Friday, May 25, 2012

The Long Game

So we've all woken up to what, instinctively, feels like a worst-case scenario. 

But here are some positives: 

7 million people voted for radical economic change. 7 million people were mobilised without a serious institutional machine pushing them into the polling stations. The Brotherhood have impressed with their continued ability to mobilise and it seems clear that the combined 1.3 million people employed by the Army and the Security Services have been encouraged to vote for Shafiq. 

13 million people don't see religion as the cure for political problems. 

Turnout was down at around 40% from 54% for the parliamentary elections. That's a whole lot of people that, in just 6 months, realised that parliamentary politics is not going to be what delivers the change they need. 

It feels like a loss that Sabahi and Abouel Fotouh were unable to combine. But it wasn't a total disaster. Had they been able to form a coalition yes, they would have won. And political space would have really opened up. But maybe the chance for a really radical change would have passed. 

Elections are deeply flawed and party politics is never able to deliver real change. Nor is it meant to. At least now we don't have the illusion of a messiah to grapple with. 

If Shafiq wins he will, as SCAF's puppet be unable to run the country. Much as SCAF themselves have found themselves unable to. And, unlike Mubarak, who projected an image of strength and built a personality cult around himself - Shafiq has neither the gravitas nor the time to carry the inevitable anger of nation alone. When people next erupt the apparatus behind and around him will be in the firing line. 

Meanwhile, he will be crippled by an uncooperative parliament and the Army and Brotherhood will be unable to find a way to work together. 

Likewise with Morsi as President. If they control both Parliament and the Presidency the Brotherhood will be in a serious position to challenge the Army's grip over the country's resources and economy. We will have four years of fight between them and, though the Brotherhood won't be able to deal a fatal blow, will seriously loosen the Army's grip. 

Meanwhile, in both these scenarios the Revolution lies in the hands of the Revolutionaries. The Revolution's job is to pressure the fault lines between those in power, to maintain the core narrative of the Aims of the Revolution ('bread, freedom, social justice'. [Note, it's 'freedom', not 'democracy']) and to provide alternatives. The Revolution has provided countless alternative governance structures on smaller, local scales - some with earth-shaking consequences (Tahrir Sq) - but the challenge is continuing to build ideas that can one day be applied on a national or regional level. 

The problem at that point, of course, lies in the idea of the nation state. But let's deal with that later…

In short, as long as we are willing to work we have lots to be grateful for. In America you get two choices. And they're both religio-miltaristic warmongers. Same in the UK. In Egypt, at least the guns and the prayers are still separated for now. And, given the history the Army and the MB have, are unlikely to combine anytime soon. Eventually, they will turn on each other. But first, they'll want to crush the revolution. 

The coming months are dangerous. The coming days are depressing. But let's remember the long game. We don't want a charming president and a functional parliament. We want to change the world. 





Tuesday, May 15, 2012

حول العودة من غزة


الرجوع إلى القاهرة من غزة تجربة غريبة وصعبة. لمدة خمسة أيام، عشنا - نحن مجموعة الأدباء والفنانين العرب الذين كنا "احتفالية فلسطين للأدب" - في غزة. والآن غادرنا. 

الأضواء، الضجيج، السيارات؛ القاهرةالفروقات الشاسعة عبر المسافة القريبة. 

غزة، جارتنا، شقيقتنا: كم نحن قريبون، وكم تكافح الآن، وحدها.

لكن غزة لم تهزم. 

سراييفو تختال بعلامات الحرب فيها: تؤطر وتبرز دروس التاريخ للأجيال القادمة. بيروت تغطي علاماتها بالمساحيق والمولات - تختار أن تنسى، أن تعيش لليوم. نيويورك تدفع بنفسها في السماء، تنغرس فيها، تتحدى المستقبل. أما غزة فتعيد البناء، وتعيد البناء، وتعيد البناء. كل ما لديها تستعمله - فقط لتظل باقية. ليس بمقدورها أن ترسخ تاريخها ولا أن تؤَمِّن مستقبلها. تعيش بحسم في الحاضر: تعيد البناء، وتعيد البناء، وتقاوم. 

في غزة تبتلع الأساسيات حياتك اليومية - المياة، الكهرباء، البنزين. كلها تعاني فيها النقص، كلها تظهر وتختفي بتخطيط أياد أجنبية. 

في غزة تشم أنفاسك فقط حين تنظر إلى البحر، وحين تغرب الشمس تتقد المياة بكشافات السجن - خط متكامل ثابت من الأضواء يبتر الأفق، يمحي إمكانيات المجهول.

في غزة يعرف الناس أنك غريب حين تجفل لدوي خرق حاجز الصوت؛ لم تكتسب بعد المناعة لعذابات السجان.

في غزة تعلق بين الماضي والحاضر: تعاني وحشية الاستعمار القديم، يجسد تهديده اليوم روبوتات طائرة.

في غزة قوبلت بدفء لم أخبره من قبل، ورأيت صمودا لا يجب أن يطالَب به بشر، وتشرفت بالتعرف على شعب يحافظ - في وجه كل المصاعب - على القيم التي تشكل صميم إنسانيتنا: العطف، والتراحم، والتجمعية، والصبر. التخلي عن غزة يثير التساؤلات حول كم الإنسانية المتبقية فينا - ويدفعنا للعمل على التمسك بها. 


On Returning From Gaza


Coming back to Cairo from Gaza is a strange and difficult experience. For five days the Palestine Festival of Literature – a collection of Arab artists from inside and outside the Arab world – lived in Gaza City. Now we have left.

The lights, the noise, the traffic of Cairo. The contrast is overwhelming.
Gaza, our neighbour, our sister: how close we are, have always been. And how hard she struggles now, alone.
But Gaza is not defeated.
Sarajevo wears her scars with defiance– memorializing history’s lessons for the next generation. Beirut paints hers over with malls and make-up – choosing to forget, to live for today. New York pushes herself further into the heavens – challenging the future. But Gaza, Gaza rebuilds and rebuilds and rebuilds again. It takes everything she has to continue to exist. She can neither cement her history nor secure her future. She exists firmly in the present: rebuilding, rebuilding, resisting.
In Gaza your daily life is consumed by fundamentals – water, electricity, petrol. All in short supply, all arriving and disappearing according to the designs of foreign hands.
In Gaza the only free breath you can take is looking out to sea. But when the sun sets the water is illuminated with prison floodlights – a perfect unmovable line of lights that cuts short the horizon, erases the possibility of the unknown.
In Gaza people know you’re foreign when you jump at the explosion of a sonic boom; still not yet numbed to the jailor’s torments.
In Gaza you exist between the past and the future, suffering colonial barbarities unleashed by robots in the air.
In Gaza I was greeted with a friendliness I have never felt before. I saw a resilience that should not have to be possible. And I had the honour of meeting a people who are keeping alive – against all odds – the values we prize as humans: compassion, community, patience. That they have been so abandoned should make every one of us question what little humanity we have left . And do everything we can to hold on to it.


Sunday, May 13, 2012

Analogue Zone, Cairo

This week Analogue Zones begins in Cairo - a week long workshop on shooting, processing and cutting 8mm and 16mm film. It is the first project to run out of Cimatheque - soon to be the hippest cinema in Africa. 

The week opens with a screening tomorrow night of selected experimental films, including one I made when taking the same workshop in Athens in September 2011.