Society and Culture

the fusion and fission of cultures i.e. local perceptions of a foreign film, lessons from overcoming language barriers, cultural implication of immigration in the EU

Security and Conflict Society and Culture

Resilience in Tahrir Square

written by thegeneration

By F.A., Commentary from Cairo, Egypt.

Night cloaked Tahrir Square as the lampposts cast a dim light over the thousands of people gathered in the vicinity. Street vendors and food carts made their way between groups of protesters. We attempted to weave our way through the crowds with boxes of supplies to the heart of the square where protesters were setting up field hospitals. It was the night of the “Millionnaya,” or “Million Man March” on November 22nd. The sky was prickled with banners listing demands and calling for the step-down of Tantawi. Young men dangled from light poles waving Egyptian flags and calling chants that were echoed from below. While the square itself remained fairly safe, the real battle blazed on Mohammed Mahmoud Street, a street leading to the Interior Ministry. A line had been cleared leading from the main street through the square and down Mohammed Mahmoud Street. Every other minute, ambulances, cars, and mopeds carrying the injured zipped through the road. At the first ring of the ambulance siren, the crowd would part and the vehicles would maneuver through the crowd, narrowly missing stray protesters. During the intervals of calmness, groups of young men, their faces concealed with gas masks and plastic glasses would march into the very heart of the battleground. As they walked, they chanted anti-SCAF (Supreme Council of the Armed Forces) slogans. Some of them would return in ambulances during the night, shot in the eyes with rubber bullets or choking from toxic tear-gas the police had released.

One young demonstrator recounted to me the set-up of the street. The police had drawn three lines: crossing the first resulted in tear gas, crossing the second resulted in a spray of rubber bullets, and crossing the third resulted in live ammunition. He himself had stood in the front lines tossing Molotov cocktails. He told me of a man who desperately wanted to throw his Molotov cocktail, but had no hands to reach and grab them. He explained that he had lost both hands as a result of police brutality during the revolution in January. So he grasped the bottle between his wrists and flung it towards the police.

Any protesters in the vicinity of Mohammed Mahmoud street, even those protesting in the square itself (which remained largely peaceful throughout the event), could be subject to wafts of teargas said to contain extra chemicals that resulted in anything from itchiness, to fainting spells and seizures. In the words of many I’ve met, “the government is trying to poison the people.” Those exposed to the gas could be seen with a layer of white dust coating their faces–medicine applied on the face to stifle the sting of teargas.

Police corruption and sheer abandonment of public duties, not to mention exaggerated use of force towards demonstrators, has made protection of the public a collective duty in Egyptian society. In the media, shocking images emerged of police officers beating injured, peaceful protesters and throwing dead bodies in trashcans from the early days of the recent demonstration.

For days, the street leading to the Interior Ministry remained a battleground between protesters and policemen eager to use teargas and rubber bullets. Eventually, the military intervened to form a barrier between the police and demonstrators. Yet this move only came after at least 40 civilians were killed and thousands were injured through police brutality.

The ruling Military Council continues to attempt to stifle calls for a transition to civilian governance. They continue to play a waiting game, resisting demands as demonstrations ebb and flow in Tahrir Square each week. Any changes in government are internal, rearranging leadership by merely recycling politicians and players from the old regime.

A dwindling number of demonstrators continue their sit-in of Tahrir Square. Many of them are families of those who had lost their lives in the protests. Others are protesters that have been injured and have been denied the health care promised by the government. Reports of violence from the square are often attributed to “Baltagaya” or “thugs” that are said to be infiltrators sent by the government, meant to internally cause problems within the demonstrations. Harassment of women during the protests has also been attributed to their presence. These are all attempts to disperse the crowds and discourage the people from attending demonstrations.

While the disillusionment with the current situation can be felt, there is a resilience that brings the people back to Tahrir Square week after week. In many ways, the revolution continues and undermining the long-established military institution is its challenge.

February 5, 2012 7 comments

Security and Conflict Society and Culture

Egypt: Remembering the old and approaching the new

written by thegeneration

By Sallie Pisch

The Generation welcomes its newest contributor, Sallie Pisch, to the team! Sallie currently lives in Cairo, Egypt, and is an extremely talented writer. Exactly one year after the January 25 uprising in Egypt, she reflects on the overall situation on the ground in Cairo. The following video was put together by Sallie using her personal video clips that she filmed on January 25th.

