By IAN GALLAGHER
Last updated at 4:16 AM on 6th February 2011
Last updated at 4:16 AM on 6th February 2011
Sitting on an upturned bread basket with her knees pulled up to her chest, a petite young woman looked out over Tahrir Square early yesterday morning and weighed up whether she should stay or leave.
Gabrielle, 25, is a French-Egyptian property lawyer, one of the thousands of young protesters who have remained at the focal point of Egypt’s uprising since it began 13 days ago. Exhausted, she yearns to return to the comfortable home she shares with her younger sisters and anxious parents – also lawyers – in the upmarket Cairo suburb of Heliopolis ten miles away. She dreamt last night of a hot bath and fresh clothes.
Laughing wearily, she says: ‘See, I am the colours of the Egyptian flag.’ She points to her black jeans, white shirt – and the blood on her sleeve.
War zone: But protesters say they now feel safer in Cairo's Tahrir Square than on the many streets where pro-government militia roam free
‘It’s not mine,’ she says, almost apologetically. ‘My friend, a student doctor, was cut above the eye by a rock the other day.
‘Of course my family are worried – my father rings every hour to check I am OK. And it would be a lie to say that I enjoy being dressed like this. I’m a woman, and fussy about clothes! I’ve been out of the square only twice, and only briefly, since this began so it hasn’t been easy. At the same time I don’t want to let my friends down, and I want to stay until Mubarak leaves.
‘I am also worried about being arrested if I leave. Already we have heard stories about activists who have left being rounded up. They have our names from Facebook postings and Twitter. Some have not been heard of since.’
Gabrielle’s dilemma is shared by many others whose activism, both online and on the streets, has brought them to the attention of the state security police.
While other protesters arrive and leave freely, thousands like Gabrielle – well-educated, middle-class idealistic young Egyptians who used social networking sites to ignite this protest – are beginning to feel trapped. Some say they are fighting for their lives, though they have thus far protested peacefully.
Extraordinary scenes: An Egyptian anti-government protestor prays next to an army tank in Cairo
Movement: A protester at the Egyptian embassy in Beirut (left) and an injured activist in Egypt talks on his mobile in Tahrir Square
Tension: Army officers and other soldiers attempt to break through the barrier on the edge of Tahrir Square
Vast numbers of students, medics, engineers and professionals filled the square yesterday and have done so since what they call their ‘revolution without leaders’ began.
What is immediately noticeable about many of the protesters is their faultless English. It is largely due to the fact that the Egyptian middle classes are educated to a high standard.
They also have an insatiable thirst for British and American films and TV sitcoms, and European music – and an intuitive understanding of Western culture.
That they are passionate and impatient for change, there is no doubt. But they are sensible and thoughtful too, and they carry themselves with a dignity that is greatly at odds with the images of rage-filled Arab demonstrators screaming from TV screens around the globe.
It is a measure of the dizzying turn of events in Cairo that Tahrir Square, which has witnessed rubber bullets, live bullets, petrol bombs and tear gas, is now considered by these young people to be a place of relative safety.
In the surrounding streets, and elsewhere in the capital, gangs of iron bar-wielding Mubarak loyalists lurk listlessly at roadblocks. Bloggers and opposition leaders have been dragged from their homes and beaten up. Journalists, too, have been targeted.
Stalemate: Protesters are still queuing to get into Tahrir Square which is now tightly controlled by barricades
Keeping the peace: A solider protects a pro-Mubarak protester from those opposing the government
But cocooned by a security cordon manned by the military, the protesters inside the square are now less fearful of attack. A calmer mood prevails. Even those who stood at barricades repelling the president’s supporters with rocks and petrol bombs only a few days ago, sang protest songs accompanied by guitarists yesterday.
These anti-Government protesters make up a rather different faction. They share the same goal as Gabrielle and her friends but are drawn mainly from the ranks of the poorer classes and unemployed and, while they were quiet yesterday, are quick to engage in fighting to protect the square.
In the past two days, there has also been a notable increase in the number of Islamists among the crowds. A small number are said to be extremists and there have been several reports that some, thought to be allied to the main opposition group, the largely moderate Muslim Brotherhood, were carrying guns, looted from police stations when the unrest began.
