain: who will make it through this year and how? The Egyptian people have asked for the most basic of needs to be met: for education, security, and freedom, for jobs that support their families, and laws that protect them from harm. While these needs remain unmet, we have seen other expectations satisfied. The Muslim Brotherhood and Salafis gained the majority of the votes and claimed a power that they’ve long been waiting to hold. They will be a major part of determining the next phase of Egypt, and in this way, their revolutions are progressing as planned.

However, it is not all darkness. The revolution ultimately provides proof of the power and will of the people. More than ever before, women’s organizations and activists are seeking linkage and organizing campaigns to enshrine women’s rights, peace, and security into the new Egypt. New constituencies are joining the movement, including youth, who were at the helm of the regional uprisings and now are involved in high-level meetings and discussions, offering strategic recommendations and analysis of on-the-ground issues. Meanwhile, there has been greater emphasis on the need to include our opponents in open dialogue to find areas of common ground upon which we can build partnership and agreement.

Today in Tahrir, it was this conviction and will that was on display. The Egyptian people—young and old, rich and poor, educated and not, in designer clothing and in ordinary garb—were together again, hugging and kissing as they recognized their neighbors and friends from nights of camping out in protest a year ago. From a single family, an entire generation was on display, from grandmothers, to mothers, to their daughters and sons. Together in peaceful marches and demonstrations, Egyptians chanted, using the same words that they used at the very beginning of their revolution: anyone who thought we would leave, we are here. We are coming back to Tahrir to demand dignity and freedom. We are the youth of 25 of December.

Egyptians are among the most unique people in the world because they love their country and there is nothing that they wouldn’t do for it. People do not want to flee, but they want to make it here and have realized their part.  And every time they see their revolution has been derailed, they will return to Tahrir and voice their demands again. Again and again, until they are not only heard, but listened to.

In Tahrir Square tonight, I was standing next to a friend from Bahrain, both of us outsiders looking in. We both thought of our own countries and of the people before us, moved by their conviction and their energy, by their resilience and relentlessness. We thought of how lucky Egyptians are to have the opportunity to chant and to hope for the future.

Some much remains unknown and unrealized in Egypt’s revolution, but one thing is for certain, Egypt’s most powerful resource is not oil or gold, but the pride, dignity, and commitment of its people. They have incredible, unshakeable hope for the future. They are fearless and powerful joined together. They believe in freedom and are optimistic, but they also share their anger over how they’ve been wronged. They seek change, because they love Egypt and are willing to fight to bring peace, freedom, and prosperity to their everyday lives.

The national treasure of Egypt is Egyptians. They will make sure that the revolution doesn’t end here. It has just begun.

Voices for a free and peaceful Libya

First and foremost, I must express my support and solidarity with the people of Libya. After months of violence and uncertainty, Gaddafi’s death has delivered the long-sought signal that his regime’s reign has ended, and with it, the many abuses that have been protested and mourned for decades.

Just last week, with this moment in sight, we began to answer the burgeoning question of what the post-Gaddafi landscape will look like and where women’s rights will fit in. From the perspective of the women’s movement, this question has long been on my mind and one we addressed two weeks ago at the launch of the Libyan Women’s Platform for Peace in Cairo. It was a historic moment for many reasons, not the least of which was the diversity and commanding presence of the women involved. The logistics were not easy to coordinate, and at times, the chances that Karama would be able to bring 40 Libyan women into Cairo seemed slim. In the end, we watched as they arrived in any way we could get them here: by bus, by plane, or some combination thereof.

As we greeted them, I was moved, inspired, and touched by their strength and dignity, and their determination and devotion to stability and peace in Libya. One would’ve never known they were coming from the midst of a war if not already aware of this fact. These women have proven their ability to transfer optimism and hope to the situation, and their belief in the power to transform a homeland that once seemed impossible to change or reform beyond the ill-directed, often abusive status quo. They reminded me of the women of Somalia, who in the midst of civil war, famine, and crisis have always demonstrated dignity and grace.

