Center for Arabic Study In Cairo (CASIC)

Cairo, Egypt

Today was our first day back to classes, in our new program: Center for Arabic Study In Cairo (CASIC). We're not back on the old Tahrir campus, as there are still demonstrations of varying sizes on Tahrir Square every day. Instead, we are having our classes in the AUC dorms in the ritzy, super-secure neighborhood of Zamalek.

Thanks To AUC...
Zeinab Taha is our hero! We thanked her often and effusively yesterday at our orientation, but I don't think we can thank her enough. When the University of Texas canceled CASA for the rest of the academic year, we felt stranded and abandoned, academically and financially. Thanks to the Zeinab, and AUC's new president and CASA alumna Lisa Anderson, we now have an academic home again, and much-needed financial support.

We're also very happy that our teachers will have the work that was promised to them. So are they, it seems, since several professors report having asked AUC to let them teach us without compensation during the revolution! With CASA canceled and all but 20 of AUC's 350 Arabic students having fled the country, if they didn't have CASIC, they'd have nothing!

We're Back To Business...
It was great to be in class again. I haven't forgotten quite as much Arabic as I thought I had over our 10 very long weeks of break. In fact, it's pretty amazing how much I've learned since June, and I'm excited to see how much I'll learn by the coming June!

It was also great to hear our professors talk a little about the revolution and their experience of it. We'd been asking ourselves all through the revolution if they were on Tahrir Square, and they certainly were.

Wael was out almost every day, playing bodyguard to his friend the Chief Supreme Court Justice, as one of the volunteers protecting the Egyptian Museum, and even being shot at by pro-Mubarak thugs. His friend the amazing interpreter was also there, leading the Muslim Brotherhood's defense of Tahrir Square from those pro-Mubarak thugs on horses and camels. And of course we saw his friend from the leadership of the Lawyers Syndicate on TV to announce that the lawyers were taking the side of the people against Mubarak.

Sayyed was also very excited about the revolution. For a decade, he explained, he's been arguing that the only way Egypt would change is from within the NDP. Some prominent party voice would have to publicly declare their disgust with the NDP and break away to form a new party. He'd never imagined that the people would effect change from beyond the party, and he's delighted to be wrong. I'm excited to take this class with him on Islamic political movements, especially in light of the current curiosity about the Muslim Brotherhood's next move here in Egypt.

But Not Quite As Usual!
Things are not yet back to normal in Cairo, whatever normal is going to be. There are still dozens of tanks blocking the streets around the Radio and TV Building, the heart and soul of the Egyptian propaganda machine. The only public transportation between my apartment in Tahrir and our classes in Zamalek should go down those streets. Consequently, there is no public transportation to class, and I refuse and can't afford to pay 30 pounds ($6) a day in taxi fare to get to class on my stipend. That's a whole week worth of koshary lunches!

This means that I practically ran to class this morning, for lack of public transportation, which took me an hour and left me with half a dozen blisters and all my clothes soaked in sweat. I don't mean to whine. I'm grateful that we have classes to go to! But I chose my apartment for its proximity to class and public transportation, and it's so frustrating to be stranded there now!

HR 1 and the Future of International Education

The memo below on budget cuts in the US Congress was circulated on Cairo Scholars today. The proposed budget cuts detailed below have profound effects on study abroad, cultural exchange, peace work and critical language teaching in the Egypt, the Middle East and beyond. These reductions effect both American students, professors and scholars seeking opportunities abroad, and also foreign students, professors and scholars wishing to enrich American institutions with their wealth of experience. It also represents a drastic reduction in resources and opportunities for American students starting at the kindergarten level to interact with the greater world.

In this era of globalization, interconnectivity and interdependence, we should be increasing our understanding of the rest of the world. I've seen photos of Egyptians holding placards in solidarity with striking government workers in Wisconsin, and government workers in Wisconsin holding placards in solidarity with Egypt, Libya, Algeria and Bahrain. This is how the world works now, and failing to prepare our youth for that reality will, in the long run, worsen our economic, political and cultural power far more than the deficit it reduces.

Dear MESA members,

Many of you will have been immersed in the news of the extraordinary events taking place in the Middle East over the last month or so. This update is to bring to your attention some important developments happening in the U. S. Congress that could affect programs in foreign language and area studies. A number of programs funded by the U.S government have been targeted for either major budget cuts or complete elimination.

Thinking that area studies specialists may be concerned about this possibility, I pass on information about a few programs particularly relevant to the broad disciplinary interests of MESA members.

Background
The U.S. House of Representatives passed House Resolution 1 (H.R.1) last week. What is H.R.1? It is the 2011 full-year continuing appropriations Act. It would extend the current 2011 fiscal year funding which expires March 4, 2011.The Senate returns from recess next Monday (February 28) to begin work on its version of a budget for the remainder of FY11. Many things can happen in the negotiations between the House and the Senate.

In H.R. 1:

• State Department international exchange programs would receive a 21 per cent cut, or a reduction to $501.3 million from the current funding level of $635 million. Two examples of programs funded under this program (http://exchanges.state.gov/scho-pro.html) are the Fulbright Program for Scholars serving scholars and the Critical Language Scholarship (CLS) Program serving undergraduate and graduate students.
• All funding from the United States Institute of Peace ($42.6 million) would be eliminated. www.usip.org USIP funds have supported hundreds of scholars and practitioners through its Senior Fellows program and hundreds of students through its Peace Scholars program. Its Grant Program has provided over 2,000 awards since 1986, a majority of which have supported the work of individual scholars around the world.
• Funding for the K-12 Foreign Language Assistance Program (FLAP) would be eliminated ($26.9 million). This is the Education Department's only dedicated grant program for K-12 foreign language education.
• Funding for the Improvement of Postsecondary Education--FIPSE (including the International Consortia Programs) would be cut entirely ($58 million).
• $350 million from the National Science Foundation would be cut. This could affect research funds for such disciplines and fields as Anthropology, Election Studies, Geography, Linguistics and Political Science.
• For the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH), H.R. 1 provides a FY 2011 budget of $145 million. This figure represents a $22 million (13%) cut from the agency's FY 2010 enacted budget. Examples of NEH grants are the NEH Research Fellowships, NEH Summer Institutes and Seminars for College and University Teachers, Collaborative Research Awards, Scholarly Editions and Translations Awards, etc.: http://www.neh.gov/news/recentawards.html
• Funding for the Grants and Administration portion of the National Endowment for the Arts would be reduced by $20.5 million. NEA has funded Literature Fellowships for Translation Projects.

Finally, although H.R 1 did not propose any changes to the funding levels for The Higher Education Act, Title VI and Fulbright-Hays 102(b)(6), changes may come up in next week's Senate deliberations or in negotiations with the House. Funded at $125.881 million in FY 2010, these programs represent less than 0.2 percent of the U.S. Department of Education’s discretionary budget. A cost-effective investment, this federal-university partnership stimulates substantial additional funding by universities and foundations.

Sincerely,
Amy W. Newhall
Executive Director

Reviving Downtown

Cairo, Egypt

I strolled down Mohammad Mahmoud Street and her side streets this afternoon, the first time I've been there in daylight, and finally saw the murals people have been talking about there.

"You're in my eyes, oh Egypt!"plays on a common Arabic endearment.

 

"I'm Egyptian / I'm Egyptian, Mother of the World / With the passing of time / Peace and love in each person's hands."
It's signed, "25 January: the beginning of Egyptian freedom"

"Raise your head up high...."

"...you're Egyptian!"

"Oh Lord, protect those who reform!"

"I love my country."

Woo. Rah.

Cairo, Egypt

Pro-democracy advocates had called for another day of protests today to put pressure on the caretaker government to include more opposition members in the interim government, and to set a solid timetable for a handover of power. Some are calling for protests every Tuesday and Friday until free and fair elections take place.

The government was ready. Tanks still line Kasr al-Aini Street between Tahrir Square and the Parliament. As I was walking across downtown, they had increased roadblocks around the Interior Ministry, site of some of the heaviest fighting during the revolution, to a two block radius. On Sheikh Rihan Street by the American University, exactly in the middle between the Interior Ministry, Parliament and Tahrir Square, there were half a dozen ambulances and MASH units waiting.

In fact, only a few hundred showed up on Tahrir Square for a very quiet protest. They didn't stop or even hinder traffic, which is still being directed by military police in this very sensitive downtown spot. It was not much of a protest.

But it is a reminder of the warning people were giving the Supreme Military Council as they left Tahrir Square after Mubarak's resignation on the 11th: Everyone knows the way back to Tahrir.

You Bought WHAT??

On a lighter note.... I am pleased to finally be able to publish this blog entry, now that the recipient of the secret gift detailed therein has received her surprise!

Cairo, Egypt, 29 December 2010

From Gwen Comes To Egypt

My cousin Gwen arrived safe and sound last night, after some sightseeing in Amsterdam along the way. We started out light on the first day, sleeping in till noon, having a leisurely lunch at Costa Coffee, and wandering across the Qasr al-Aini Bridge to the Opera to get tickets for tonight’s Nutcracker. They were sold out, so we got tickets for a piano concert instead.

When we arrived at the Egyptian Museum, it was closed. (FYI, it closes early on Wednesdays, which the guidebooks all neglected to mention.) So we decided to head over to Khan al-Khalili to do a little shopping and experience the Arab souq. Gwen’s good at bargaining!

We were on our way out when we spotted the man laying out animal skins and leather footrests. He also had a taxidermied fox and a pair of taxidermied rabbits. It was that latter that made Gwen stop and say, “That would a perfect gift for my mom!” It’s a long story best summed up by a phrase my mother loves to use in her defense, “But Auntie Viv is the only eccentric in the family!”