Egypt is approaching the one-year anniversary of the January 25 uprising that sent shockwaves through the region and captured the attention and the hearts of the world. But has anything really changed in the Arab world’s most populous country?

Walking the streets of Cairo, it’s hard to tell.

Africa’s largest city, home to roughly 20 million, is still dusty and crowded. Emissions from cars long past their prime choke the air as those same cars, pedestrians, and the occasional donkey-cart choke the streets. Children still go to school; old men still sit in traditional ahwas drinking tea and smoking water-pipes; upper-class twenty-somethings still frequent trendy cafés and nightclubs and spend enough money nightly to feed a small army.

The changes are subtle, but they’re there if you know where to look: the colors of the Egyptian flag painted on bridge supports and curbs, anti-regime graffiti scattered across the city, BBC Arabic playing in a café instead of MTV Arabia.

In 2010’s parliamentary elections, voter turnout was roughly 10 percent (despite government claims that it was 25 percent). In the first round of parliamentary elections in 2011, voter turnout was roughly 60 percent.

There were irregularities in the 2011 elections – polling stations opening late, illegal campaigning on election day, the use of religious slogans. But there were no reports of ballot-stuffing and no one died as a result of scuffles between supporters of opposing candidates.

What’s more, even those skeptical of Egypt’s transitional process know there IS a process. In 2010, many Egyptians didn’t even know parliamentary elections were happening. Today, from cab drivers to political gurus, every Egyptian knows who the political players are and what they think of them.

This is perhaps the most important change, and the thing that will keep Egypt moving forward despite the challenges: today, Egyptians care.

Regardless of how the political process moves forward (or doesn’t), no one can take back the feeling of national pride Egyptians felt during those 18 days of demonstrations in 2011. For the first time in decades, Egyptians found their voices.

When police forces withdrew from Cairo on January 28 after hours of bloody clashes with demonstrators, Egyptians stepped up to the plate. They organized neighborhood watch groups and checkpoints that were manned around the clock.

For the first time in their lives, young men who were born and lived their entire lives under the regime of Hosni Mubarak felt like their streets were their own, and watched over them with pride.

Egyptians remember that feeling. They also remember the apathy, helplessness and frustration they felt before. Many are still frustrated with what they perceive as an unfinished revolution, with many goals still unmet. But they no longer feel helpless.

That pride, as well as the memory of apathy, is what will sustain Egypt through a long, complicated and sometimes controversial transitional process.

January 24, 2012 0 comment

Society and Culture UCLA and the World

Oh the places you’ll go…

written by thegeneration

By Tom Dziadkowiec and Meghan Casey

On Thursday, January 28, 2010 the UCLA Burkle Center for International Relations hosted its annual international career panel. Four highly respected individuals came together to share their experiences in international affairs with the UCLA community. From the rural regions of Uganda, government offices abroad, to Washington D.C. and Santa Monica, each individual brought stories of accomplishment and instilled feelings of aspiration to the packed 6^th floor room in Bunche Hall.

Richard Walden is CEO of Operation USA, a Nobel Prize Winning Relief Organization based locally in Culver City, CA. Walden earned a B.A. in economics from the University of Pennysylvania and and attended the Wharton School of Finance. Later Walden went on to earn a J.D. from the University of Pennyslvania Law School. He began his career as a human rights lawyer and worked for California’s Health Facilities Comission. In 1979 Walden organized relief efforts in war-torn Vietnam and was responsible for sending one of the first cargo planes carrying aid supplies to the region. During the Panel, Walden was critical of “umbrella funds”, such as the recently established Clinton-Bush Haiti Relief Fund. He argued that these funds create an unncecessary middle-man and delay aid from reaching receipitants. While Operation USA maintains a relatively small budget, it effectively delivers relief aid to communities affected by disasters and poverty.

William Davis is the current Director of the UN Information Center in Washington DC. Davis discussed the tools aspiring students need in order to pursue a career in international relations. After earning his BA in Political Science from Duke University, Davis went on to earn a Master’s in Public Policy. Davis emphasized the importance of earning a Master’s degree because it allows students to narrow career goals and develop marketable skills. Davis used his experience as a Presidential Management Fellow to emphasize the importance of networking, which he argues is key to obtaining desirable positions when competing with more qualified applicants. He added that overseas experience can go a long way in bolstering marketable skills, which are imperative in today’s job market.