During the meeting, I witnessed the power and strength of these women as leaders and visionaries as I listened to the voices of the Libyan women. These women have already begun building coalitions. They know the concerns and priorities in the post-Gaddafi landscape, and are experts in their own cause. They have identified the solutions that will be most effective in addressing core concerns, and in ensuring that women are a key part of the next chapter in Libya’s history. The Platform for Peace is a first step in coordinating these ideas and commitments, in linking Libyan women from all walks of life, from different parts of Libya and different backgrounds, and building a lasting movement that will ensure that the efforts they’ve put forth for years leading to the first day of the revolution, and the courageous sacrifices they’ve made since, are meaningful and significant in forging a new landscape for Libyans and for women in defining a more open, free, and peaceful Libya.

I have worked in many countries, with many women. The Libyans are among the most unique women I have ever met or worked with in my life. Their fierce bravery, and commitment, their persistence and insistence in ensuring that everyone is included and represented demonstrate democracy at its best in a country that has never known democracy. This leads me to believe that after over four decades of being deprived of human rights and justice, the Libyans have been carrying these ideals and values in their hearts. These concepts have been ingrained in their culture from the beginning.

After the meeting, we continued meeting informally with the women in Cairo. Throughout the weekend, I was humbled by the way the Libyan women carried themselves knowing the difficult experiences they’d endured and overcome. Some had left loved ones behind and had no information whether they were lost or dead, some had been imprisoned for years or had family members who were jailed. Out time together culminated with optimistic, jubilantly sung songs of Libyan pride. Despite everything they are up against, they remain resilient and undeterred by the challenges that have befallen them and their communities, spurred on by their hope for the future of Libya. Today, I can only imagine the news on Gaddafi has propelled them even more to realize the plans they have set forth for a free and equal nation in which they have a voice that is not only valued but also protected.

Women’s right to choose: Abortions to help circumvent honor violence

Excerpt from Women News Network article “Egypt: Secret Abortions help women circumvent honor violence” follows below:

The 2010 Egyptian Parliament, approved an article of a draft law on the issue where it legalizes sterilization and abortions by a specialized gynecologist for married women who face “difficult living conditions.” The new article permits such procedures in the case of fetal malformations or a risk of malformation due to the mother’s age or health history.

The draft law was met with heavy opposition, especially from religious leaders.
“This law is in-Islamic because it is considered an intervention in God’s will,” Souad Saleh, professor of Islamic Jurisprudence at al-Azhar University, told Al Arabiya news in March 2010. “This should not be done unless it is absolutely urgent.”

Egypt’s Dar Al Iftaa -the institution that states religious opinions and is respected and followed throughout the region- however, has supported medical abortions in the first trimester for decades, stating clearly on the Q&A section of its website that in case of medical necessity, “abortion is allowed to keep the mother’s life.“

“If the medical specialists determine that the pregnancy does pose risks to the mother – then in this case there is no harm in terminating the pregnancy after consulting a Muslim physician,” the website states.

“This is a question of a woman’s ability to choose how she wants to live her life and Islam gives that right according to most scholars’ interpretations. So, it is very disappointing that we see Islamic leaders come out against abortion,” said Hibaaq Osman, head of al-Karama Organization for Women’s Rights in Cairo.
With a 2011/2012 government that is in transition, women’s groups inside Egypt are asking that rights for women be clearly included into Egypt’s permanent constitution.

“It is the right of a woman to not have someone else, mainly men, tell her how to live and do things in her life. Fundamental to women’s rights, and this is the case in the situation of abortion in Egypt and around the Middle East, is the freedom to choose how one wants to live. Women deserve this and this is why when parliament looked at abortion it was refreshing to get a more equitable approach beginning to take form,” Osman added.

For the full article, please visit Women News Network online.

After Norway: Women’s Voices for the Way Forward

Today Women without Borders released an article on its site featuring the voices and perspectives of its Sisters Against Violent Extremism (SAVE) board on the recent, tragic events in Norway. As a member of the board, Karama Chair Hibaaq Osman shared the following statement against hatred and extremism:

This tragedy has touched me in a very personal way. I have children the same age and I send them to camps and just to think that these kids were shot at close range is despicable. The Islamophobia in Europe and the US has been of the utmost concern to us, politically and otherwise, and this tragedy should be blamed on all the political parties, media, bloggers and radio programs that are encouraging these right wing groups and campaigning on this issue. The hatred is now focused on the Muslims but soon it could be on everyone who looks different and thinks different. We should fight together against terrorism, racism and extremism by remembering and taking to heart Pastor Martin Niemöller’s courageous words:

First they came for the communists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a Jew.

Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.

To read the complete article, please visit the Women without Borders site.

Celebrating the Sacrifices made by Women

I joined hundreds of Egyptian women in Tahrir Square to honor the sacrifices of Sally Zahran, Mina Naggy, Mariam Nazier. These three martyrs of the January 25 revolution, whose blood stains still bless the square, gave their lives for the freedom of all Egyptians – and no one will ever take that away.

The agenda today was not to protest, but to celebrate the sacrifices women have made in the revolution. It was for Egyptian women to challenge the new government to live up to the ideals of democracy and human rights by honoring and respecting the universal rights of women, in their homes, streets, workplaces, and under equal protection of Egyptian law. In Cairo, Alexandria, Assiut and all around Egypt, women were there side by side with the men, and if women are left behind, we will not have a true revolution, but a reversal of rights for all.

As Egyptian and international media have reported, this peaceful demonstration was marred by the disgraceful and violent actions of organized thugs. These men ripped our signs, shouted vulgarity, menaced us and surrounded and beat some peaceful demonstrators. At the moment, it is unclear what group or groups organized these actions. What is clear, is that today’s women’s day must be a wakeup call for the women’s movement and female political leaders in Egypt and around the region.

While Egyptians have accomplished much in the last month, we know now that some powerful groups will do whatever they can to maintain the unacceptable status quo and enforce their agenda of eliminating women from the political, economic and social scene. These groups are waiting for the chance to put women in their place, which is no place.
We learned a lot from today. We learned that women’s movements need to be vigilant, mobilize even greater numbers, and finally, we learned that women’s groups need better security provisions when operating in public. Women need a safe space to voice their opinions, assemble and chart their political future.

It’s a new dawn in Egypt. Giving birth to a new democracy is complex and difficult for the society at large. Being the front, center, and backbone of the society, women are politically engaged to support the democratization process, to prepare the society at large, and make sure the constitution has laws that promote and protect women. Women’s rights are a test for universal rights, yet women’s rights are usually the first ones to be challenged and negotiated out. Loss of women’s rights would be loss of everyone’s rights and hurt chances for democracy.

It will be a non-stop marathon of persistence, insistence and pressuring by working closely with youth and political parties to build strong constituencies for freedom, social justice, and human rights in dignity, preparing society for the democratic process, training women, and raising awareness about the constitutional amendments.

Women’s rights are not a luxury to be bargained away, and they are not free. The martyrs of the revolution taught us this. And we must continue and complete their struggle.

The Night Belongs to Egypt

In our work at Karama, we have always upheld that movements are first and foremost about the will of the people. Without them, there is no movement, no momentum, and certainly no potential for revolution—the great sweeping changes we require to make a lasting, sustainable impact. We’ve tried to engage community members in the mechanisms to target violence and discrimination against women with the understanding that societies and countries are made up of thousands of individuals with shared needs, concerns, and priorities, with unique and powerful voices that are required to build the infrastructure upon which change can take place.

In Tahrir Square yesterday, on the 17^th day of gathering, thousands waited for a rumored speech that would include Mubarak’s resignation. The spirit of the people in the square was one of celebration and euphoria, of victory, of restored hope, and of relief that after long, exhausting days, several of which included situations of danger and violence, they would see their demands met and voices heard. Their reasons were many, but their main request was simple and singular: Mubarak and his regime must go.

In the minutes leading up to his speech, I swelled with emotion to the point where I felt congested with pride, excitement, and fear alike. What’s happening here in Egypt marks one of the most revolutionary events in history. I felt on the brink of such a pivotal moment that I could not keep myself from getting swept up in the emotion of the people. Still, there was confusion: what would happen next? For moments, I thought Mubarak would step down and we’d be in the situation of being taken over by the army, whether by a hand-off of power or a coup.