When we went out to dinner later, we left the rabbit on the coffee table in our living room, where my German roommate Amir agreed it looked hilarious. When my French roommate Sana'a came home, however, she startled Amir away from the book he was reading with a scream. It took him several minutes to remember the rabbit in the living room, and it took Sana'a several hours to get used to it, but eventually everyone agreed it was great for a laugh!

Boo CASA! Yay AUC!

Cairo, Egypt

The Center for Arabic Study Abroad (CASA) has canceled their spring semester, despite the resumption of near-normality in the streets of Cairo. They are also withdrawing funding for our stipends.

However, we've just received confirmation from the Arabic Language Institute at American University in Cairo. They will be providing our spring semester anyway, hopefully beginning as soon as Monday the 28th. They will also be providing our stipends.

For background, after recommending to CASA students that they return to Cairo, the University of Texas canceled the remainder of the CASA program for this year, including the stipends on which we were expecting to live until summer. (One of us is supporting two households on her stipend, while most of the rest of us at the very least have no other source of income until September, having counted on this fellowship to last until 1 June.) It took the University of Texas and their woefully misinformed security "specialists" two weeks to make this decision, and we have had no further communication from them since that decision 10 days ago, despite repeated emails from CASA Fellows for more details of how various elements of the program will be resolved.

Academically, CASA is one of the best Arabic language programs in the world, and has been for 40 years. However, I will not be able to recommend it to colleagues in future without serious caveats. The actions of the University of Texas regarding the CASA program have been chaotic, unorganized, and unprofessional. Had CASA students been in any real danger - and fortunately there was only one life-threatening but safely resolved incident during the revolution - there is no indication that UT would have even known about it in time to do anything. Only now, when the danger is passed, are they concerned about the "liability" of our staying on in Cairo, when we've already signed paperwork absolving them of all liability.

Despite operating for 40 years in Cairo, it became clear in this crisis that no one in CASA knew who was authorized to make critical decisions about student safety, evacuation, financial concerns like the distribution of stipends to pay our rent and food, or about the continuation of the program itself. It took 18 days, until the day Mubarak stepped down and the revolution ended, for CASA and UT to make the decision to suspend the program. It took them a further 10 days to respond to a single emailed question from CASA Fellows. If we had questions, we were instructed to contact the program director via Skype (she was not responding to emails, either) and when contacted she could only say that she was not authorized to make any decisions or recommendations.

I have worked with Rotary Youth Exchange, studied abroad with Goucher College, and was a Peace Corps Volunteer. In all those circumstances, not only were lines of communication and responsibility made clear to program staff, but also to program participants. Emergency plans were in place, lines of communication established, and participants were trained to take advantage of them. Not so with CASA and the University of Texas. Though this crisis was unexpected at this time, it was not unimaginable that an increasingly impoverished, overpopulated country ruled by a brutal dictator might some day, quite suddenly, fall apart. We are only lucky that Egypt did not do so as spectacularly and tragically as Libya. CASA and UT's lack of preparedness is inexcusable.

On the other hand, I am happy to report that the Arabic Language Institute (ALI) at AUC, which hosts CASA in Cairo, has stepped in to fill the gap. They have arranged for our classes to resume, our stipends to be paid, our health insurance coverage to continue, and the CASA/Cairo office to reopen. While they may not have communicated with us as often as we might have wished, lines of communication were always open, and emails have always been responded to promptly and as completely as was possible under the circumstances.

Of course, this is a mutually beneficial arrangement for ALI. Most of their students have left Egypt for good, and most of their teachers were looking at having no jobs this semester. With all CASA students - without exception! - expressing a strong desire to complete our studies despite (or perhaps because of) uncertainty about Egypt's political future, it makes sense for ALI to provide our classes. And we are glad to give the work to the amazing teachers who have helped us understand Egypt's revolution on a deep level most foreigners in Egypt don't.

Close Encounter with a Protester

Cairo, Egypt

From the moment I returned to Egypt, it was a different place. I wrote about it for New Matilda [reprinted below**].

Everywhere I go in Egypt, the atmosphere is different. I went to pick up a book for class at Diwan Bookstore, and the salesmen gathered around to hear me answer the question, "What do you think of Egypt now?" The same thing happened at the mini-market around the corner from my apartment.

Simply standing on my roommate's balcony is a different experience now. People are talking in the streets more than I remember from a month ago. Before the revolution, people went where they were going and kept their heads down. Now they're having conversations, hopeful conversations, animated conversations!

Of course, not everyone's happy. There was a man in the women's car when I was on the Metro today, and as usual he was screamed at to get out. But there was a different undercurrent. "There's no police to arrest me!" he said. And it echoed around the women's car: "There's no police, no regime, no government, no order...." As much as there is excitement in the wake of the revolution, there is also trepidation and uncertainty.

I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, and I'm just waiting for the CASA Executive Board to realize that, and allow us to start our classes again.

**UPDATE: January 1, 2016
No longer available at NewMatilda.com, I am reprinting the article here:

EGYPT 21 Feb 2011
The New Egyptian Normal
By Maryah Converse

Returning to her home in Cairo after the protests, Maryah Converse was struck by the optimism she encountered

I landed in Cairo at midday, full of excitement. I'd been reading on Facebook about the new spirit of Cairo's youth, cleaning streets and painting murals of love and freedom — and I couldn't wait to see it myself.

As I waited for my bags to arrive at baggage claim, I could hear the airport employees on strike in the Arrivals Hall. Like other workers who've been striking all week, they want a living wage. "We won't go to him," they were shouting. "He must come to us!" I was grinning ear-to-ear. A month ago, few Egyptians demanded their rights like this.

Then, immediately upon exiting customs, I was met by that first welcoming refrain: "Taxi? I give you good price!" Naturally, then, they asked for 110 pounds, when I'd paid 60 pounds when I landed in Cairo three weeks ago. The drivers insisted it was the "fixed price."

Outside the Arrivals Hall on the curb, I got some offers of 80 pounds, and as I was trying to get them down to 60 or 70, I heard a voice say, "I'll take you for 50!" I agreed.

The driver was in his 20s, clean-cut with a late model taxi. This was his first day back at work, he said, after camping out on Tahrir Square for three weeks. He told me that when he heard that I was going to a neighborhood adjacent to Tahrir Square, he wanted to take me so that he could see the place of his struggle and his victory.

"Did you come from America today?" he asked. I said that I had come from Jordan, and he said, "Did they hear about us there? What do they think about what we've done in Jordan?"

"They're so proud of you," I said. As Jordanian bloggers Naseem Tarawneh and Christine Makhmara explain, Egypt is more than just the Arab world's most populous nation. They call her "the Mother of the World," and Arabs have long drawn inspiration from Cairo.

"Our country is in its youth," said the taxi driver when I commented on how Egyptians finally have hope for their future.

I asked him what he thought about the military being in control. "At every level of the military," he said, "they are good men." He pointed out that it was the police who had injured and killed protesters, not the army. It was the police who were corrupt and oppressive, not the army. It was the police who caused trouble.

He mentioned the now-iconic image of men steadfastly bowing and prostrating in prayer on Kasr al-Nil Bridge as the police bombarded them with water cannons. "That's the kind of people we are," he said, peaceful people dedicated to a cause.

We drove past the synagogue in downtown Cairo, and he pointed out that it had been untouched. All the windows are intact, and there's no graffiti on its walls. "There were no police there," he said, "but no one damaged it. No temple or church was damaged. We're all one people."

As we came onto Tahrir Square, there were vendors selling Egyptian flags and red, white and black striped ribbons. Groups of people were clustered on the islands between streams of traffic, smiling and looking more relaxed than I remember them being before the protests began.

Later in the afternoon, I saw young people all around Tahrir Square and the side streets with brushes and cans of paint: green for touching up fences and bridges, and black and white for repainting kerbs. I even saw them stopping traffic to repaint the Tahrir Street crosswalk that probably hasn't been white for years.

I could see for myself that the shops and restaurants around Tahrir Square were largely undamaged. The only real difference from a month ago was that it was the military police in red berets and vests directing traffic, instead of the black uniforms of the usual traffic police.

"Bravo on you!" I said, and I paid my taxi driver 70 pounds anyway. He and the others on Tahrir Square deserve 10 times more than that for what they've done in the last three weeks. We can't know yet what the end result of the Egyptian demonstrations will be, but there's a new excitement and sense of possibility across Cairo.

Revolutionary Detritus

Cairo, Egypt

I returned from Jordan today to find my apartment showing signs of its time as a refuge for Egyptian revolutionaries and their allies. From this detritus, I learned a few lessons.

1. Less is more. I couldn't have put it more eloquently than that!

2. Sometimes you can't think too much. My roommate and the other revolutionaries and refugees who took shelter here worked there way through all of his alcohol, and then ravaged mine. It was the least I could do for Egypt!

3. Nicotine is a necessity. At least if you were already a smoker. My roommate is working on a sculpture of found objects. He hopes to eventually reach the top of the mirror....

4. Take your vitamins to harden your resolve! Actually, I don't know if this bottle of calcium was here before the revolution, left by some earlier roommate. The candles, though, were a wise precaution in case the pharaoh cut the electricity along with the Internet....

5. Pick up after yourself. Young people were out all over Tahrir Square and the surrounding streets with buckets of paint. They were repainting fences, railings, bridges, curbs.... I even saw a group of youth enlist a military policeman to divert traffic so they could repaint a crosswalk that probably hasn't been white for years!