Robert Banks is an experienced Foreign Service Officer and Professor of Public Diplomacy at the University of Southern California. He is also USC’s current U.S. Diplomat in Residence. Banks earned his B.A. and M.A. from Boston College and later received his doctorate from Oklahoma State University. He has nearly thirty years of experience working in various countries, including Korea, Nicaragua and Germany. When Banks discussed his own experience with the Foreign Service Examination, he noted that it required a lot of studying and knowledge of current international affairs. Banks spoke in detail about the skills needed to be successful at the State Department. Students who are interested in working for the State Department need to possess strong writing skills because Foreign Service Officers spend most of their day writing. Just as William Davis mentioned, international experience improves a job applicant’s marketability.

Last but not least, Nicholas Smith, who is a current graduate student in the African Studies Program, discussed his microfinance loan program in the Kibale District of Uganda. Smith began his microfinance program, The Buseesa Community Development Center (BCDC), with help from a few small grants and a group of nuns in Uganda. BCDC is helping nearly 45 families through loan assistance (primarily to women). The program is already succesful and is enabling families to send their children to private schools. BCDC’s microloans also help families purchase valuable resources like cows, which are important status symbols in the community. Smith advised students to learn languages and to travel to the regions in which they are interested. These skills and experiences will allow students to focus their career paths. Smith added that these experiences will give students the initiative to achieve their own goals.

Below are several resources discussed by the panelists. The Burkle Center for International Relations would like to thank the speakers and those who attended for helping make this panel a success.

Other websites of interest:

www.interaction.org NGOs and their role abroad

www.careers.state.gov Employment directory for the state department

http://careers.state.gov/students/

www.kiva.org Site for those interested in providing loans to developing regions

kulakowski@spa.ucla.edu Ed Kulakowski, UCLA School of Public Affairs Diplomat-in-Residence

February 18, 2010 0 comment

Security and Conflict Society and Culture UCLA and the World

Haiti: A Disaster Still Felt, One Year Later

written by David Taylor

By Adriane Wynn and Lindsay Gilchrist

On March 20, 2011, we boarded a plane and headed for Haiti. We had just finished our second quarter at the UCLA Luskin School of Public Affairs and hoped to do something meaningful during our spring break. We decided to work with a U.S.-based nonprofit called All Hands Volunteers, which focuses on disaster relief around the world.

From the plane, Haiti resembled the images of Caribbean countries commonly found in travel magazines. The green, rolling mountains were surrounded by the crystal blue Caribbean Sea. As the plane descended, however, the sprawling city of Port-au-Prince came into view and the large tent encampments provided a stark reminder of the January 2010 earthquake.

From Port-au-Prince we were shuttled to the All Hands base camp in Leogane. The 20-mile drive took almost two hours. Many of the main roads were still damaged from the earthquake. The deep cracks combined with heavy traffic required some creative driving methods. To avoid looking forward, we glued our eyes to the windows, taking in the sites. Passing the local vendors and the banana tree-lined streets, we admired the colorfully decorated trucks known as “tap taps” that serve as taxis. The large number of collapsed buildings and the piles of concrete lining the streets shocked us. It seemed odd that, in many cases, one building would be fully intact and the building next door would be completely destroyed. During our six-day stay in Haiti, we would become intimately connected to a few of the country’s collapsed buildings.

We were happy to arrive in Leogane, a city of approximately 134,000 people. Located near the epicenter of the 2010 earthquake, the United Nations reports that 80-90 percent of Leogane’s buildings were heavily damaged. Found on the northwest corner of the city, the base camp is an open-air, concrete structure filled with bunk beds and space on the roof for tents. Volunteers sign up daily for projects that include helping with transitional school building, partially damaged home demolitions, Bobcat operation, Biosand Filter construction and installation, and residential rubble removal.

