U.S. Trade Unionist Reports from Cairo

1. 'We All Know Our Way Back to Tahrir Square'(Feb 15, 2011)
2. An American Trade Unionist in Egypt: Cairo--Day One After
Mubarak (Feb. 12, 2011)

========== 

'We All Know Our Way Back to Tahrir Square'

By Carl Finamore

February 15, 2011

Published by Portside

CAIRO - As much as the Egyptian military would like it
otherwise, recent days have shown that they are a long way
from exerting control over the country's affairs. The
Egyptian people are not quite ready to put their dreams for
a better future on hold nor have their pent-up frustrations
put back into a box.

Certainly not since people's power just toppled a dictator
thought invincible only a few weeks ago.

The street protests centered in Cairo's Tahrir Square have
now spread all across Egypt, as labor unrest grows.
Thousands of workers belonging to local units of the
government-controlled Egyptian Trade Union Federation
(ETUF), who largely work in the public sector, are even
striking and protesting, right alongside their unorganized
brothers and sisters in the private sector.

In addition, new independent unions are forming. The latter
are determined to be democratically controlled by their
members instead of by a government and state constitution
that only recognized unions considered reliable and obedient
to the ruling politicians.

The numerous strikes and protests are telling us that the
people are not finished speaking. In the current climate,
there is no question their voices will not easily be
silenced by military threats to ban strikes, demonstrations,
and even unions themselves.

It's not hard to understand why. Egypt's workers have
suffered enormously under the country's long-standing neo-
conservative economic policies of privatization and
elimination of state social subsidies. The United States
government, the International Monetary Fund, and the World
Bank have promoted these policies since the days of Anwar
Sadat, Mubarak's predecessor.

As a result, there has been a tremendous growth in informal
sectors of the economy where workers have no rights, no
benefits and no contract rights. One young man I met at
downtown Cairo, Said, was working in this unrecognized part
of the economy. He was an English teacher by day, but had to
work evenings as a street vendor with his friends, other
teachers I also met, to supplement his 280 Egyptian pound
(less than $50) monthly salary.

This is not a unique example; actually, it is quite the
norm. According to the AFL-CIO, 40% of Egyptians barely
exist on $2 a day. This explains the startling statistic
that between 2004 and 2008 there were some 1900 work
stoppages and other forms of protest in Egypt involving 1.9
million workers. Obviously, the national uprising against
Mubarak was a long time in the making.

Beyond Tahrir Square Understandably, with events moving so
rapidly beyond Tahrir, I wanted to see if military efforts
to clear the square of all protestors signaled a downturn in
the movement.

So, I woke up early on Monday morning, February 14, and
hurriedly rushed to Tahrir, a twenty-minute walk from my
hotel through downtown Cairo, past the central Court
Building (now open) and past the revered Egyptian Museum
(still closed and guarded by the military).

Only the day before, thousands were still assembled in
Tahrir despite warnings from the army to leave the area.
But, as I got closer, I could not believe my eyes. For a
moment I actually had a difficult time getting my bearings.
On the previous two days after arriving in Cairo, I just
followed tens of thousands all heading in the same direction
and all arriving at the same location-a metaphor for the
immense unity of a nation.

Now, remarkably, overnight, the center of Tahrir Square was
completely empty. All the protestors were gone, the tents
and medical triage centers torn down and all the makeshift
barricades removed. In their place in the center of the
square hung a very large banner reading: "Egypt is Now
Happy!"

A few dozen smartly dressed, unarmed military police in red
berets somewhat casually stood guard around the perimeter of
this most sacred of areas. Only a few days before many
thousands bravely stood their ground here against organized
assaults by the police. Hundreds were killed and thousands
injured in this square. Stories of those 18 days before
Mubarak resigned are now a permanent and proud modern
chapter of Egypt's incredibly rich history.

So how was it that, overnight, all this was gone? Even more
important: What did it mean?

A Japanese journalist looked at me as we both gazed at the
same scene. Shrugging, with both his arms extended upwards,
he exclaimed, "It's over!"