More From Me!

I've been published again on New Matilda! Read about the cleanup and a new attitude in Egypt, and see them in action on YouTube:



UPDATE: January 1, 2016
No longer available at NewMatilda.com, I am reprinting the article here:

EGYPT 14 Feb 2011
Cleaning Up Cairo
By Maryah Converse

The profound effect of Mubarak's resignation on Egyptian society may take time to emerge - but change is already visible on the streets, writes Maryah Converse

Ask just about anyone who's been to Egypt, and one of the first words they'll use to describe Cairo is "dirty." The streets of Egypt's capital are notoriously strewn with trash, dust and pollution. Visitors to the country frequently complain about how little Egyptians seem to care about the appearance of the city that was once known as "the Paris of the Mediterranean." Now that Hosni Mubarak has resigned, that attitude may be changing.

As I watched for updates over Facebook and wrote to friends still in Cairo the day after Mubarak left the presidential post he'd held for 30 years, a dominant theme emerged. Everyone was talking about the clean-up efforts occurring around downtown Cairo.

My classmate Yasmeen Mekawy returned to Cairo on Saturday morning and went straight to Tahrir Square, the focal point of the protests over the last two weeks. "The first thing I noticed," she said, "was that there were youth all over the square and surrounding streets cleaning up".

Mekawy posted pictures on Facebook that showed young people bringing brooms and dustpans to the square. She photographed them dragging full plastic rubbish bags across the square to load them into lorries. In one picture, a group of them are sitting on top of a lorry full of rubbish flashing the victory sign.

These youth were not just conducting a superficial pick-up. Mekawy's pictures also show them rinsing the streets with water. She told me that they were "even mopping up the disgusting sludge of the alleyways."

An American friend of mine is doing an internship with an NGO in Cairo. She lives on Mohammad Mahmoud Street near the Interior Ministry, where the worst of the violence and vandalism happened on 28 and 29 January. On the day after Mubarak's resignation, she reported on Facebook, "This afternoon they are repainting walls along my street, formerly covered in angry graffiti and scorch marks from the clashes here, with murals of love, hope and freedom. 'Yesterday we were demonstrators, today we build Egypt,' signs read."

This new sense of civic responsibility among Egyptian youth didn't start after the fall of Mubarak. It was evident two weeks ago, in the earliest days of the protests. When I was on Tahrir Square on Monday 31 January, there were already piles of rubbish in bags on the edges of the square. I saw many young men and women walking around with plastic bags, collecting rubbish. On Tuesday 1 February, when I returned to Tahrir Square to witness the March of Millions, I heard several Egyptians scold each other for littering, something I had never heard before.

This clean-up is symptomatic of a broader change in Egyptian consciousness. I've only been in Cairo since June, but what I've seen in the last month represents an entirely new Egyptian people. For the first time, I see Egyptians who are hopeful about the future. Egyptians have always been proud of their culture, but for the first time in decades they're also proud of their country.

With that pride comes a sense of responsibility. Egyptians are not only holding their government to account for its actions. They are also holding themselves responsible for making Egypt a better place.

It's not all over yet, though. Without any indication from the Supreme Military Council about when they'll lift the Emergency Laws, some pro-democracy activists are not yet ready to stop the protests. Mekawy was on Tahrir Square again on Sunday, and reports that "the atmosphere there has definitely changed from yesterday. It's less celebratory, more tense. There are a lot of groups discussing politics and arguing and making speeches."

But one thing has definitely changed. A month ago, Egyptians didn't stand around talking about politics in public, but now they believe they have a say in the political future of their country.

Egyptian People Power

Busting some myths about the Egyptian Revolution:

Did the revolution in Tunisia inspire Egypt's youth movement? No.
It certainly encouraged and strengthened it, but movements like the Youth of 6 April, Kefaya, elBaradei's National Association for Change, and the youth mobilized by the death of Khalid Said have been working towards this moment much longer than that.

Was the 25 January Movement a leaderless movement? No.
Most people participating in the revolution probably knew nothing about who was behind it, but there was definitely an organizing committee, a plan, training, and oversight. That there was trash pickup, a clinic and other amenities of civilization on Tahrir Square was no spontaneous manifestation. This excellent behind-the-scenes look by al-Jazeera's People and Power explains:

Cycling in Celebration!

Dead Sea, Jordan

I chose to celebrate Egypt's new-found democracy with a Bike & Hike with the group that was formerly known as Tareef Cycling Club.

From Wadi Himara Once More

Jad warmed me that cycling and hiking with the organization Tareef had become was not the same experience as outings with Tareef. Even so, I'd really missed those weekly trips, and I wanted to get out of the city and get some exercise while I was here. Plus, I knew when I'd RSVP'ed to Aktham that he, at least, would be going, and I was looking forward to seeing him. He brought along a fellow Iraqi Kurdish refugee who's been living in Orange County, California, since she was relocated several years ago, and she was also fun to spend time with. We talked a lot about the cultural differences between Jordan and the US: what she and I had learned and Aktham will discover when his resettlement to Anaheim finally comes through.

Sure enough, it was not the same mixed demographic I remember. It was almost entirely 16-18 year old boys. In fact, it reminded me of backpacking with the Boy Scouts in high school, where everything's a race, and the boys were literally climbing the walls of the canyon. Still, it was the same beautiful Wadi Himara I remember from previous trips!

Politics was Inevitable
One of the things I always loved about Tareef was that even while we were raising money for the Gazans in the Hannukah War, no one spoiled our fun with discussions of politics. But Egypt's revolution is something entirely different. It has infused Arabs with a sense of hope they can't remember ever having, perhaps best explained by the Black Iris and Christine Makhamra of 7iber.com. When they find out that I fled Egypt to Jordan, everyone wants to know what it was like to be there at this exciting time. I keep coming back to the same point: for the first time since I've been in Egypt, I'm finally seeing Egyptians proud of their country, hopeful for the future, and believing in their ability to influence national politics. It's inspiring, and I can't wait to go back on Wednesday!

THEY DID IT!!

Amman, Jordan

I never wanted to be in Egypt more than I do right now! History is being made, and I could have gotten on a plane to Cairo this morning and been there to celebrate with my latest host country right now. Hosni Mubarak is out, and Omar Suleiman seems to be, too. The fraudulently elected Parliament has been dissolved. The cabinet has been dismissed.

The regime is half fallen!

But as much as I want to celebrate with the Egyptians, I'm worried. What we basically have in Egypt now is a military coup. Egypt doesn't have a good history with military coups. Everything hinges now on the limits of Tantawi's ambitions. Does he think of himself as the next Nasser? Because then things will get ugly fast!

Best case scenario, Egypt goes the way of Turkey: the military takes control for a few months, until a new government can be democratically elected, and then steps aside until democracy is threatened again. But only time will tell.

The regime is only half fallen.

Proletariat Rising!

Amman, Jordan

In Egypt on Wednesday, the revolution was gaining even greater popular momentum. Workers began striking all over the country, demonstrating a much broader base of support among Egypt’s lower classes. It’s true that the crowds on Tahrir Square include protesters from all walks of Egyptian life; I’ve seen them myself. The protests in Cairo, though, have been attended by a disproportionately large share of young intellectuals, and until Wednesday it was hard to know if they really represented the majority of their countrymen.

Workers’ strikes shouldn’t surprise anyone who’s been watching Egypt over the last several years. Strikes, sit-ins and work slowdowns in Egypt’s factories have been a sporadic nuisance to the business interests of both military and civilian employers for some time. Workers have even been able to gain some concessions in recent years, but Wednesday proved that those concessions were not nearly enough.

That’s why virtually everyone I know, in Egypt, Jordan and America, was certain that Hosni Mubarak would relinquish the presidency in his speech Thursday night. It’s increasingly clear that what’s happening in Egypt is not an intellectual exercise, or a mere youth movement. My roommate confirms that at least three young junior officers of the army have also joined protesters on Tahrir Square, and perhaps as many as fifteen. The military brass may have other plans, but the rank and file are beginning to show their sympathy for the protesters and their own desire for freedom and democracy.

Even as a youth movement, it had power. More than half of Egypt’s population is under 35 years old, and most of them unemployed or underemployed, unable to marry, and with little hope for the future before 25 January. With the working class joining demonstrations, it seems inevitable that the old regime must fall. It seems that only the regime hasn’t yet recognized its fate.

Hosni Speaks Again

Amman, Jordan

I'm watching Hosni Mubarak's speech on Egyptian national television, which protesters have been waiting with great anticipation.

He's promising to bring to justice those who caused the violence and deaths of the last 3 weeks. He praises the youth for calling for justice, but refuses to be dictated to by outside forces.

[As he says this, protesters are giving him thumbs-down from Tahrir Square.]

He refuses to take orders from outside, and repeats his commitment to not run in the upcoming elections, and his commitment to continue in his office until the September elections. He says that he has initiated the requested dialogue with the opposition, and that he is leading the nation out of crisis over the coming months.

[The crowd on Tahrir is erupting in shouting and thumbs-down.]

Yesterday, he says, the committee examining the constitution gave its first recommendations. In response, he is proposing to amend Articles 76, 77, 88, 93 and 189 of the Constitution, and to anull Article 179. At a later stage, he promises to amend further articles as recommended by the committee. This will, he says, ensure fair and transparent elections, under the authority of the judiciary. In time, he says, he will lift the Emergency Laws. For now, it is more important to restore confidence in Egypt's people that progress is being made. He is threatening that the economic crisis related to the protests will effect the youth first.

[Now people are holding up their shoes in the crowd on Tahrir, soles facing the televised image of Mubarak, a grave insult in Arab culture.]