As short-term volunteers, we chose to help remove rubble from residential areas, an activity referred to as “rubbling.” Our first rubbling experience took place on Tuesday afternoon at a site called Stanley, named after the property owner. We loaded our wheelbarrow, sledgehammers, shovels, wire-cutters and a water cooler into a tap tap and climbed in. The drive through town gave us a glimpse of both the earthquake’s devastation and the bustling of lives struggling to return to normal. We drove past markets with a variety of vendors, weaved through traffic filled with cars, tap taps, and motorbikes, and passed pedestrians and uniformed school children.

We arrived at Stanley and unloaded our equipment in the full heat of the afternoon. Where a home once stood now existed piles of broken cement and gnarled reinforcement bar (rebar). Our goals were to break apart the rubble with sledgehammers, remove the rebar, shovel the pieces into a wheelbarrow, and carry them out to a pile on the street. We were given a quick sledgehammer tutorial and then set to work on the thick slabs. While we removed debris we began to find the remnants of a home. There was a rocking chair, a dining room table, and a picture frame. In the bathroom we found soap bottles and a razor. A few children stood on the periphery hoping to help out where they could. We struggled to hold back tears as a relative of the owner began sifting through the piles to see if anything was salvageable. Throughout the week, at three different sites, we continued this process of pounding and carrying away cement.

Since the earthquake, All Hands volunteers have removed 14,000 cubic meters of rubble from 194 sites for 230 families. Despite the progress in Leogane, rubble removal is desperately needed throughout many areas of the country. According to the UN Development Program, as of January 2011 only one fifth of the total debris has been cleared. The existence of rubble sites makes it difficult for families and cities to rebuild and move forward.

On the car ride back to Port-au-Prince we tried to take pictures of the scenes we missed on our arrival: the crumbled Presidential Palace, the election signs, and the rows of sugar cane that seemed to stretch for miles.

Now that we are back in Los Angeles and close to completing our first year of graduate school, we often think about our short time in Haiti. In particular, we think about the local volunteers that worked alongside us, the amazing All Hands staff, the new friendships we formed, the long, sweaty days in the sun; and about the rubble at Stanley.

Adriane Wynn and Lindsay Gilchrist are both Master of Public Policy candidates at the UCLA Luskin School of Public Affairs.

May 26, 2011 0 comment

Security and Conflict Society and Culture UCLA and the World

A New Era for the Muslim World

written by thegeneration

by Abeer Gaber

I felt an extreme sense of relief, along with my fellow Americans, when I heard the news that Osama Bin Laden had finally been brought to justice for his horrendous crimes. Islam advocates accountability and justice, and they have been delivered. I feel strange celebrating the death of a person, even if that person is one of the most evil and cowardly people who ever lived. However, I understand the need of those who lost someone on 9/11 to celebrate the retribution of the person responsible for their death.

On September 11, 2001, I was in my first week at an all-Catholic high school, Bishop Alemany in Mission Hills. High school, as one can imagine, is a place where one struggles to find his or her identity. This was made difficult as the only Muslim in an all-Catholic high school, and even more so when an ‘adherent’ of the religion I practice has just committed one of the worst atrocities of the 21st century and besmirched the name of Islam within a matter of hours. This is not to take away from the horrible losses people suffered on 9/11, but just to preface the guilt-by-association I felt afterward.

The attack happened in the morning as my brother and I were getting ready for school and my mother was getting ready for work. We had a couple of televisions on at the same time in different rooms. One was turned to the ABC7 news network, and the other Al-Jazeera Arabic. I saw Al-Jazeera first and, as a result, I initially thought when I was seeing the Twin Towers disintegrate that it was in some Arab country. I had never heard of the Twin Towers before, so I had no idea they were in New York until I saw them on the ABC7 network. I also had no concept of what a real terrorist attack was, especially on that scale. I had heard about small suicide bombings in Palestine and Israel, but their significance never resonated with me until I witnessed this attack on American soil. Although I was still able to make friends and succeed in high school, I have worked ever since to combat misconceptions about Islam. This is a mission that every Muslim has for the rest of their lives.

I am a practicing Muslim who was raised with the basic tenets of Islam. The horrific attack and the hatred of the participants was nothing like the Islam I was familiar with. All my life, either through my family or my Islamic center, I learned about community service and giving back and helping others. When my family and I immigrated here, we had very little and my parents worked their way up and were able to achieve the “American dream”. I was constantly reminded to be appreciative of what I had. In my opinion, this is the essence of Islam – to appreciate everyone and everything that you have because it could be taken away from you at any moment. There is also an emphasis on constantly striving to be the best person that you can be, even if those around you are tempting you to be something else. We are taught as Muslims to respect one another and to respect the sanctity of life. In Islam, the most precious thing is a life.