I didn't think so. But I very much wanted to find answers to
my questions.

I began walking around the perimeter of the square where I
discovered several different assembled groups of around a
dozen or more people. Some were praying at hastily erected
altars honoring those who were murdered.  This was a very
moving and sincere tribute where total silence was
respected.

Other scattered groups were having heated and engaged
conversations that could only mean, in today's Egypt, that
they were talking politics. I approached one of the larger
groups and began asking questions and, again, I found people
ready to welcome me and ready to speak.

Of course, there were moments when someone would insist they
would only speak Arabic. I would respond with a "thumbs up",
showing that I recognized the pride people have in their own
language and culture and we would both smile and leave it at
that. On only a few other occasions, someone would ask, in
Arabic, if I was a spy. They would warn those speaking to me
that "Egyptians do not want the world to know our dirty
laundry." But always the majority defended me.

Was it a good thing that the protestors left the square? I
first asked a 27-year old well-dressed young businessman as
he stood alone gazing out over the Square. "Yes, what we
wanted came," he replied. "So why stay?"

Others echoed this view. "Yes, why not?" said 32-year old
Mahmoud, an unemployed accountant who is now working as a
chauffeur for a famous Egyptian academic. "I am glad the
people made the changes in a system we had for 30 years.
They did what we all wanted."

As I was taking notes, others began to come into our little
circle and participate. The discussion group grew bigger and
bigger. This happens all the time now whenever I stop to
interview someone. It reminded me of a remark I had heard
the day before, on Sunday, with Hamad, a 26-year old former
soldier and unemployed teacher who also works as a street
vendor.

"Before no one talked politics. Now we are free, everyone is
speaking," he told me.

Hamad also had an opinion on leaving the square. "It is good
to stay in the square because the protestors push our
demands." This was Sunday, early afternoon. But by Sunday
evening, support for that idea certainly dimmed after the
army announced that Parliament was being dissolved, the
hated Constitution abrogated and the ban on all parties
lifted.

"The president is gone, the parliament is gone, and the
constitution will be changed. No party is banned. Our
émigrés are returning. Let's celebrate, clean up the square,
and go home!" someone said in our group in very clear
English.

So much had changed in just 24 hours. But it was clear to me
that it was these concessions wrested by the movement from
the military that emptied Tahrir Square and not any fear of
government reprisals.

Day of Victory March Amr Taha, a 24-year old dentist who
holds dual American and Egyptian citizenship, had now
entered our conversation. He was one of the more experienced
activists from the very beginning. Amr  was arrested while
leaving a mosque on his way to a demonstration. "I was
arrested for intending to demonstrate," he told me with a
big smile on his face.

"A thousand of us were arrested on that day, January 28, but
we all escaped from the prison a few days later when the
police just disappeared." Later, Amr would show me a burned
down police station near his mosque, one of many such
examples of the people's fury toward the corrupt and brutal
police.

Of course, there are still several important demands that
have not been resolved, Amr emphasized. For example,
protestors have written and spoken publicly about wanting
all political prisoners released, the emergency decree in
effect since Mubarak took office lifted, and a definite
timetable from the military government for achieving these
political and even other economic goals.

"By leaving the square, the people are giving the army the
trust they earned by not attacking us, even though we all
know they did close their eyes to some of the police
brutality," explained Amr. "Anyway, if our demands are not
addressed in a timely way, well, we all know the way back to
Tahrir Square."

This is not idle talk. Protest leaders have called for a
massive demonstration on Friday, February 18, the official
day of rest in Egypt. Its size will be a test, once again,
of the current power relationships between the movement and
the army. I'm betting on the movement.

Suddenly, our talk was interrupted by people all around us
laughing and cheering as four large buses honking their
horns were seen quickly driving through traffic. The buses
were full of young people sticking their heads out the
windows smiling and shouting, "Thief! Thief! Thief"

Everyone knew what they meant. The dictator was gone and did
not even deserve to be called by his proper name.