He declares that these demonstrations are not about Hosni Mubarak personally. He repeats that he has done everything for Egypt, gone to war for her, lived through her occupation, and liberated Sinai.

[The crowd is roaring and shaking their shoes in the air.]

He insists he has only ever worked for the betterment of Egypt, and denies that he has never sought power or popularity, and that all people know this. He says that he has realized the necessity of turning over some of his power to VP Omar Suleiman. Egypt, he says, will prove that it is an independent state that does not bow to foreign pressure. At great length, he speaks about the eternal uniqueness and strength of the Egyptian nation. He repeats his determination to die in Egypt [one way or another, Hosni!], and says goodbye.

Now the crowds are shouting, "He must leave!" It was a patronizing speech, by a president who seems delusional in his apparently sincere belief that he is a hero of Egyptian history. I can't even express the disbelief I'm feeling right now. My heart is pounding. If I were Egyptian, I would.... I can't even imagine what. The hubris of this man is unbelievable!

11:37PM
Now I'm listening to Omar Suleiman's response.

He's saying that Pres. Mubarak has put the needs of Egypt above all else. He says they have opened the door to dialogue, and commits himself to anything necessary for a peaceful transfer of power, including national dialogue. He calls on all Egyptians to look together to the future, a free and democratic future for a nation of heroes. He asks the youth of Egypt to go home, to go back to work, and to return to the development of the country. He accuses the satellite television stations of fomenting discord. He praises the armed forces that defended both the revolution and the nation. He invokes the blessings of God in conclusion.

On al-Jazeera, John Bradley is calling this "political suicide" and a "double insult to the Egyptian people," a catalyst for the people to stage a real revolution. I have my problems with some of the analysis in Bradley's book Inside Egypt, but I have to agree with his analysis today. Now not only do Egyptians have incredible hatred for Mubarak, but they've got reason to see that the army is not the savior that they've thought it would be. Furious crowds are already marching towards the Television Building in Cairo, and the military base in Alexandria. I'm afraid that things are going to get really nasty now, and I'm worried about tonight and tomorrow.

This afternoon, as recently as 2 hours ago, I was sorry to be here in Jordan, and sorry that I had changed my plane ticket from tomorrow till Wednesday, wishing I could be in Cairo tomorrow to celebrate the fall of Mubarak. Now I think I'm glad I'll be here. In fact, I'm pretty doubtful now that CASA will resume at all this spring. But of course, my future in Egypt is not nearly as important as the future of Egypt's citizens there. I wish them the best, but am braced for the worst. Viva la revolution!

The pertinent bits of the Constitution:
Article 76:
The People’s Assembly shall nominate the President of the Republic. The nomination shall be referred to the people for a plebiscite. The nomination for the President of the Republic shall be made in the People’ Assembly upon the proposal of at least one third of its members. The candidate who obtains two thirds of the votes of the members of the People’s Assembly shall be referred to the people for a plebiscite . If he does not obtain the said majority the nomination process shall be repeated two days after the first vote. The candidate obtaining an absolute majority of the votes of the Assembly members shall be referred to the citizens for a plebiscite. The candidate shall be considered President of the Republic when he obtains an absolute majority of votes cast in the plebiscite. If the candidate does not obtain this majority, the Assembly shall propose the nomination of another candidate and the same procedure shall follow concerning his candidature and election.

Article 77:
The term of the presidency shall be six Gregorian years starting from the date of the announcement of result of the plebiscite. The President of the Republic may be re-elected for other successive terms.
(**) Amended according to the unanimity of the people's approval to the constitutional amendment in the plebiscite conducted May, 22nd 1980.

Article 88:
The Law shall determine the conditions which members of the Assembly must fulfil as well as the rules of election and referendum, while the ballot shall be conducted under the supervision of the members of a judiciary organ.

Article 93:
The People’s Assembly shall be competent to decide upon the validity of the membership of its members. The Court of Cassation shall be competent to investigate the validity of contestations on membership presented to the Assembly after referring them to the Court by the Speaker of the Assembly. The contestation shall be referred to the Court of Cassation within fifteen days as from the date on which the Assembly has been informed thereof while the investigation shall be completed within ninety days from the date on which the contestation is referred to the Court of Cassation. The result of the investigation and the decision reached by the Court shall be submitted to the Assembly to decide upon the validity of the contestation within sixty days from the date of submission of the result of the investigation to the Assembly. Memberships shall not be deemed invalid expect by a decision taken by a majority of two-thirds of the Assembly members.

Article 189:
The President of the Republic as well as the People’s Assembly may request the amendment of one or more of the articles of the Constitution. The articles to be amended and the reasons justifying such amendments shall be mentioned in the request for amendment . If the request emanates from the People’s Assembly, it should be signed by at least one third of the Assembly members . In all cases, the Assembly shall discuss the amendment in principle, and the decision in this respect shall be taken by the majority of its members. If the request is rejected, the amendment of the same particular articles may not be requested again before the expiration of one year from the date of such rejection. If the People’s Assembly approves an amendment, in principle, the articles requested to be amended shall be discussed two months after the date of the said approval. If the amendment is approved by two thirds of the members of the Assembly, it shall be referred to the people for a plebiscite. If it is approved by the people it shall be considered in force from the date of the announcement of the result of the plebiscite.

Article 179:
The Socialist Public Prosecutor shall be responsible for taking the measures which secure the people’s rights, the safety of the society and its political regime, the preservation of the socialist achievements and commitment to socialist behaviour. The law shall prescribe his other competences. He shall be subject to the control of the People’s Assembly in accordance with what is prescribed by law.

A Breather From Revolution

al-Mshairfeh, Jerash, Jordan

I want to support Egypt, and I've been glued to the TV day after day, but I needed a breather. I don't have the constitution to sit on tenterhooks day and night. And where better to have that break than in my favorite place in Jordan, Wijdan's house! Since I had extended my hospitality (and that of my Jordanian friends) to CASA Fellow Rachel, I extended the village's hospitality as well.

From A Breather From Revolution

I was particularly excited about taking Rachel to Mshairfeh because she's been doing research for her Masters thesis in a small town in Egypt, and I am interested in how she sees them comparatively. We also spent a lot of time on the bus to Jerash comparing the Jordanian Bedouin and Cairene dialects, and I just love people who like to talk linguistics!

Along the way, we took some time to visit the sites of the Roman ruins at Jerash, of course. It was the first time in a long time that I'd been to Jerash and not had anyone marvel at how I talked like a native. It's true, I really do sound like an Egyptian these days! Rachel even more so, which probably contributed to the confusion.

When we got on the bus to Mshairfeh, with a new bus driver who doesn't know me, there was some confusion as to what "those foreigners" were doing on their bus. "She speaks Arabic," I heard one say, "so ask her!" but no one did. "She used to teach in Mshairfeh," said one older man I recognized from West Msharifeh. Then Wijdan's nephew Sahim got on the bus, whose father owns the bus, and explained, "That's Maryah! She's going to my uncle's house. And she speaks Arabic!" As my pedigree was examined, Rachel and I were listening in and laughing quietly.

When we got to Mshairfeh and Wijdan started asking about where we'd been and what we'd done, Rachel said something I hadn't expected. "Maryah," she said, "is like a completely different person in Jordan. She's so happy all the time, so happy to be here." It's true, but I hadn't known it was obvious.

Watching Rachel play with the little kids reminded me of the early days of Peace Corps, when I really struggled to follow adult conversations at the neighbors' houses, and playing with the little kids was such a welcome distraction. I don't mean to suggest that Rachel's Arabic is bad. In fact, I was impressed at how quickly she was able to make a switch to understanding and even beginning to use Jordanian Bedouin Arabic. But as I said to Tareq when he commented on how much fun Rachel was having with the kids, sometimes it's such a relief to play with little kids that don't speak more Arabic than you do!

Abu Tareq On Egypt
At some point, in our conversations about the protests in Egypt, I said something to Abu Tareq that I expected to be controversial. "When I lived in Jordan," I said, "I thought I was living in a very poor country, but then I went to Egypt and realized that Jordan is not a poor country." I expected Abu Tareq, who sometimes has to borrow from his brother to put food on the table, to think that I was belittling the suffering of poor Jordanians. Instead, without a moment's thought, he agreed wholeheartedly, and started citing statistics of how little money most Egyptians live on. "That's why Egyptians come to Jordan to work for just 5JD a day," he said. "For an Egyptian, Jordan is paradise!" Even as we were hearing on TV that Jordanian hospital doctors were going on strike for 5 hours yesterday, Abu Tareq agreed that Jordan is in no danger of revolution. Jordan is a relatively good place to live, and I think even her worst domestic detractors would agree (off the record, of course!)

Breaking Silence in Egypt: A West African Perspective

by Melinda Holmes on Monday, February 7, 2011 at 6:14pm

 

The following article was written by my neighbor in Cairo. Please feel free to forward it to anyone you feel would be interested. He is documenting and writing about the situation facing the refugee community now and the work that we, the few foreigners from the NGO community continuing to function here in Egypt, are doing.

Breaking Silence in Egypt: A West African Perspective 
By Mouctar Diallo.
Written on Thursday February 3rd 2011, at 05:15 am.
 
It is four in the morning. I reside about two blocks from Tahrir square. I cannot sleep with the sporadic gunshots ringing around me. I have Al Jazeera on and surfing the Internet to have some sense of freedom. I have a lot of activist and blogger friends experiencing a siege as I write. People I have known for the last four years. All of them, part of the amazing organic community who is putting pressure on the Egyptian government.
 