Before September 11, 2001, there was little knowledge of Islam in American mainstream media. This is despite the fact that Muslims of all nationalities and races have been living here for a long time. Many of the Africans who were forced into slavery when they were brought to America were originally Muslim. Thus Islam has been a part of our nation from the very beginning. There are Muslims who were born into the religion, who converted, or who were ‘born again’ later in life. There is no one categorization of a Muslim man or woman.

Osama Bin Laden and Al-Qaeda have tried to cultivate an idea of Islam in which Muslims are called to violence to reach their aims. It is ironic that his death came around the same time as non-violent protests in Egypt, Tunisia, and Yemen. I think this juxtaposition will be helpful in clearing up misconceptions about Islam. Whenever someone thinks of Osama Bin Laden or Al-Qaeda as the face of Islam, they can be reminded of these non-violent protests in which people gave their lives trying to achieve the same freedoms that Americans fought for during the Revolutionary War.

Abeer Gaber is a Master of Public Policy candidate at the University of California, Los Angeles.

May 8, 2011 1 comment

Society and Culture

Royal Wedding, Royal Expenses: Why Monarchies Still Exist and Still Should

written by thegeneration

By Frida Alim

For the fashion-interested like myself, the array of hats, Louboutin heels, and, of course, the lace-accented Alexander Queen wedding dress provided a feast for the eyes. For the non-royals, the union of Kate Middleton and Prince William gave us the opportunity to live vicariously with a backdrop of royalty from around the world.

But in the months leading up to the wedding, the expenses involved were being relentlessly researched and the royal family was under pressure to put forth a sophisticated but relatively modest wedding. Those who believe the existence of a powerless monarchy is frivolous delighted in the opportunity to criticize lavish spending on the wedding in the context of England’s, and indeed the world’s, economic status. In fact, the royal family fronted a large portion of the wedding tab, with Queen Elizabeth II hosting the reception for 650 guests and Prince Charles hosting the dinner for 300 guests. In addition, those staffing the reception and dinner were already employed by the monarchy.

As for the wedding venue, the use of Westminster Abbey was free of charge, and the short distance between the abbey and the palace made security costs considerably less than the wedding of Princess Diana and Prince Charles. The declaration of the day as a national holiday, however, cost England approximately £6 billion in productivity, only offset by an approximate economic boost of £1.6 billion from the local activity surrounding the wedding.

This economic cost naturally begs the question of whether a state-funded monarchy, the recipient of approximately $60 million per year from taxpayers, should still exist and continue to be funded. With 3 billion viewers worldwide, the wedding certainly indicated a degree of both domestic and international interest in the royal family. Perhaps this stems from interest in a relic of the past, the glory of old, and vicariously living through the luxury of a royal lifestyle. A monarchy also provides a stable factor in the context of incoming and exiting politicians, a ceremonial figurehead and a common and unifying national symbol. But amid the anti-royalist tendency to dismiss the monarchy as “powerless,” many forget the profound power inherent in the spotlight constantly cast on the royals.

While there are those whom have either hidden in the shadows or emerged onto the scene in scandal, there are also those who have publicly come out in favor of very important causes. Notably, Princess Diana did considerable charity work, being among the first high-profile individuals to work with victims of AIDS, while also working to ban landmines, for which she later won a Nobel Prize. Preceding the wedding, Prince William set up a charitable gift fund, and has asked that all gifts for the wedding to either go towards the fund or towards any of 26 selected charities. In addition, he currently works closely with Centrepoint, a homeless charity in London, and the Royal Marsden Hospital.

In Sweden, Swedish Crown Princess Victoria started a fund in 1997, which works toward establishing recreational activities for children with disabilities. This fund is the focus of her annually televised birthday celebration, which garners millions in donations each year. In addition, she plays a key role in promoting Swedish businesses internationally.