[Thanks to my friend Mark Harris in Portland for helping put
this report together.]

[Carl Finamore is retired president of Local 1781 of the
International Association of Machinists (IAM) at San
Francisco airport. He is in Egypt with letters of
introduction from his local union and the San Francisco
Labor Council, AFL-CIO. Finamore can be reached at
[log in to unmask] While he is still in Cairo you can read
his brief updates on Facebook.]

==========

An American Trade Unionist in Egypt: Cairo--Day One After
Mubarak

By Carl Finamore

February 12, 2011

Published by Portside

CAIRO-I arrived at a nearly empty Cairo airport one day
after President Hosni Mubarak resigned, an act thought
unthinkable only 18 days ago. Over one million tourists left
Egypt in the last week according to the country's press
reports, so the hotels and streets were empty of visitors.

I, myself, was eager to see how a people's movement actually
was able to forge such a powerful movement in such a short
span of time. I was excited and exhilarated to be here.

I passed the presidential palace while on my way to downtown
Cairo and heard the constant car horn honking by passing
motorists celebrating Mubarak's departure. This gave me my
first indication that I was entering a city super-charged
with confidence and enthusiasm. I would see the same
excitement throughout the streets of Cairo on my first day.

In particular, I noticed how informed people were, how
willing everyone was to talk politics. Everyone seemed to
have an opinion. There was an explosion of dialogue about
what had happened and why it had happened.

And, I found out immediately that people were eager to speak
with me, absolutely no hostility. This was different from
the last several weeks as reported to me by a British
educator living in Cairo. I bumped into him as we both
shared a drink inside the bar of my downtown hotel, only a
20-minute walk from Tahrir Square.

"Today (Saturday, February 12), is the first day I actually
feel comfortable outside," my British acquaintance
explained. "Before, the government was trying to stir up
anger against foreigners by blaming them for the
demonstrations, and this gave thugs and police free range to
harass us."

So, I was quite free to explore the scenes of Cairo only 24
hours after Mubarak left the scene and, most important, to
observe the current thinking of the people. The most
interesting aspect of coming to Egypt amidst this historic
political awakening, for me, was to encounter the various
trends of thought as people experience for the first time in
their lives the ability to speak freely and to openly
express their ideas.

With Mubarak's resignation on Friday, February 11, the army
high command quickly declared that the "protestors had won"
and that the country's profound social and political
turmoil, therefore, must come to an immediate end. This
undoubtedly strikes a chord among many Egyptians who
genuinely believe the whole bankrupt regime, not just one
despised president, has collapsed.

Notably, most Egyptians I spoke with believe the military
has historically stayed out of politics, unlike the hated-
police apparatus. Many Egyptians will also tell you that the
army has not been tainted by the rotten legacy of
corruption. "Our army is honorable, they are not business
people," a 55-year old manager of a clothing store selling
Guggi and other top brands told me.

Questions in interviews reflected my skepticism about the
role of the army but, so far, I found general appreciation
for the army alike by protestors in Tahrir Square, people in
the adjacent poor neighborhoods, vendors and shopkeepers and
numerous men and women I spoke with while I was walking
around, including a distance away from Tahrir Square.

Unquestionably, decidedly favorable views of the military
saved the whole bourgeois political and economic structure
from imploding. In fact, the army was the only remaining
institution under Mubarak that enjoyed any semblance of
credibility in Egyptian society. Neither Mubarak, nor the
Speaker of Parliament, nor the Parliament itself, and
absolutely no sector of business whose crimes would make Al
Capone envious, nor any of the docile legal political
parties could have handled the transition.

Vice President Omar Suleiman, groomed to take over for
Mubarak, was also thoroughly discredited by claiming Egypt
was not ready for democracy. This infuriated a whole nation
and within a few hours of Mubarak's attempt to cling to
power, the old despot was gone and the army had superseded
Suleiman's new powers. What Next?