The fall of the Berlin Wall is a great comparison in terms of the potential magnitude of the ramifications of the current events on the region. The difference: the reunification of Europe was simple, predictable in terms of the direction the old continent took.
 
In the Middle East, things are extremely more complex.
 
The future seems obscure. Egypt, the center of Arab and Islamic culture a few decades ago, with its population representing a quarter of the Arab demography, is going to set the tone for the region. At the moment that leading role is pointing at more chaos, more radicalization and more violence to come.
 
Here, there is no leading figure capable of effectively maintaining the socio-political fabric. Political fragmentation is occurring at an incredible speed. This is especially true with the government strategy to create a "pro-Mubarak" movement to give the police forces the capacity to continue their repressive work with the assistance of thugs recruited in the slums around Cairo, a city of 18 million people. Consequently, gangs and vigilantes are controlling the streets; some to practice all kind of pillage, others to protect their properties. Thus far, they are using knifes, wood, steel, chains and many other types of medieval weapons.
 
What will happen when the use of the barrels of firearms expands beyond the security forces and the army as Al Jazeera is currently showing? There are too many unknowns for now and probably still after the uprising becomes successful. For, undoubtedly, it will be successful.
 
The Black Africans, in this disorder of things, are the silenced community. Of the four years I have spent in Egypt, racism has been a constant companion, at all levels of the Egyptian social structure. This constancy of racial prejudice during times of peace cannot be imaginable during the current period of violence and suspicion. This is not to say that the racist behavior has to be generalized to all Egyptians, but the facts are the facts. See for yourself.
 
There is a considerable sub-Saharan African community in Cairo: refugees, students, migrant workers, international bureaucrats and government or political officials and their families. I spent about half of yesterday at the airport. I saw those with the financial means attempting to leave the country.
 
But there are other members of this robust community. Cairo is home to a significant refugee community from various countries. The bulk of them are from sub-Saharan Africa mainly Sudan, Ethiopia and Eritrea. Their whereabouts and welfare should be of public concern in these difficult moments. Their injuries and deaths (if any) should not be devaluated when considering the growing number of victims of the Egyptian State’s repression. Racism is as virulent in the Middle East as in the U.S. in the 1960s.
 
I was told, by a friend working at AMIRA, an organization involved in the relocation process of the refugees, that some Sudanese and Eritreans have been arrested and chased from their apartments. She also mentioned how it has been more difficult for them to feed themselves since the protests started. With some friends, she was working on getting some groceries to some Somali refugees. Prior to his departure for Turkey, another acquaintance and employee of the American University in Cairo, shared with me how he had to financially assist the Sudanese refugees he had befriended. Unable to work, deprived of any assistance in this time of chaos, their survival capacities have been substantively undermined. Abdul Kader, one of the leaders of the Somali refugee community in Cairo told me that their vulnerable financial situation has now been aggravated by pressures put on them by landlords, who themselves are strapped in an economy that has come to a halt. Even still, the landlords are pressuring the refugees to vacate their living quarters.
 
It does not stop there. Two Somali refugee women have been sexually abused in their home at El Ashra two days ago in the heat of the uprising. The Somali community leader, Ali Dahiradin, received the report this afternoon. The women have been beaten and sexually abused by a gang of young and armed Egyptians. Dahiradin was vexed, relaying to me that the women are complaining that there is no justice and that they cannot go to the police.
 
Even as I have ventured out, dedicated to my passion of documenting society, to capture these ongoing events, I have to deal with some remarks from some of the protesters. At the moment, it will not be fair and ethical for me to further comment on the faith of the sub-Saharan Africans, not knowing all the details. So far, I know that many are exiting the country and I am now thinking about it myself.
 
As everyone, I hope things will get better. But the reality is actually worse than what is shown on TV. Once again, the Media is exposing its weaknesses to manipulations through different political agendas defending different political and economic interests. Many have been hurt; many are unaccounted for; people are being killed. My utmost consideration and respect to the Egyptian people braving the state and its rigid structures of oppression and exploitation.

Egypt and the region will never be the same. The multitude are already on the move in Algeria, Jordan, Sudan and Yemen, whatever their specific differences.
 
It is now five fifteen. The call to prayer is being interrupted by the gunshots killing the children of Egypt in a place supposedly incarnating freedom, Tahrir Square. Their spilled blood will certainly give it back its symbolic grandeur as a space dedicated to liberty. As I am about to put my forehead to the ground, let us all pray to the all Mighty for the souls of those that fell today to the bullets of the wicked.
 
--
Mouctar Diallo
MA Candidate
Department of Political Science
Department of Sociology and Anthropology
The American University in Cairo

My Opinion In Print!

Cairo From The Streets | newmatilda.com

Maryah Converse is an American student in Cairo and the reports of the protests she’s seeing on television don’t look much like what’s happening on the streets.

  I've been published! This is an opinion piece I wrote about what I was seeing on the streets in Cairo versus what I and my parents were seeing on the news.

UPDATE: January 1, 2016
No longer available at NewMatilda.com, I am reprinting the article here:

EGYPT 4 Feb 2011
Cairo From The Streets
By Maryah Converse

Maryah Converse is an American student in Cairo and the reports of the protests she's seeing on television don’t look much like what's happening on the streets

As my classmates and I watched live coverage of the Egyptian protests after curfew on Monday, we became angrier and angrier.

What we were seeing on international news channels was nothing like what we had seen on the ground that morning. Al Jazeera English broadcast the best coverage by far, especially when they were streaming live footage of Tahrir Square and speaking over the phone with their reporters in the crowd.

On the other hand they kept showing stock footage of looting and rioting and violent clashes with police that were four days old, talking about them as if they were today's news. This might have something to do with the fact that Al Jazeera's Cairo office was shut down not long after the protests started.

Our parents would call with the latest headlines from CNN — which were exactly the same stories they'd called with days ago.

It's true that there was rioting, looting, vandalism and violence in Cairo last Friday.
An acquaintance saw men shot by the military with live ammunition right in front of her apartment building on Saturday night when protesters tried to storm the Interior Ministry. My roommate watched from a rooftop near Tahrir Square on Friday as looting and vandalism of shops took place right below — but he reported details that never made it on television.

It's true that some protesters did break into Hardees, McDonalds, Costa Coffee and other major international chains and steal food. But up the street, uniformed police officers, who also hadn't eaten all day, were not only stealing food from kiosks, they were completely destroying the basic structures. Such kiosks are the most tenuous of legal small businesses in Egypt. They operate on slim profit margins on their best days, unlike international chains like McDonalds, which is an expensive place to eat in Egypt.

That was on Friday and Saturday, before the police were withdrawn from the streets and the military took over.

On Sunday and Monday, as Al Jazeera was still airing pictures of violence, the mood on the streets had changed completely. We walked all over downtown Cairo, and spent hours on Tahrir Square, taking pictures and making notes so we'd be prepared to tell the real story of the 25 January Movement, now known as the "Lotus Revolution" — just as soon as internet access was restored.

We didn't see any violence or vandalism. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Protesters were going around Tahrir Square with plastic bags collecting rubbish — and this in a country where the streets are usually strewn with litter. By Tuesday morning they had organised their own security system, a dozen yards inside the military cordon. They were patting down everyone who came into Tahrir Square as thoroughly as any airport security agent, looking through everyone's bags, and reading everyone's placards. My nail clippers were even confiscated, which I've taken through airport security a dozen times.

By Tuesday afternoon they were organising the delivery of food, water and shelter to the Million Man March, determined not to leave the square until Hosni Mubarak leaves the presidency.

What I saw was an incredible sense of brotherhood, self realisation and pride of ownership.

According to our professors, this is something that has been sorely lacking in Egypt for a long time. There was a time, one of them told us last summer, when two men arguing in the street would have drawn a crowd of their neighbours, who would have helped resolve the argument peacefully. Under Mubarak, people became so afraid of getting arrested along with the men who were arguing that they would simply look away. That's not true anymore.

Bored young men who used to loiter on bridges and street corners to pick fights and harass passing women now have a cause, a plan and a hope that they might achieving it. Now when men stop us on the street, it's to shout "Down with Mubarak!" or get their pictures taken with their placards. "You'll send your pictures to America so they can see what's really happening here, right?" they ask us. "Tell your people about us, and tell your government to stand with us!"

Al Jazeera and the BBC had been reporting on anti-Americanism and rumours that the press was inciting the revolution — but none of that was evident on the streets of Cairo, either. Sure, plenty of people stopped us to deliver loud harangues on the Obama Administration's hypocrisy in taking the side of a dictator when real democracy was happening in the streets. To those who don't speak Arabic, impassioned Egyptians may look and sound very angry and threatening, but to us they were inspiring.

In our six months living in Egypt and studying intensely its politics, economy and society, we never guessed that this was coming. Tension was building, sure, and economic conditions were critical during Ramadan in September, but things have been bad in Egypt for years. We didn't see an end in sight. Now we do, and we are immensely proud of our Egyptian brothers and sisters for standing up for what's right and just.

On the news they're reporting that foreigners are frightened and fleeing Egypt, but not us. I didn't want to come to Egypt in June, but now I have a love for these people that I never could have imagined. Even as pro-government factions renew the violence on Tahrir Square Wednesday night, I still feel a pervasive optimism and excitement that Egyptians may finally get a government of their choosing.