Using relentless media attention, these individuals often make good use of the spotlight to draw pubic attention to under-funded issues that lack the necessary public awareness. While the funding of monarchies should perhaps be revised, the preservation of monarchies serves to maintain a unique culture and history, while also continuing to grant the authority essential to the work done by many high-profile royals in bringing awareness to various charitable and humanitarian works.

May 1, 2011 0 comment

Security and Conflict Society and Culture

Egypt: Past, Present, and Future

written by thegeneration

By Abeer Gaber

I was born in Egypt and immigrated to the U.S. with my family when I was four years old. My mother is one of ten children and comes from the countryside where there is a village named after her family, while my father is one of three and was born in the city. Many of my relatives from both sides are still living in different parts of Egypt and other Arab countries in the Middle East. Having talked to them about their experience in the recent weeks, their opinions are all over the spectrum. Although, they each have a deep love and respect for their country, they are very sad about how things have deteriorated. Egypt has a rich and diverse history, from before the pyramids to the present. Egyptians have a lot to be proud of, and the older generations can remember a time when the situation was much better in Egypt. University and general education fees were once next to nothing and the Egyptian currency was strong against the dollar. My family comes from all socioeconomic backgrounds, but all have had to deal with elements of Egyptian corruption. Navigating society and the job market largely depended on one’s contacts, not one’s work, thus contributing to widespread unemployment.

Under such conditions, many wonder why it took the Egyptian people so long to come together and rise up against their dictator. However, many Americans may not know that the last three Egyptian presidents, Hosni Mubarak, Anwar Sadat and Gamal Abdel Nasser, were all high ranking military officers and thus heroes in their own right. Their military leadership and service in Egypt’s wars in the 1950’s, 60’s and 70’s garnered both respect and fear. After Sadat was killed, the constitution was suspended, enabling Mubarak to put the much despised security laws into place when he took power. These give the Egyptian police almost unlimited authority to do whatever they see fit in any situation. Over the years, this has meant the arrests and incarceration of many young and old, male and female, rich and poor, Muslim and Christian, who are, at times, not heard from again. My mother still remembers walking in Cairo early in the morning on September 6, 1982 when the city lights were shut of and she could see security forces in front of almost every building taking people away. Historical instances such as this instilled great fear in the people, preventing them from coming together in great masses to protest.

In the words of Thomas Jefferson: “when the government fears the people it is liberty and when the people fear the government it is tyranny.” This has especially been true in Egypt. This recent protest has truly instilled a hope within the people for a better and brighter future. Although Mubarak’s stepping down was an important first step, the people are worried about if and who of his corrupt ministers will fill his shoes. Having spoken to many in Egypt, there are several alternative ideas as to who should be the Foreign Affairs and Education Ministers. Citizens of Egypt have a lot of creativity and talent, and they are hoping for a true transition to democracy in which they can put it to good use, rebuilding a society where one’s position is based on merit not on who they know.

As Egyptians in the U.S., many of us with family remaining in Egypt, we have been greatly affected by recent events. My family and I were constantly calling all of our relatives to ensure that they were in good health. We were constantly worried the government would overtake and massacre the protestors, especially the day that the police forces and pro-Mubarak protesters were attacking journalists and hurting people with cameras. We were afraid they were going to attack at night while everyone was sleeping. We knew that if protestors left Tahrir Square before Mubarak stepped down, nothing would change, protestors would be killed, and the greatest fear into anybody ever thinking of protesting again.

Several of my family members participated in Tahrir Square. My cousin camped out and remained there from the beginning to the end – becoming hungry, tired, and losing a great deal of weight in the process. My family was very concerned about him. However, despite how scared we were, I was overcome but the overwhelming sense of humanity in my relatives’ experiences. My aunt and another cousin also went to Tahrir the Thursday before Mubarak stepped down and were greeted with kindness by the other protestors. They were treated with respect when their bags and IDs were checks and were offered food, water, and a place to sit. They felt a sense of organization in the chaos. It seemed people in the Tahrir Square had created their own world. One’s religion, age, gender or social status didn’t matter; everybody came together as one to speak out. This was a testament to how great humanity could be in the toughest times. Throughout this revolution, especially after protestors succeeded in getting Mubarak to resign, my family and I were never as proud to be Egyptian.