‘Those supporting the Brotherhood tend to stay together – not mixing with us – and gather in shop doorways to sleep,’ said Gabrielle. ‘We have no problem with them. Everyone stands together. I have heard the reports about guns and that is worrying, though.’
Gabrielle herself sleeps on a rubber mat and shares a tent with a friend in an encampment in a far corner of the square.
‘We were moved into the middle of this camp for our protection, because we are women.’ She adds: ‘It gets scary when we hear gunfire. It is something that I just can’t get used to. You never know if it is close by.
Body armour: Soldiers from the riot control squad are now placed around the edges of the square
Comfort: Anti-Mubarak activists put a blanket over a young man shaking as he gets medical attention at an outdoor clinic
‘Until this week the thought of hearing so much gunfire in downturn Cairo was unthinkable, as unthinkable as in London. Imagine gunfire every night in Trafalgar Square.’
Buckets of water for washing are scarce, though Gabrielle insists ‘no one makes a fuss’. ‘It is a problem of course but the people who are camping around us help each other and we share whatever we have,’ she says.
‘That goes for food too. We exist mainly on flatbread made with seeds and maize. But sometimes there are kebabs and falafel and soup.’
The area around the Army checkpoints is littered with rubble, broken glass and rocks.
Avoiding the watching soldiers, a group of men stood guarding a wooden box full of petrol bombs yesterday.
Western journalists are greeted with happy smiles, handshakes and kisses. Protesters are keen to show how slickly organised their campaign has become. And perhaps their warmth is also partly due to concern at what will happen if world interest wanes.
Yesterday streams of volunteers arriving with food supplies were hastily ushered to the front of the queue at the military checkpoint near the Qasr El Nile Bridge. Soldiers appeared eager to help them.
Inside the square, there are stalls serving tea and makeshift clinics, an expensive public-address system, internet access, and even a place to charge mobile phones.
A travel agency office is used to ‘process’ captured Mubarak loyalists. Behind closed doors they are thoroughly searched – some are said to endure worse. They are then led to a makeshift ‘prison’ – the barricaded steps leading down to the Sadat metro station – and are later escorted away by soldiers.
Fury: A man screams at protesters in front of his business on the edge of the square which has now been occupied for 12 days
It is a reminder that danger – despite the military’s protection and a lull in violent clashes – is never far away, particularly when darkness falls.
Friday morning brought news that three men camped out in the square had been shot dead. There was more gunfire in the early hours of Saturday in the streets around the square but no reports of injuries.
Former BBC Spooks actor Khalid Abdalla, who has camped in Tahrir Square since the start of the protest, spoke of a botched attempt by pro-Mubarak thugs to enter the square as the activists slept early yesterday.
Mr Abdalla, a Cambridge-educated British-Egyptian, who also starred in the film The Kite Runner, described seeing ‘a man die in front of me’ during clashes last week.
‘I filmed it on my iPhone,’ he said. ‘Too much blood has been shed. But the fight for noble ideals will continue.’
Elsewhere in the square, there was earnest discussion among the young activists about what the future holds – and whether to storm the offices of the state television station, which they blame for spreading lies.
If you believe Mubarak’s senior party members – few do, of course – there is a ‘silent majority’ of millions who want him to cling to power. Even his opponents admit some Egyptians have a sentimental attachment to Mubarak and speak of a ‘slave mentality’.
Certainly there is much support for the president among the country’s businessmen, some of whom stand accused of paying poor Egyptians to carry out acts of violence against protesters.
And many who work in the lifeblood tourism industry have also pledged their allegiance to the regime. With businesses and banks closing, the economy has lost nearly £2 billion due to the crisis – and there has been an exodus of holidaymakers in the middle of the peak season.
Back at the square yesterday, the protest continued. As I made my way to the checkpoint to leave, I saw Gabrielle deep in discussion with friends.
‘Hey, I want to tell you that I’ve made my mind up,’ she said. ‘I’ve decided to stay. Let’s hope Mubarak does the opposite.’
She was smiling, but there were tears in her eyes.
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1354096/Egypt-protests-Police-use-Facebook-Twitter-track-protesters.html#ixzz1DAqnwUSB
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