When Mubarak took to his podium, as he had days before, no one knew what he would say exactly. As soon as he began, sharing that he would make sure that no one in the square or beyond had died in vain, I knew that the moment the people hoped for would not come that day. He promised to fulfill his commitment to the people, but failed to comply with their main wish. The aftermath marked a transition from hope and restored faith to an environment of great frustration, anger, and despair. People in the square pledged that they would do anything to see him step down, that his speech was insulting and misleading, that they had not fought for 17 days for continued inaction and promises for reforms in the next 7 months that have not been met for the past 30 years.

At that moment, I did not know how to react. My sense of exultation and pride was marred by Mubarak’s refusal to give in. While I battled these emotions, I watched the people do what they’ve been doing best: demonstrating resilience and resolve. They said that it was as if Mubarak did not speak at all and went on to plan their next move. They are persistent and resilient and full of conviction. They believed they could bring about reform, and were willing to stay in the streets in protest for as many days as it took. Last night, the Egyptian people marched toward Mubarak’s palace with no intention of violence, only to elevate their position: they would not go until he did.

Today, their sense of hope and elation returned as Vice-President Suleiman announced that Hosni Mubarak has left Cairo and in fact, stepped down. Cries of “Egypt is free!” filled the street amongst sporadic fireworks and cheers. The people are full of joy and happy to leave the next step until tomorrow.

The amount of pride I feel to be among the people of Egypt at this hour is indescribable. As friends have shared, I am blessed with a front row seat as history unfolds. These are ordinary people with ordinary needs. Their desire for reform did not stem from a hunger for wealth or power, but for better education, improved prospects of employment, wages that cover their basic needs, democracy and the right to choose and change leadership, and the right to feel safe and free in speaking to the government about their future. And above all, dignity.

The people leading this revolution are not professional movement-builders. They have not taken courses in leadership or participated in political campaigns. They are simply individuals who reflected on the situation of their own lives and linked their dissatisfaction with external issues they felt they could affect and change. In each other, they recognized the same unmet desires: for better education, for improved job opportunities and better wages, and for the ability to care for their families without daily struggle and stress.

This is not a revolution on foreign policy. No one has burned anyone’s flags. This is an uprising begun by Egyptians for Egyptians. Men, women, Christians, Muslims, young, old, housewives, businesswomen, and men standing all together for the same reason, with the same demands, reciting the same chants. Stereotypes that have prevailed in the past have been broken down and people of all backgrounds have come together, unifying their voices and caring for each other day in and day out.  Inspirational and moving images of solidarity filled the street: the Islamic crescent and cross being carried together, the poor and people with designer bags standing hand in hand. This is a moment I am happy to have lived to see. A true community formed during the past 2 ½ weeks in Tahrir and beyond: people sharing food with each other, bringing blankets and medicine for each other, doctors treating people on a voluntary basis. I think of the cliché “It takes a village to raise a child” and I think of how it applies to Egypt; it truly takes a country to bring transformation.

Beyond politics, government, or ideology, there has been intensity of emotions carrying the people of Egypt. Their anger, frustration, and jubilation has imbued them with courage and determination, kept them in the Square day after day, despite nights spent sleeping under tanks, their heads resting besides the tracks. Throughout it all, despite the strength of their feelings, they have remained civilized, organized, and polite, emblems of 7,000 years of Egypt’s great legacy in its people.

More than anything, the scene we have been witnessing for the last couple weeks has been about the power and resilience of humanity. Nothing has discouraged the will of the people. The most remarkable aspect of this will has been its ability to break down the wall of fear. In the absence of this fear, the Egyptian people gained only more strength and resolve. They are ready, carrying white sheets above their heads, sharing that they have seen death and destruction and still, will not waiver, even if it costs their own lives. No matter what, each day, people kept moving toward the Square, raising their voices louder and louder.