Above Picture Used with Permission:
by Jonathan Rashad

March 11, 2011 0 comment

Security and Conflict Society and Culture

Live from Tahrir Square

written by thegeneration

By Drew Brammer

Since my arrival in Egypt last August, I’ve sensed the resentment felt toward Mubarak’s rule. Yet neither any Egyptian, nor I could have predicted the series of events that would ignite a revolution.

I originally chose to come to Egypt to learn Arabic. Egypt is ideal for this goal as it is the most populous Arab country as well as the leading exporter of regional culture and cinema. Moreover, the Egyptian-Arabic dialect is understood throughout the Arab world. I’d also be lying if I didn’t say the Pyramids played a factor.

I remember reading about the revolt in Tunisia and seeing my Egyptian friends praise the Tunisian people on Facebook. Shortly after the successful overthrow of the regime in Tunisia, I traveled to Morocco on vacation. Having limited internet access as I traveled, I was relatively clueless as to the importance of the protests on January 25^th, which later became the official start of the revolution. Friends and family suddenly flooded my Facebook account with messages like “Please say you’re safe” and “Are you coming home?” Meanwhile, many of my Egyptian friends were calling for continued protests. Not having much time to read up on the protests, I was sure peoples’ worries were exaggerated and continued my plan to return home to Cairo the following day.

On the night of January 27^th, I arrived at the Cairo airport. The taxi drivers, who normally asked 50 E£, were now asking 200 E£. We thought that seemed a little ridiculous, so my friends and I opted to take the bus and metro. Although things seemed normal as I returned home to my apartment, I soon discovered neither my cell phone nor internet worked. My roommate Sami informed me that the government had just cut both off in an effort to squash the protests. At that moment, I began to realize the gravity of the situation.

On the morning of the 28^th, even if I hadn’t been watching CNN the night before, I would have known something was wrong. The normally hectic streets of my neighborhood, Dokki, were completely empty and would not return to normal for a long time thereafter. Shortly after awakening, I heard shouts from outside echoing down the street. I quickly ran to the balcony and saw that riot police had blocked off all entrances to Tahrir Street as well as the Al Galaa Bridge leading to Tahrir Square.

Not sure of how to react to the protests, I stayed in my apartment and decided to take advantage of the view. I watched as riot police retreated and regrouped by Al Galaa Bridge.

As Sami and I watched CNN, we looked out from our balcony to see the progress of the protests. At one point, we heard a roar of cheering outside and ran again to the balcony to see a wave of people running towards Al Galaa Bridge.

It was at the square in front of this bridge leading to Tahrir Square where protesters and riot police clashed. The stalemate lasted for hours as crowds pushed everyone closer to the no-man’s land that was the square. Meanwhile, the riot police fired tear gas to keep a safe distance between the crowd and themselves.

Eventually, the protesters pushed the riot police further back across Al Galaa Bridge and successfully gained control of the square. At that point, I decided to leave my apartment and take a look at what was happening on the ground. I found a mixture of anger and happiness, but mostly happiness, as people celebrated the advances.

People stand on the monument of the square in front of Al Galaa Bridge.

A child cries from the tear gas.

Two women with face masks.

Despite the burning sensation in my throat and eyes, I felt perfectly comfortable walking around Dokki, where just an hour earlier police had been firing tear gas. Curious, I decided to brave the freshest tear gas on the bridge just so I could see any new developments that had not been visible from my apartment. I found many young people climbing all over two empty police vehicles, waving flags.

As I headed further across Al Galaa Bridge, a man came up to me and offered me an onion. The man explained, “Put this in your nose and it will protect you from the tear gas. Try it, it works!” I thanked him and as I held it up to my nose to test it out. Suddenly, the crowd ahead of me began to stampede toward me. Juggling my camera and a piece of onion, I dropped the onion and took off running, struggling to record the stampede heading toward me. By the time I finally managed to film the events, I had already made it back to the square in Dokki.

Despite my warm welcome by protesters, I decided I didn’t want to be caught between protesters and riot police. Once you cross Al Galaa Bridge, you are trapped either on the bridge or between large walls for almost a mile until you cross Qasr Al Nile Bridge into Tahrir Square. With the crowds of people, it can be dangerous, especially when people begin to stampede.