The Not-Egypt

or, Jordan Is Approaching Modern and Entirely Stable

Amman, Jordan

I've been having the same conversation over and over again in the last few days ... no, in the last few weeks, in fact! I've had it with Returned Peace Corps/Jordan Volunteers, with Jordanians, with Egyptians, with Americans. While everyone in the media is calling Jordan "the next Egypt" and expecting Jordan's imminent collapse in its own revolution, my friends and I are talking about what a mistake it is to consider Jordan and Egypt even remotely in the same category.

As Peace Corps/Jordan Volunteers, we thought we were living in a really poor country. That's what Peace Corps Volunteers do, after all. And I don't mean to suggest that Jordan isn't a place with pervasive, urgent problems of poverty, unemployment, corruption, education and infrastructure. But those of us, Peace Corps Volunteers and Jordanians, who have been to Egypt have a very different view now. Jordan is not a Third World country anymore; it's solidly Second World, on its way to the First World. Poverty, education, corruption and infrastructure in Egypt are in a completely different category.

The degree of despair and hopelessness in Egypt was, until last week, an oppressive weight on me nearly everywhere I went in my daily life in Egypt. When you asked Egyptians about their future, they generally shrugged hopelessly and invoked God. "As God wills," or "It's in God's hands." It's not that you don't see such fatalism in Jordan, but it's not so nearly universal as it seemed to be in Egypt.

I think it's why there's so much more harassment in Egypt. Everywhere we girls go in Cairo, almost every young man we pass shouts "Ya muzza [banana]!" or "Ya buTTa [duck]!" or "Ya 3assal [honey]!" or one of a hundred other variations on "Hey, baby!" These are young men who probably hold a Bachelor's degree, but are likely unemployed or underemployed. They can't expect to marry before 40, or even have a girlfriend. They're socially, economically, sexually and emotionally frustrated. With no hope in sight, they amuse themselves by harassing passing women - not just foreigners, but Egyptian women, too, both with and without the hijab. You get a little of that in Jordan, but again, not on the same scale.

Since I returned to Egypt on Jan 27, though, I only heard these variations on "Hey, baby!" twice, and both times from pro-Mubarak thugs. For the first time Egyptians are feeling like they have some hope, some agency in their own futures. Jordanians have been developing that sense of agency for many years, and don't show the kind of hopelessness and despair I'm accustomed to in Egypt. A Bachelor's degree means something in Jordan; not as much as it means in America, but something. Men can expect to marry in their late 20s and early 30s. The job market is not as tight. An entrepreneurial Jordanian, especially among the increasing number with computer and English skills, can hope to make something of himself or herself that's better than what his or her father could achieve.

The country has a long way to go, but it's definitely going there. King Abdullah II's school reforms have transformed education in the Kingdom, and I watched it happen first hand as a Peace Corps Volunteer. University reforms are still necessary, but as today's schoolkids enter university, that change is inevitable. There are now computers in 99% of Jordanian schools, and more and more Jordanian families are acquiring computers and Internet access. From school reforms, the culture of the whole country is changing, becoming more aware of the greater world, learning more critical thinking skills, and becoming more politically active at home.

What's essential to understand about Jordan is that, though things are in need of significant improvement, you can see that improvement happening, bit by bit, around the country. The Jordanian standard of living is slowly going up, and the people know that their king, for all that he's controversial, has had a lot to do with how the country has improved. He has pushed for economic, educational and social reform. While many Jordanians may feel that he and his wife are more Westernized than Jordanian, they still see the tangible benefits of modernization, of conforming to the international standards of the Western, developed nations. Though privately they complain about this or that the king is doing, I still believe that most Jordanians are proud of their king.

You could see this clearly by comparing the massive protests in Egypt to the small demonstrations in Jordan. On Friday, 28 January, Egyptians came into the streets by the millions demanding "the fall of the system," i.e. of the whole government leadership, and the resignation of Pres. Mubarak. In contrast, a couple hundred Jordanians came out to ask for certain laws to be repealed. The Egyptian police responded with teargas, water cannons and rubber bullets, but the Jordanian police brought Pepsi and sandwiches to the demonstrators. On Friday, 4 January, millions of Egyptians came out again, demanding freedom of expression and the fall of the government. In Jordan, about 50 Communists gathered to chant a few slogans in the most desultory, bored fashion you could imagine for a demonstration. Even the sensationalists at CNN, when they went around downtown Amman, Jordan, looking for revolutionaries, couldn't find anyone who even wanted to protest, let along overthrow the government.

The Sad Consequences
Knowing what I know about Jordan, and what my American and Jordanian friends see on the streets here, I know that Jordan is still the safest place I've ever lived in the world. I've heard that hundreds of tourists have canceled their plans to vacation in Jordan, because it's an inch away from Cairo on a map, or because of the media's attempt to portray Jordan as the next powderkeg. Jordan depends heavily on those tourists and their money, and this will be a blow for Jordan's already shaky economy. But Jordan has been through this before, with 9/11, the War in Iraq, the Amman hotel bombings in 2005, and the economic crisis of 2008. Every time it seems that Jordan's tourism sector is finally stable, some global event sends it into a tailspin. Every time Jordan comes back, though, they come back stronger. In the long term, I think Jordan and Jordanians will find themselves in an even better position than ever: more foreign aid, more foreign investment, and more tourism, as Jordan becomes ever better known as the most stable nation on the Red Sea or in the Arab World entirely.

a day in revolutionary times

by Amir Heinitz on Saturday, February 5, 2011 at 1:33am

i start having difficulties with mastering the information influx and the various events that occur during one day, together with my current two flatmates we try to keep order in our thoughts and memories, but sometimes it's hard to remember what happened in the morning, what was said by whom yesterday, or was the time order the other way around.

let me try to write a bit about today - the morning was fine, the atmosphere ahead of the day of departure (tomorrow will be day of departure II) was much better than the last two days. people were smiling again, at least on my street people were being let through road blocks. trying to organize our thoughts, posting things on the internet and getting in touch with people outside the country, we only managed to leave the flat after lunch time. on midan falky we met up with two more friends for a juice, after a few minutes army police approached us, check our papers, asked us, where we were going, we replied correctly, to my friends place, and it was ok. we went to my friends place, from the roof we could see masses streaming into tahrir. we went down and walked in. the street there was controlled by muslim bortherhood, discernible by the large numbers of beards, but more importantly by me getting an escort by a muslim brotherhood member, who showed his MB membership card to everybody at the approximately 10 civilian checkpoints along the way and said that i was german, and that it was ok. we left cameras at home, and came as students and tried to keep a low profile. inside the square the atmosphere was a lot better than the last time we had been there. but even though the festive mood had returned to some degree, people were anxious, nervous and their conversations confused. people still welcomed us in the typical egyptian way, though we started being more of a curiosity, since many foreigners left during the last two days. some people were afraid of muslim brotherhood taking over, others of a military dictatorship being established and liberties being continued to be curtailed, but everybody wanted mubarak gone. the state media had been spreading that kfc was providing free food to demonstrators in an attempt to mark demonstrators as foreign directed stooges. we had gotten some koshary (typical egyptian food, rice noodles, lentils with a tomato onion sauce on top) from one of the local places. while we were eating it, people approached us and took pictures of us, making fun of the state media for its failing efforts to frame public opinion. obviously foreigners eating koshary on midan tahrir was a good sign for them. as we were leaving a rumour spread that mubarak had left the country - people started kissing each other men had tears in their eyes, a woman with veil started shouting at us, that this was the best day of her life, that she had been oppressed by the regime since she was a child, that mubarak killed his own people and stole the money of the egyptians. she was vehement about being an egyptian first, that she has christian friends, and repeatedly screamed that the outside world should know that she is not a terrorist.

the way back home went smoothly, but all of us were confused with the different impressions, while we were on the square an announcement came out that a committee to represent the people on tahrir square was formed - it numbered 100 people and as the names were announced later on, none of the political opposition parties, whether baradei MB, kefaya or 6th of april were included. it was a non-ideological non-religious committee solely intended to represent the egyptian people [i hear shots outside again, and people are shouting in big masses] later on we got into a discussion whether the MB or the army was the bigger threat, someone who was well informed came by, and we discussed the events of the day and what will happen on the next day. [i'm shutting the lights, the shots are getting closer, and my cat horreya wants to cuddle] the opposition will continue, but outside activity will be come paramount, there needs to be more pressure from the outside, the man needs to leave, and foreign governments need to get actively involved in whatever capacity they see fit in the transition process. foreign meddling won't lead to anything good, but offers of assistance in general terms will probably be heard. the people here are very capable, but mubarak is still fighting desperately and, if, like two of my egyptian friends have told me know, he shall not turn cairo into the rome that nero burned, more needs to happen from the outside, in culturally and politically appropriate manner, and the egyptian people shall overcome. [street hunts are continuing on the streets.] some prayers wherever would be nice

Amir Heinitz is my roommate, still living in our apartment just a few blocks from Tahrir Square in Cairo where the protests and street fights have been raging for 12 days.

Refugees in Cairo Are Starving

Egyptians Evict them from their Apartments and Attack them with Machetes and Guns
by Amir Heinitz on Thursday, February 3, 2011 at 11:28am

At eight o’clock, after a night interrupted by pistol and machine gun shots and loud arguments between pro-Mubarak and pro-Democracy Egyptians on my street, I was woken up by a phone call from one of the Somali community leaders from the low-class Cairo neighbourhood Ardiliwa. “Amir, our people are starving, we don’t know what to do. Some of the Egyptian landlords have threatened to evict us from our apartments, if we don’t pay them the rent right away.”

The tension on the streets is high. When I walked through Cairo’s downtown streets close to my apartment at lunch time, people were suspicious of each other, some quarrelled. Later on fights broke out, Mubarak thugs and supporters and protestors attacked each other with stones. Plainclothes police officers used their guns against protesters. The army was standing by, not going further than occasionally firing with their machine guns into the air.

