When the popular masses took to the streets of Egypt their plight set in stone; innocent, fresh and purely motivated, their unadulterated fervour shook the world.
They would succeed come what may; their aim was to oust the oppressive regime that had reigned unchallenged for over three decades. Direction was simple: forward, onwards and upwards. All else seemed unimportant, premature and even unnecessary. Take-off was undaunted and without a safety net.
The uprising was purely driven, untainted; like a burst of effervescent bubbles that carried no baggage, no vengeance, no thought for bureaucratic weights nor identified solutions; in its very strength an embodied weakness, a helplessness.
The revolution that followed could not have had such national and moreover universal appeal had there been any sinister agenda on board. The deep-rooted and yet uncharted harmony of the people could not be thwarted; no organised parties could make their foreboding malevolent incentives filter through unnoticed. There would be time for that later, just as there had been before. They would bide their time.
For the new movement, as if protected by an invisible surrounding shield, it took days, nights, weeks and months of perseverance and nothing but the firmest resolve, hope for a brighter glimpse of an era to come, before the 'royal' mettle of presidential seat was finally cast off and molten. “Out with the old…”
Personal and shared dire hardship became defined starkly by poignant sacrifice of a few, those lying in the debris of the wake of a freedom aspired to.
… In with the new?
Dead leaves were shed and promising green shoots already present in the constitution and seemingly in tune with the changing tides, magnanimously repotted.
In effect, vacancies advertised and signed up for simultaneously.
The promise of a new era.
The youth groups, all abuzz, grabbed the vines and began swinging to and fro their bright ideas, some more grounded than others but all intrinsically laced with a tint of idealism; all in the hope of being embraced, adopted and securely planted. With every valiant swing, the potted verdancy becomes more and more discoloured; its innate corruption seeping through to the surface. With every attempt at reform, sterility encountered. Impenetrable veneer of regime, always backed by big ‘friendly’ biceps of a powerful deeply embedded army, loses no lustre.
Frantic attempts in all directions, some wishing and clinging onto past securities, others hoping for their brighter dawn to turn into daylight and inevitably those with their own parasols seeking to deviate and overshadow the lot and all the while, the inferior diseased flora digging its roots in deeper and deeper.
The coin of the revolution has been flipped, its momentum has dissipated. With every stark revelation of the regime's embezzlement and shameful conduct, its driving force of innocence unavoidably compromised.
Here today… Still here today.