I don’t know what is next for Egypt, but I cannot help but recall now a commercial I was fond of when studying in the States years ago that spoke about income and wealth. The lead pronounced, “I did it the old fashioned way. I earned it.” As did the people of Egypt. This is how revolutions are supposed to happen—naturally, and through the commitment of those that make up a community, a society, a nation. History continues to unfold around us; we continue to be in awe and shock of how quickly Egypt has changed and how the will of thousands has translated into a groundbreaking movement composed of millions.

What I’ve learned from this display, as I have from revolutions in the past, is that the true movements, the ones that bring sweeping reforms and completely repaint the landscape happen naturally. Movements must be built organically from the spirit and desires of the people. People ultimately must take ownership of their own lives. They must feel empowered that in linking with others, they can implement the steps to create the new economic, political, and social landscape they envision and that will so integrally affect their futures.

In many ways, this movement was ignited by young activists like Wael Ghonim, who understood the sentiment of so many young Egyptians who find themselves tired and frustrated with the status quo, and knew how to leverage social media to bring the people together in protest. A couple days ago, when Wael Ghonim returned to Tahrir Square, the world watched how people related to him. He could’ve had a life of luxury in Dubai, but he came to Cairo because he wanted to make a difference. The people responded to his call, because they too felt acutely the responsibility to take control of their futures and engage authorities in this ultimate challenge. But it was not just Wael, there were other courageous individuals, as well, who issued a call to action, for instance, Aasmaa Mahfouz, the 26-year-old activist whose YouTube video was forwarded by many Egyptians and became a direct call to action in Tahrir on January 25.

There are so many negative stories that come out of the Middle East or are written about situations here. All of the “isms” make for popular journalism and articles focus on the ugliest statistics, sharing stories of extremism and terrorism, conflict and crisis, and abuse. But today, we share with the world that there is so much more to the people of this region, sixty percent of who is under thirty years old. Foreign policy did not play a role in the events of this past month. Wael Ghonim and other young men and women like him were galvanized by a cause and a mission, and pulled together to take action on their own. This is solely a revolution for the people, by the people, and of the people.

Last night, there were tears, confusion, and heartbreak following Mubarak’s speech.  But tonight, there is only celebration. People are elated and proud of what they have been able to achieve. They are the real leaders of this movement. Every single Egyptian is responsible for this. Peaceful in protest, today they are triumphant.

Egyptians have built the pyramids and the Great Sphinx, and claim the great Nile that tourists flock to visit. Egyptian novelists are world-renown and noted as the first Arabic-language writers to be awarded the Nobel Prize in literature. The legacy of culture, of dignity, and of revolution is one that has always been with Egypt and its people, and now, we can claim another great wonder of Egypt and the world: the unified voice of the people.

For the first time in my life, Tahrir is where I found the freedom to sing and dance in the middle of hundreds of thousands of people, enjoying the rhythm of the lyrics, “Hold your head up because you’re Egyptian.

In times of crisis, women and men are equal

Today, the call for a million people in Tahrir Square and its surrounding areas was met twicefold, and in other areas of Egypt, many came out as well, demanding to see Mubarak step down. Mubarak shared that he did not intend to run again, but he did not intend to step down immediately either, wishing to remain until the next election, when a new leadership could be chosen democratically and in peace.

Prior to the march, there was great tension for Egypt. I watched and wondered from inside my home how things would escalate if the people remained dissatisfied with the President’s answer. There is a new development each day that threatens to shift the balance. Today’s mood transitioned quickly from steadfast determination and hope to renewed anger when many of those gathered in the Square rejected Mubarak’s words, throwing shoes as if at him, an act of great insult in the Arab world.

This is the eighth day of protests in Cairo and I continue to hear gunshots, a sound that will never cease to shock me when I think of how peaceful and safe Cairo has felt the entirety of my time here. I remain on alert and full of hope that the changes that are needed will be brought about peacefully and that further damage—in terms of safety, violence, the economy, and our infrastructure—is prevented. However, I cannot help but be proud of one scene in particular. Amidst the chaos that has occurred, we have seen people of all backgrounds, religions, and occupations come together.  But more than this, we have watched as men and women dissolved the gender barrier that has long been held between them.

