More on renaming the hall...

I just read an article that appeared in the New York Times last week (two days after I introduced Nuruddin Farah in that room) about the process of renaming the many Egyptian institutions that bear the Mubarak name, and it included this account from the university:

Gigi Ibrahim was about to inaugurate a free speech program at the American University in Cairo when the name etched in gold across a heavy beige marble plaque hanging outside the hall stopped her in her tracks: H. E. Suzanne Mubarak Conference Hall.

So Ms. Ibrahim, 24, having cut her teeth as a political activist at Tahrir Square, immediately applied the lessons learned about direct action, found a screwdriver and took it down with a friend’s help. “When we saw it we thought, ‘Well this just needs to come down,’ ” she said, although officially the name holds.

Link to Khalidi lecture

Since I blogged about Rashid Khalidi's lecture a few weeks ago, I wanted to let folks know that a variation of the speech is available online at Jadaliyya.

Guns

Saturday afternoon, around 2pm, I was getting on the subway headed downtown. On the platform, I see two guys talking, and one is holding a large cardboard box. He opens it and shows his friend his new purchase—a rifle (still in the plastic in the box). I do not know enough about guns to say anything about it, but it was surprisingly casual and not at all secretive.

Personal firearms for protection seem to be proliferating in Cairo. I see advertisements for them at the local store. Mainly, I think, people are buying them to protect their homes, feeling that the disappearance and distrust of the police and other state security forces makes it necessary for folks to take personal security into their own hands. I am not a big fan of guns in the hands of police or civilians.

The room formerly known as...

The Somali novelist Nuruddin Farah was in town this week, and I had the extraordinary honor to introduce him during a lecture on campus. His lecture was scheduled to be held in Suzanne Mubarak Hall, a conference room named for the former dictator, which the university administration has been unwilling to change. The best approach, suggested by a colleague during a list-serve discussion of this point, seemed apparent: it was incumbent upon anyone speaking in this auditorium to comment on the name. I thought and wrote long and hard—really for several weeks—over what I should say and how I should say it. I wanted to be unambiguous, but economical. And I did not want to distract from the speaker. It really consumed me for a period of time.

Part of what I came up with was:

The name reminds us of the shameful relationship of this institution to the former regime, and, in some cases, our own silence and complicity. And it may serve as a symbol that the extraordinary work undertaken by so many Egyptians during the past two months remains, at this moment, incomplete as long as vestiges of the former regime remain among us. While the name of this room represents some of the most troubling aspects of this university, tonight’s speaker reminds us of it at its best...

Nothing special, really.

Then two things happened.

One—some of us talked about it with Farah over lunch before the lecture, and he felt that there was merit to keeping the name because it provides an opportunity for reflection. This is based on his experience living in South Africa, where he explained many buildings have the names of former apartheid leaders. These names become important mementos of terrible history. His was a valuable experience, indeed.

Two—sometime after 3pm, I learned that the name plaque had just been removed from the conference hall. I even walked down there to confirm. Here is a photo distributed on a faculty list-serve:

The name around which I had organized my introduction was obsolete. Thankfully. But without explanation. So I had one hour to rethink and rewrite the introduction I spent weeks contemplating.

Part of my revised introduction:

Our joy on this occasion is heightened by noting that this is, I believe, the inaugural event in the newly renamed P0071. And while the change may serve as an important symbol of the extraordinary work undertaken by so many Egyptians during the past two months, I hope that the erasure of the former name does not cause us to forget the troubling relationship of this institution to the regime, and, in some cases, our own silence and complicity. As our guest pointed out to us earlier, based on his experiences in South Africa, where he lives, such sites provide opportunities for important public conversations about our shared history (which is why I mention it now).

Much the same sentiment, I think. And I guess the lesson lies somewhere in the notion that one must never be silent, and must always speak up, regardless of the name on the door.

Interior Ministry fire

There was a big fire at the Interior Ministry yesterday, which you can read about in your local newspaper. The building is a block away from where I had my Arabic tutoring session, so I stopped off to see what was happening this afternoon. Quite a bit of damage as you can tell. There was a sizable demonstration of mid-level police officers outside. It is not clear who is responsible for the fire, but in many of these instances, it appears to be an attempt to destroy evidence.