From a variety of occupations and neighborhoods, the
sentiment of the many protestors I spoke with is essentially
that we must now begin to rebuild our country. The country
is ours now, we want stability so we can build democracy and
restore Egypt's economic power."

A young man in his early thirties who was a manager of an
engineering firm across from Tahrir Square particularly
emphasized this. He participated in all the protests,
including being the first on his block to organize defense
of the homes and businesses in the early days of the revolt,
when criminal looters instigated by the government were on
the loose.

The pro-democracy activists who want to remain in Tahrir
Square until the decades-long state of emergency and other
political reforms are implemented will be isolated if they
stay, he told me. They don't represent the majority opinion.
As we spoke in a caf,, his younger brother, a student; his
sister, an artist; and their friend, a young Muslim woman
who worked for an insurance company, were all in agreement.

When I asked why they would support the army so much and did
not agree with continuing to occupy Tahrir Square, they all
responded in unison talking over each other. It was a
dramatic, emotional response and one repeated many times in
interviews on my first day in Cairo.

"Yes, we want to get back to rebuild our country," declared
the young manager. "But, we will return if we have to!
Everyone knows and understands this, including the army. Our
massive protests and the broad unity of all classes was a
warning to them. If they do not rapidly safeguard our
transition to democracy, if there are not genuine economic
reforms, then we will return. We are no longer afraid.
Hundreds have been killed and we do not forget their
sacrifice. Our movement is incredibly deep. There were
protests in 15 cities yesterday. This is why we belong at
work now and do not have to be in the square." The Beloved
Ground of Tahrir Square

The government, now under the firm control of the military,
clearly wants to move as rapidly as possible to establish
the stability they now proclaim as the country's most urgent
need. At Tahrir Square I saw evidence of this when several
dozen army troops began pushing and shoving protestors away
from the barricades built several weeks ago during the worst
of the police attacks. Hundreds of families with young
children scattered, but a large core of obviously
experienced protestors locked hands and urged people to
stay. The message was, "It is our Square, where blood has
been shed, we will not leave."

At the same time, all across Tahrir Square, hundreds of
Egyptians could be seen sweeping and cleaning the beloved
scene of their most valiant sacrifices and most profound
victories. Something hallowed and honorable happened in
Tahrir and really throughout Egypt, and it has deeply
penetrated the hearts and minds of millions of Egyptians.

A 24-year old doctor, locking his arms with hundreds of
other young people as the troops attacked only 25 yards
away, refused to leave and was urging others to "Stay, don't
worry, do not leave." He responded to my question of why
Tahrir Square was being cleaned by simply turning the
question back to me, "If your house is dirty, don't you
clean it?"

My encounter with this young, brave doctor and his comrades
in Tahrir Square revealed something important to me. First,
deservedly, there is an extreme sense of pride by protestors
for what they have achieved, leaving many to consider Tahrir
Square as almost sacred ground. Second, they understood
throughout their 18-day struggle leading up to Mubarak's
resignation that it was only the growing size and public
nature of the protests in the square that made the movement
powerful.

There are many opinions now on the streets of Egypt. The
seeming contradiction of wanting to get "our great country
moving again" with the mass movement "wanting to maintain a
public presence" is what spawns divided opinion in these
first free hours on how to move the country forward. We
shall see how majority opinion develops on these and other
critically important political issues facing the future of
the Egyptian revolution.

One thing is certain. The freedoms won in the last few weeks
gives Egyptians the opportunity to democratically decide
their future with a new confidence. The people are no longer
afraid. No doubt that reality in itself must frighten those
who long profited from the old regime, both in government
and business, and who now may want to reestablish their own
idea of "stability" in order to return to the past.

[Thanks to my friend Mark Harris in Portland for helping put
this report together.]

[Carl Finamore is retired president of Local 1781 of the
International Association of Machinists (IAM) at San
Francisco airport. He is in Egypt with letters of
introduction from his local union and the San Francisco
Labor Council, AFL-CIO. Finamore can be reached at
[log in to unmask] While he is still in Cairo you can read
his brief updates on Facebook.]

==========

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