Since the beginning of this protest, women have acted alongside men to ask for change. The diversity of images that have come across my television have included: grandmothers kissing the cheeks of soldiers and sanctioning the work of the young, the rich mobilizing alongside the poor, those who are religiously conservative engaging those who are not, Christians and Muslims protecting one and another, women who are covered and women who do not wear scarves, those wearing jeans and those in more traditional dress. All other barriers that had segregated members of society have fallen away, and so too, in this time of uncertainty and crisis, we have seen the gender barrier dissolve.

In its place, we see women and men working together to organize demonstrations, to raise their voices and make them heard, to keep others safe, to inspire continued determination and resolve. Each day, they pray alongside each other when it is time, bowing their heads in unison. In the place of discrimination and violence that had run rampant, there has been acknowledgment of the complications, criticisms, and demands that bring Egyptians together. Above all, these men and women represent the voice of a movement, one in which gender disparity has no known role, and one which is tasked with too much to risk loss of the participation of women.

I am very happy to witness this moment of history and am filled with hope when I see the images of the streets: men and women are participating together in every way. Jammed should-to-shoulder, men and women from every area of life—farmers, teachers, university students and graduates, activists, grandmothers and grandfathers, business people, working class, the elite—have been unified by their commitment to Egypt’s reform and development of new economic opportunities and a better life overall for its people.

This image, despite the inherent volatility and tension it is laced with, has demonstrated that when push comes to shove, men see women as essential and count them as their equals. In crisis situations throughout history within and outside of the region, women have always been the backbone of revolution. Men and women have equal power implicit in their voices, in their ability and right to demonstrate and ask their government to hear them. In moments of intensity, confusion, and celebration, gender is not a divider at all.

It is strangely only in times of peace that disparity is exacerbated, delivering power for men and stripping women of their diginity and basic human rights. Men absolutely know that women are equal; however, like members of an opposing political party, they appear to use strategic methods of diversion and dilution to make women seem less competent, less dignified, less intelligent, less strong, less educated. It is an approach that they use to empower themselves, to bring women down so they can win some sort of victory over them politically, economically, and wherever else they feel it counts.

 

It brings up the question, do we need crisis to foster equality? Women are always on the forefront of liberation with men. Together, individuals of both genders have a better chance of delivering what they desire. There is no reason to divide this power at times when it is not considered to be crucial or needed. In the square today, we saw what the people could do when working together. Imagine what could be accomplished every day, when working at businesses or at shelters or at schools. There is so much potential that is being wasted in times of peace. How can we make the gender situation disappear in those times as well?

I hope we will start by educating our kids about history. The latest events illuminate why women and men need to stand together. They accomplish more as each other’s protectors, advocates, educators, friends, and admirers than they can as each other’s adversaries. The political landscape of Egypt continues to be uncertain and so much remains to be negotiated. I cannot tell if things will escalate further or will begin to grow calm. I don’t know what will be enough, how far either side will have to go to reach an agreement. However, I am certain that there are a lot of changes that must be made to improve the lives of Egyptians. But I do not believe it is the core belief in women. This is unshakable, and in the demonstrations that continue to go on, it is my greatest sign of hope.

 

An Unknown Egypt

Our lives have shifted so quickly here in Egypt; I never imagined that Cairo would be like this. I have been in my house since Thursday, the doors and windows locked, blinds fully shut, lights down low, so that no one can see them from the street. I have not been into the office. I have barely been able to communicate with those that I am used to being in touch with daily, thankful for a working landline, and cellphones that have finally been turned back on, though there is news they will soon be disabled again. Yesterday, the jets and helicopters began flying overhead, and that is a sound that we hear most prominently. They are flying very low, and the whole scene is so surreal. Despite all this, the masses remain undeterred and full of resolve.

Cairo has always been very safe. We could enter the streets at 4 a.m. and be free of fear. The scariest part of this situation has been the criminals who are running rampant in our streets and neighborhoods, which were largely abandoned by members of the police force at the end of last week. A handful of prisons have been emptied, and now, residents live in fear of looters. Shops, buildings, and homes have been set on fire and stolen from as residents and vigilante groups watch over the properties with sticks, trying to deter further destruction and crime. For those of us who are parents, such as myself, it is hardest to watch the children, especially the boys who are equally full of fear, but try their best not to show it.