The exact number of the refugee population from Sudan, Somalia, Iraq, Ethiopia, Eritrea and other African countries in Egypt is unknown. Numbers vary between one and three million, most of these refugees come from South-Sudan and Darfur. The numbers of Somalis seeking refuge in Egypt, particularly in Cairo is rising, due to the continued warfare in the Horn of Africa. Since refugees took to the streets in 2005 and protested against their inability to earn money legally, get access to any form of proper health care system, send their children to school and constant racial and religious discrimination faced in daily life in Egypt, the UNHCR moved its operations an hour outside of dowtown Cairo to 6th October City. Refugees struggle to gather the money to take a bus there, and since then no real relations exist between the communities and UNHCR, which according to its platform is the agency for assisting refugees. Refugees complain regularly of being turned away and being beaten up by UNHCR security personnel.

During the current crisis the army has not deployed in Ardiliwa, neither in the neighbourhoods of Arab Maadi, where many Ethiopian refugees live, nor in the parts of Nasr city populated by large numbers of Sudanese. During the last days all my phone calls were dominated by one topic: “Amir, we cannot leave our apartments anymore. What can we do? We are worried. I hope you are safe.” Those that managed to get work as security guards of factories, packers, house maids or those who have to sell their bodies for money in less dignified ways, could no longer bring in the few Egyptian Pounds they were contributing to their families and communities.

Before the revolution broke out my colleagues and I were working on urgent resettlement cases of Ethiopians that had been tortured by the Ethiopian regime in ways unimaginable and for whom life in Cairo only intensifies their traumas. We were working on the cases of Iraqi women, with cancerous growths in their breasts, who are harassed by Egyptians on a daily basis because they refuse to cover their hair. A Somali father with ten children approached me for help with his and his ten children’s resettlement case. He could only buy 3 kilograms of lemon per week for his family, that is 40 grams of vitamin C per head each day; the WHO recommend 400 grams. I was supposed to see a Sudanese women last week whose daughter is becoming progressively paralyzed due to the lack of treatment for her leg which was shot in Darfur. During the last few winter months everybody I met suffered colds or influenza. These refugees who are extraordinarily vulnerable should, according to UNHCR instruments, be resettled to countries where they can overcome their psychological trauma, grow up and live healthily, with access to health care and education and free of harassment.

The UNHCR has closed down. A few days ago I heard that they would open again yesterday, they did not. The road to 6th October City is too dangerous, criminals are roaming the highways, cars are stopped and plundered. The staff, mostly consisting of Egyptians who live in the affluent areas of Cairo, cannot go or want not to go to work. Talk is that UNHCR will be closed at least for another seven days. Caritas, located among the five-star hotels, embassies and villas of Garden City, is unreachable for refugees from the outskirts of Cairo. Walking down Garden City myself I am subject to road blocks erected by army and popular committees every second road. Despite the favourable treatment I receive with my white skin, a reality which is changing rapidly, a thirty minute walk turns into mental exhaustion.

One of the Iraqi community leaders in 6th October was approached by a number of Iraqis while on the market today: what can we do? We have our residence on our UNHCR refugee papers, we cannot even leave the country. We do not have valid passports anymore. A few days ago the Iraqi government sent two airplanes to evacuate Iraqi citizens, refugees from civil war in Iraq, how can they be expected to flee back. Another Iraqi reported how thugs attacked his house with sticks, machetes and guns. One of the men protecting the house was shot. Eventually, they managed to overpower the intruders and turn them over to the authorities. There were reports today saying that the government not only set criminals free, but that some NDP members take part in robbery and assault to spread fear among the people. Iraqis, confronted with an array of stereotypes against them and little means of effective protection, make easy prey.

At night another Somali community leader called me. His breath was short and he was shouting into the phone “They started coming, Amir. They were at our cafeteria. They have knifes and sticks, they are firing at us. I heard someone screaming of pain. What can we do? What can we do?” “Run, Abdikadir, run, get inside your home, look after your family.” The gate to Abdikadir’s house was later on broken. He stayed up all night guarding the house and protecting his young siblings and his old father. Ethiopians and Sudanese on the phone complained about the lack of food all day long - their diet is already beyond meagre. Their gratitude for someone caring only increased my feeling of powerlessness. My nerves were shot but tears would no longer come after having seen uncountable injured Egyptians being carried inside from the edges of Tahrir Square by pro-Democracy demonstrators.

Amir Heinitz is my roommate, still living just a few blocks from Tahrir Square in Cairo.

Things Heat Up In Cairo

Cairo, Egypt

Wednesday, 2 February 2011, 9:30AM
Alex and Lev are leaving on the American-organized evacuation flights for Europe today, and my parents have bought me a ticket to Jordan for tomorrow. I’m feeling quite conflicted, as I know Alex has been as well. We want to be here to see Egypt get the democratic, popularly-driven government it wants and deserves. This is the first time I’ve really wanted to be here in Egypt, felt real, deep affection for the people of Egypt. But if Mubarak doesn’t get his head out of his ass and step down by Friday, we’re afraid of what might happen after the afternoon sermon. The military still hasn’t said whose side they’re on, and the pro-Mubarak rally we saw this afternoon was unsettling at best. Discretion being the better part of valor, we’re running for the hills.

It’s not just our safety that’s driving us abroad. For three days, Egyptians have been begging us to get our pictures and experiences out to the rest of the world, to let them know what’s really happening here, and to urge our governments to support the protesters. All along, we’ve been promising to do just that, but we’ve only been able to get things out in bits and pieces over our periodic phone calls from home. Without Internet, the bulk of what we have to show and say to the world is trapped in Egypt. Not to mention that our family and friends are worried at best, frantic at worst, watching on CNN and Fox the repeated reports of looting, vandalism, anti-Americanism and violence in Egypt. If we leave the country, we can get the truth out and better support our Egyptian brothers and sisters in their struggle. We can do our part to put pressure on our government representatives to intervene. And with Skype, we can easily stay in touch with our friends here to keep the lines of communication open.

As I left Zamalek, it became more and more apparent that my taxi driver was an outspoken pro-Mubarak supporter. He had national radio on in the cab, and spoke at great length on how it’s time to end the violence and destruction, to reunite as one Egyptian people behind their president, and to restart an economy that was already failing. I’m reminded of a placard I saw yesterday at the Million Man March that read, “Egypt’s heart has stopped. We’re giving CPR.” As we came across the 6 October Bridge, there were few pro-Mubarak supporters in sight below. As we reached street-level, traffic was backed up as usual in the interchange near Ramsis street. “Did you ever think,” I joked with my driver, “that you’d be happy to see a traffic jam in Cairo? Things feel so normal again!” He agreed, assuring me that the worst was over and today would be the last day of protests. The government had already announced that Internet service would resume today, and by tomorrow the country would be back to normal, he said. I hope he’s right, but I’m skeptical.

Here in my apartment near Tahrir Square, things look quiet. My French roommate is moving the last of her things to her new apartment around the corner, a move she’s been planning on for a couple weeks now. My German roommate, meanwhile, filled up all the beds and couches in the apartment with protesters and foreign observers who hadn’t been able to go home last night. They are very apologetic about sleeping in my bed, but I’m glad to have been able to extend that service, even unknowingly, in support of the revolution. The Eritrean-German girl across the hall is back in her apartment, looking much more confident and optimistic than the last time I saw her.

11:30AM
My taxi to Dokki had to take the long way around, through Mounira down to the Botanical Garden, and then back up along the Nile to Tahrir Street in Dokki. These are mostly lower middle class neighborhoods, very different from Zamalek where I’ve been staying until today. As we drove through, things looked pretty normal. About two thirds of shops, restaurants and businesses seemed to be open. Despite widespread rumors of food shortages, especially bread, shelves seem to be pretty well stocked here and the usual street vendors are out selling government-subsidized bread. Traffic was still nothing like its usual snarl, but seemed to be up to almost half its usual volume. There were police deployed in their usual numbers. We passed several knots of protesters, but it was unclear which side they were on. Those holding signs on the square in front of the Sheraton seemed to be pro-Mubarak supporters, calling for national unity.

The best news is that Internet is now back up, and I can start putting up pictures and updating my blog again, not to mention reassuring the dozens of people who’ve sent emails, Facebook messages and posts and tweets to express their concern and lend their support. It makes me feel a little more guilty about leaving Egypt at this critical juncture, knowing that I could still get this information out if I stayed, but there’s no telling how long Internet will remain available, and discretion is still the better part of valor!

12:30PM
Before we got sucked into all the things we have to do on the Internet (and while it’s still night in America and no one in America is sitting by their email and Facebook in suspense), we decided to walk to Tahrir Square and see for ourselves what demonstrations look like today. On our way down the main street of Dokki, we were stopped by several groups of men who told us that “the real protest” (the pro-Mubarak protest) was in the other direction. As we crossed over onto Gezira Island, we noticed that almost all the taxis had “Yes to Mubarak” signs in their windshields. Not only that, but they were all relatively late-model taxis, which prompted Rachel to mention that there’s a government program that helps taxi drivers buy new vehicles. We suspect the government may have been using that as leverage to get these drivers out with a pro-government message.