There were still a number of people in the street as you can see here. The tanks are not in the picture.
















I was not sure what these folks were doing on the roof right above the wall.

Election results

If you ever needed a reason to take anything I write advisedly, you can take the election results. The constitutional amendments were approved with 77% of the vote. Even though most folks I know voted “no,” my personal polling was not a sound prognosticator (not unlike what I saw in the US in 2004 when everyone I know voted for Kerry). The turnout was 55%, which is quite impressive and encouraging. Many people want economic stability, and feel like the way to achieve that is by moving forward as soon as possible. For one provocative analysis, you can see Sandmonkey’s blog here.

I did have a taxi driver on Saturday night (the evening of the election), who was extremely enthusiastic in his opposition to the amendments. He was a young guy, originally from Fayoum, who had a tribute to the January 25 martyrs hanging from his rearview mirror. So when I asked him why he voted “no,” he simply told me “Midan Tahrir.”

Constitutional Referendums

Today is a big day—the constitutional referendum. Egyptians will go to the polls—many for the first time—to vote yes or no on an amended constitution. The issues are complicated on many levels. Most of the activists and opposition groups have endorsed voting “no”; the Muslim Brotherhood leadership came out in support of it but a youth faction has come out in opposition. Actually I can say that I don’t personally know of anyone who is voting “yes.” All of my students said they are voting “no.” I can’t read too much into it because I know that the people I know are not necessarily a representative sample.

There are several issues which motivate the “no” folks. One of the major ones is that the amendments maintain the provisions for emergency rule which has been in effect for the past 30 years. For example, the amendment that allows for elected presidents to serve no more than two four-year terms, could be overridden by executive authorities which remain in place. Furthermore, it seems like the constitutional question has in many ways evolved into a referendum on military rule.

I have asked a few taxi drivers about the elections, and the most remarkable thing is their willingness to talk politics so openly. There is no consensus, but I did ride in a taxi last night whose driver told me he was voting “yes.” His explanation, to the best that I could understand it, was that Mubarak is gone, the people won, and he seeks as quick of a return as possible to some semblance of stability. Strong centralized military rule—at least in the short term—is considered by some to provide the best opportunity for that.

In my American Studies class, we read the US Constitution, and have recently been reading the Civil War amendments (13^th, 14^th, 15^th). One of the things I have discussed in class was the position of many radical abolitionists who burnt the Constitution at demonstrations and believed that amendments were not sufficient to change a document stained by slavery. In some ways, the question is similar here--whether or not to replace or amend Egypt’s 40-year-old constitution (which you can read in English here).

There are lots of other issues at play, which are beyond what I can explain. Some critics feel that it is too soon to vote on amendments, that the process should be more through, and take more time. You can find some insightful and detailed analysis online.

For me, one of the most remarkable things has been the expectation of high turnout. Given the opposition’s lack of confidence in the process, and the short time since its announcement, I was not sure what to expect. I imagined that a significant segment of the population that would express their opposition by declining to participate in an election they do not consider legitimate. On this point, I think I was starkly wrong. Everyone I have spoken to over the past few days is planning on going to the polls. (People can vote at any polling station they want by using their national identity card.)

In December 2005, I was in the Democratic Republic of Congo for their constitutional referendum, when many people were voting in a real election for the first time. It was exciting. A holiday was declared (as it is for tomorrow here). The process in DRC was more involved—voter registration was required. There was an international commission supervising the election. The Congolese constitution had been written over the course of several years following the installation of Joseph Kabila as head of a transitional coalition government (following the assassination of his father in 2001). It was overwhelmingly approved. There was little controversy, but the turnout was high. In many ways it was a dry run for presidential elections the following summer, which Joseph Kabila won in a run off. With the next presidential election approaching later this year, in January, Kabila pushed constitutional amendments through parliament, including one that will limit the presidential election to one round. The public argument is economic; however, this will clearly benefit Kabila by preventing the diverse opposition groups from forming a strong coalition behind the first round’s second place finisher.