My task over the past few days has been to protect my family and those staying with me. I have been scared and uncertain about what each tomorrow will bring, but have tried very hard to keep this internal anxiety from them, knowing that I need to reassure them now that we will soon see peace and stability return. However, I have no guarantee that this will be true, and worry each day about the worst possibilities. We spent the weekend hoping for a flight. Yesterday, I was relieved by the news that my children found seats on a flight to the U.S. As they left for the airport, I prayed that their route was safe, knowing that this risk was worth it, if they could make it to some place more stable.

What will happen in Cairo is so far unknown and impossible to predict. Tomorrow, one million people are supposed to march through the streets. The protesters want President Mubarak to go, but it doesn’t seem that he is going anywhere. The newly appointed Vice-President has stated today that he will begin engaging in talks with the opposition and working on real political reform. I am unsure if this will lead to compromise, or whether the people will continue to protest until Mubarak is gone.

The military has promised not to obstruct the demonstrations, nor will they open fire upon the people. Police troops have been coming back to the streets, and I hope that this will curb the crime and lawlessness that has arisen.

At home, I remain glued to the news. We are lucky to continue receiving coverage of the situation, though Al-Jazeera has struggled to continue broadcasting. A recent announcement shares that our cellphones will likely only work for a few hours more today, supposedly to deter tomorrow’s march from growing too large. Without the internet and any way to reach out, thousands of people are left without the ability to communicate. I panic at the thought of the TV going dark, as well, and being reduced to full isolation.

Nothing is clear, not the intentions of the newly appointed government members, not US Foreign Policy, not the future of Egypt or its people. This is the people’s power being demonstrated. No one is leading them, but as days go by, some leadership must come out of this and be part of the transition.

No matter what the issues at hand or the anger that is pervasively felt, we cannot continue to only demand Mubarak’s resignation. There has to be a dialogue and some sort of compromise has to begin developing. If there is no conversation, no exchange of perspectives and issues between the government, the army, and the people, the situation will really get out of hand. There is so much at stake and so much that can easily be lost for everyone.

In my work, I have always advocated for the role of women in politics and in shaping what decisions are made for the future. Women have taken a prominent role in the protests, and people have crossed social and cultural boundaries, such as religion and gender, to come together. I only hope their voices can engage the next step thoughtfully, peacefully, and with respect for all the complexities implicated by the reform of Egypt.

New Egyptian film, the first to speak candidly about sexual harassment, faces censorship

The current environment in Egypt has proven to be complicated over the last few months, and the latest report on women’s right is bittersweet, to say the least. A moment many women and activists have waited for has arrived: media has taken a bold step, releasing the first film in Egypt to deal explicitly with sexual harassment. The film, 678, shares the stories of three different women, each of whom is harassed heavily in public. One of the women portrayed is modeled after a real woman, Noha Roushdy, who won the first sexual harassment case in 2008.

Among a milieu of films that fail to reflect prevalent social issues for Egypt’s women, 678 provides a necessary discussion on the largely-ignored and urgent topic of sexual harassment. However, not only does this film arrive late in the game, after harassment has become so deeply entrenched (and many times, accepted) in Egyptian society and culture, but 678’s refreshingly candid approach to sharing the layers of complication regarding this behavior and the women victims involved is being taken down through a lawsuit which claims that the filmmakers and film’s cast are promoting violence against sexual harassers through the punitive actions portrayed in the film, including stabbing them in their private parts.

It is no coincidence that now that a film has finally taken on the problem of violence and discrimination against women in an authentic way, the Egyptian courts have immediately been engaged in efforts to censor it. The court is scheduled to discuss the lawsuit, brought by two lawyers, who also claim the film promotes behavior by women that is inconsistent with the mores of Egyptian society, on Wednesday. No such lawsuit exists for the immoral and depraved behavior of those men who have made Egyptian women feel embarrassed, withdrawn, vulnerable, unsafe, and less confident. In fact, much of the uproar stems from accusations that the film is insulting Egyptian men by suggesting that they are harassers.