As we crossed Kasr al-Aini Bridge, we started to get an uneasy feeling. All along the bridge there were knots of people arguing. Most were having pretty civil conversations. The anti-government protesters understand that real democracy means dialogue with the opposition, and they’re seeking opportunities to do that. They’re also whole-heartedly dedicated to non-violence, which includes verbal non-violence, and they were demonstrating that all along the bridge. The pro-Mubarak supporters, though, were very different. They were shouting, even screaming, with a very angry edge to their tones. And they were arriving by the minibus-full, as they were at yesterday’s pro-Mubarak rally down the Corniche. We’re pretty sure that they’re being bussed in by the government.

The closer we got to the military roadblock on the far side of the bridge, the more uneasy we became. Arguments became more and more heated, and there was a definite threat of violence in the air. We decided we didn’t want to take the risk of getting stuck on Tahrir Square if violence does break out, and retreated back to Dokki.

On our way back towards Dokki, Rachel was stopped by a father moving towards Kasr al-Aini Bridge with his five grown daughters. They had heard reports of violence breaking out on Tahrir Square, and were stopping people coming from that direction to see if they could get more information. As we talked to them, several knots of men tried to start an angry political discussion with the father, but he was very quietly refusing to engage in political debate, and asking only for the facts. Eventually, several anti-government protesters came by, pointing out that the anti-government faction was so much bigger than the pro-Mubarak faction that they would be crazy to start violence.

4:00PM
Andrew and Cosette are on Tahrir Square, where things are getting scary. Pro-Mubarak supporters have gotten onto Tahrir Square and are picking fights with anti-government protesters. Hoping to maintain a peaceful protest, the anti-government protesters are surrounding pro-government instigators, moving them off the square, and throwing over the fence in front of the Mugamma to be arrested by the military. We’ve urged Andrew and Cosette to get out of there quickly, before it gets worse.

Yesterday on Tahrir Square felt very much like I imagine it would have felt to be on the National Mall in Washington, DC, listening to Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech. Today, though, it feels more like Birmingham, Alabama. Even under threat of very real violence against them, protesters continue to stand by their vow of nonviolence, the vast majority of them refusing to engage in violence even when they’ve been attacked and their lives are at very real risk. I can only hope that they can maintain the peace.

In the interim, someone’s mother has passed on the gist of an interview she saw with one of the “pro-Mubarak supporters.” Apparently he told journalists that he didn’t particularly want to be there, but that he works for the national petroleum company, and his superiors ordered him to Tahrir Square to support his president. None of us are the least bit surprised by this.

4:58PM
We’re watching on al-Jazeera English the action on Tahrir Square. There is definite violence happening on the street, with pro-government supporters attacking the thus-far peaceful protesters in running street battles, with the battle lines flowing back and forth. Anti-government protesters are holding their ground as best as they can without weapons. Pro-government “protesters” have hijacked several military trucks, are hurling rocks and bricks and other debris from rooftops onto the protesters below, and are attacking anti-government protesters from horse- and camel-back. The army is just standing by and watching. Rumor is that many of these instigators are plain-clothes or secret police sent by the Mubarak government to foment violence. Others are claiming that pro-Mubarak supporters have been delivered to points near the square in police transports. Foreign journalists are reporting that pro-Mubarak supporters have attacked them. Meanwhile, there are no ambulances around to take away the injured, whose numbers are growing.

5:26PM
The Government is claiming that there are no plain-clothes or secret police among the pro-Mubarak supporters, and that these are simply ordinary Egyptians coming out to protest the violence and instability that has filled their streets for the last nine days. Of course, this jives with Mubarak’s attempt last night to paint himself as a force for stability and order. Moreover, the army is not making any effort to stop the pro-Mubarak supporters from their frightening acts of violence. That seems a pretty fair indication that the military has taken the side of the regime. The government is also denying that shots have been fired, though of course reporters have them on tape by this time.

5:37PM
Buildings are burning and tear gas is billowing on Ramsis Street beside the Egyptian Museum. El-Baradei is calling for the army to intervene, but it’s clear they have no intention to do any such thing. One emergency vehicle is coming up the Corniche towards Tahrir as night falls, but it’s unlikely it will come close enough to the square to be of any assistance. Only one emergency vehicle is not going to help a conflict of this scale. Now a second is on its way, but it’s still a mere palliative.

10:19PM
After hours of relative quiet on Tahrir Square, now there’s gunfire sounding over the plaza. My German roommate is making frequent reports over Facebook on the state of things in the downtown. He’s been onto Tahrir Square several times with medical supplies, water and moral support. I’m concerned for his safety, but impressed by his dedication to Egypt’s cause. He says that it’s a war zone down there, and with very little help in sight. Among other things, he reports that they’ve given shelter in our apartment to a foreign journalist who was attacked by pro-Mubarak supporters near Tahrir Square. I know a couple of German journalists who previously lived in our building have also been using our apartment as one their refuges.

My roommate also works with refugees in his usual job, and considers many of them his friends. As he gets them, he’s posting updates on Facebook about the refugee experience in the revolution. On a good day, it’s tough to be a refugee in Egypt, where unemployment is so high and wages so low for Egyptian citizens that they begrudge every pound spent on refugees they didn’t ask for. Now, with most ATMs out of cash and all the banks closed, UNHCR has been unable to pay out the usual food stipends that refugees depend on. At the same time, with rampant rumors of food shortages, shops are refusing to sell to refugees. This evening, as violence broke out on Tahrir Square, it’s also breaking out in refugee neighborhoods across the city, and many of the city’s Sudanese, Somali, Iraqi and other refugees now fear for their lives.

11:30PM
I’ve just spoken to an old Peace Corps friend, Ashley Bates, who works as a journalist with Mother Jones. I’ve linked in the past to her excellent reporting on the Gaza Strip, where she lived for a year as a freelance reporter, so she can relate more than almost anyone else I know to what it’s been like here. I’m not sure if it was an interview exactly, or just checking in and getting some background, but either way it was great to talk to her. She’s been tracking the experiences of Sudanese refugees in this crisis, the role of the Muslim Brotherhood, and other stories periphery to the street fighting. She’s putting me in touch with some of her other contacts, as well.

Thursday, 3 February 2011, 8:11AM
I’m at the airport. We decided it was best to leave Dokki as early as possible, to be sure that we could find a cab and get through the streets before too many pro- or anti-government protesters were awake and, in the case of the former, spoiling for a fight. As we walked out towards the main thoroughfare, there were amateur roadblocks set up every hundred meters or so, and a cluster of tough-looking men standing on the corner between the King Hotel and the Wafd Party offices. The neighborhood was well-protected and showed no signs of any sort of struggle last night. Out on Tahrir Street, it was easy to flag down a taxi. We didn’t even bother to ask about price, just deciding among ourselves that we’d pay LE150, a little more than twice the usual fare to the airport, and be glad to get there safe and sound. After all, it’s a number easily divisible by 3!

Our taxi was stopped once on the Dokki side by a neighborhood watch who wanted to see the driver’s license and peek in the trunk, but everyone was very calm and collected about it, and we went on easily enough. The streets were virtually empty, except for the overpasses on the east end of the 6 October Bridge. We’d seen footage on al-Jazeera last night of pro-government supporters throwing stones and Molotov cocktails off those overpasses on the anti-government protesters below. Men were still clustered between burnt-out carcasses of cars along those overpasses, brandishing machetes, kitchen knives, and big sticks. I’m just glad not to have seen any guns. After that it was smooth sailing through virtually deserted streets to the airport.

It’s crowded here, with long lines at the Domestic Departures end of Terminal 3, and every seat filled with people waiting for later flights here at the International Departures end. Emma and Sarah have gone through the first security checkpoint to Check-In. I’ve been told to wait out in the Entrance Hall until 1:30, as my flight will not leave till quarter of five. But I managed to find an electrical outlet to plug in my laptop (the battery only lasts about 20 minutes these days) and am settled in for the long haul on the floor along the wall. Now that I’m here at the airport, I feel safer than I have in more than a day. My flight is as scheduled, as have almost all flights been in the last 48 hours. We’ve heard that they’re loading people on their planes as soon as they’re checked in and through security, instead of the usual loitering in the terminal, so that when the plane is cleared for take-off, they can leave immediately.

I was telling the girls, it’s been a long time since I’ve been this emotional about flying, maybe even since I left for Switzerland at 16. I’ve been doing my best to pull what my mother calls “the stoic Maryah act,” but one thing’s for sure: I’ll never be a war reporter! Yesterday was really scary, and no one knows if today and especially tomorrow (Friday) will be any better. I’m incredibly excited for Egypt right now. For the first time, people have a pride in their country and a sense of agency to improve it that I’ve never seen. At the same time, I worry that things may get far worse before they get better. I’m sorry to go, but also relieved.

As I leave for Jordan, let me also put to rest any concerns you may have about Jordan. As an expression of how different the conditions are in Egypt and Jordan, take demonstrations last Friday. While the Egyptian police met protesters with teargas and rubber bullets, the Jordanian police met protesters with Pepsi and sandwiches. They handed out a light lunch, King Abdullah went on state television and said he’d make some changes, people said, “We just wanted to know you were listening,” and they went home. In the last six years that I’ve been following Jordan’s politics, I can assure you that asking for the resignation of the Jordanian government is a normal thing for King Abdullah. It happens about every 6 months or so. Furthermore, anyone who’s been to both Jordan and Egypt can tell you that the situations there are completely different. Jordan is a relatively poor country, but it does not have the kind of abject poverty you find in Egypt, and certainly not on the scale you see in Egypt. Jordan is a stable country. None of my dozens of friends there are the least bit worried, which includes officials of both the Jordanian and American governments, activist bloggers, expats and ordinary Jordanians. There are always changes being asked for in Jordan, but the people know that King Abdullah has their best interests at heart, and they see things getting better all the time.