However, the facts speak for themselves. A survey conducted by the Centre for Women’s Rights in 2008 shares that 83 percent of Egyptian women report experiencing a form of sexual harassment in their lifetimes, while 62 percent of Egyptian men admit to harassing women. Instead of waving a red flag at a film’s attempt to bring an obviously rampant problem to the forefront of discussion, the courts and society-at-large should be using this as an opportunity to ignite reform in this area.

Whether or not the lawsuit succeeds, the presence of a film like 678 provides hope for increased dialogue and awareness in the future. The problem of sexual harassment and related concerns for Egyptian women cannot be swept under the rug forever.

Igniting a revolution: TEDWomen & Dr. Hawa

I’ve often used this space to decry injustice and abuse, but as we approach the end of one year and the beginning of another, I realized that what would be most fitting to close out 2010 is a discussion of the individuals who address the darkest realities and transform them into stories of resilience and hope.

TEDWomen debuted just over a week ago, confirming to a global audience an already widespread truth: women have been generating great ideas, and as individuals, we have the capacity to revolutionize industries that promise a better world. At TEDWomen, the first-ever TED conference focused entirely on women, speakers illuminated the potential of women to change the status quo, whether through advocacy, technological innovation, strategic intervention, or leadership. As an audience of these talks, I was not only inspired, but I was impressed by the diversity of practical experiences shared as evidence that the theories presented were not only brilliant and innovative, but successful at producing the intended results.

In looking back at this week, I am reminded of so many awe-inspiring stories of women’s strength and fortitude. And more than anything, I’m reminded of the results they have effected. Somalia continues to be in the news with reports of ongoing conflict and its consequences. Women and girl refugees live in fear of sexual violence and abuse, and the displaced population continues to grow. Capacities to attend to the needs of these populations, from nutrition to financial support to healthcare, are limited, leaving many in situations of poverty.

Last week in DC, I was introduced through TEDWomen to a Somali ob-gyn, Dr. Hawa Abdi. A 63-year-old, Dr. Hawa was one of the few who remained behind after civil war broke out in Somalia in 1991. Having converted her small private practice into a charity hospital, Dr. Hawa runs a 400-bed hospital and shelters nearly 90,000 displaced persons at the facility. The 1300 acres of land surrounding it has grown into a large shelter area for refugees, whom she provides with drinking water, food—as she can secure it—and medical care. As the number of people in her care grew, Dr. Hawa sought multiple avenues to fill basic need gaps, including training formerly nomadic herding families to farm and fish as well as promoting girls education, through a school she started for 850 children. Dr. Hawa also promotes literacy and health for adults, through classes aimed at women.

All this was done in good faith and with great hope. Then, she was challenged in the worst way, her story resembling the story of so many others in Somalia who were faced with threats against the good work they were doing and forced to follow a regime that they did not agree with. Seven hundred and fifty soldiers attacked and seized Dr. Hawa’s hospital in May, killing several staffers, and disrupting food handouts and provision of medical care for thousands of refugees. However, outcry from Somalis at home and throughout the world—especially the refugees in her camp—eventually pushed the Hizb al-Islam party, who originally ordered her to hand over operations, to restore her position at the hospital. There were daily negotiations, and Dr. Hawa held her ground under threat of losing everything she had worked for, and also, her own life.

Eventually, the Hizb al-Islam party gave in, tired of fielding global criticism and pressure. It was reported that the party even issued an apology to Dr. Hawa. In the aftermath, Dr. Hawa has even more on her plate, now tasked with restoring a wrecked hospital, in addition to supporting over 6,000 Somali families who have been displaced from their communities and homes. However, in demonstration of her resilience, Dr. Hawa has already identified partnerships and avenues to secure funding for rebuilding her hospital.

Dr. Hawa is symbolic of the women and men TEDWomen elevates as role models for future prosperity, happiness, and health. She is a woman who has been imbued with courage and conviction. She is an innovator, a great thinker, a fighter—when she has to be—and above all, a woman who chooses to live with dignity and hope. Going forward into the New Year, I will remember my experience at TEDWomen as a confirmation not only that heroes do exist, but that one person can ignite a revolution.