We went home and continued to watch the situation unfold on CNN. At nightfall, I heard a loud explosion outside and ran to my balcony. I could see two police cars engulfed in flames. CNN had announced that things had quieted down in Tahrir Square, so I decided to see for myself. I could spot the ruling party’s headquarters engulfed in flames from a distance.

Cars, mostly police vehicles, that were in the way were also set on fire.

Despite the constant sound of gunshots nearby and seeing Molotov cocktails being thrown on the other side of the square, it felt oddly calm. Perhaps it was the scarce amount of people left compared to earlier or the surreal feeling of seemingly being in a war zone at night. It could have even been the entrancing effect of the dancing flames all around me.

The only thing that worried me was peoples’ words. Everyone was much more distressed than earlier as they began to fear what the protests would portend. I received mixed messages from Egyptians as to whether they wanted me to document the events. “No! No!” an older man would say, fearing future reprisal as I held up my camera. “No picture!” In another instance, a younger man walked by me saying, “Take picture! Take picture of this!”

“Where are you from?” someone asked as they came up to me. I’ve always been told never to say I’m from the United States. Even though I didn’t suspect it was a problem, I blurted out “France.” (This was the only time I felt uncomfortable revealing my nationality. Later I did at every other occasion). I started rolling the video but he did not want to be seen on camera.

Although you cannot see very well, you can briefly hear the cries of a young man who was shot in the eye. Although he is conscious in the video, his eye is swollen and blood is pouring out of his face. He squeals as people carry him away on a motorcycle. Unfortunately (or fortunately) due to the lighting, you cannot see anything.

A man approached me urging me to leave Tahrir Square because it was unsafe. At that moment, a stampede of protesters spooked me and I started recording.

Before the military moved in, protesters began to set up barricades to keep tanks and cars from moving in and out. They grabbed sticks and poles, and began to bang the metal banisters in sync almost as if this was a song of war. I decided to seize this opportunity to exit and head back to my apartment. On my way across Qasr El-Nil Bridge, a crowd was gathered overlooking the underpass, cheering the Egyptian youth who had overtaken two police convoys and were cruising around and picking up other teenagers for the thrill of it.

Another man reprimanded me for taking pictures of them, so I took off, heading back toward my apartment in Dokki. On the way home, I crossed multiple people carting home office chairs as well as carrying boxes, all of which I assumed were from government office buildings. Others must have assumed the same as no one paid any attention to these looters. I had trouble sleeping that night with gunshots echoing throughout the city.

The next day was probably the most unsettling of the whole revolution. Outside, the streets were empty, which was surreal for normally bustling Cairo. I awoke early to my cell phone ringing as the mobile networks had just come back online. As my friends and I began to check up on each other, I alternated between long phone conversations and watching the news. With Mubarak’s government still clamping down on the internet, these were my only links to the outside world.

Exhausted, I had fell asleep while watching CNN and awoke again after sunset. The media reported that all police had disbanded and citizens had formed neighborhood watch groups to protect their neighborhoods from looters. The most disturbing news of the day, however, was that inmates from a prison southwest of Cairo were running wild after an alleged attack. From my balcony I could see my neighbors armed with anything from metal poles to bats. The police they had so ardently fought against now were nowhere to be found… or were they?

Many Egyptians believe, and in many cases it was proven true, that the police from that point on became troublemakers. Dressed in plain clothes, they could stir up violence and instability in order to frighten people into rejecting the protests in favor of a restored safety under Mubarak. The neighborhood watch had set up checkpoints throughout the neighborhood to stop looters and criminals from traveling freely through the neighborhood after curfew. I watched the neighborhood gradually become more organized throughout the night. At first they just stood outside their homes and tried to stop the occasional vehicle by standing in the street. By the end of the night, they had made physical barriers with concrete blocks and large metal sheets or poles, which enabled them to routinely stop cars and motorcycles to ask for ID and search for stolen goods. My neighbors revealed to me they were mainly checking the profession listed on the ID, to catch any plain-clothes police officers looking to cause trouble.

—

Photos are the author’s own.

March 10, 2011 0 comment

Society and Culture The International Economy

Pakistan Beyond the Headlines

written by thegeneration

By Anum Iqbal

Reading The New York Times or The Washington Post, one would think that life in Pakistan has come to a complete standstill. How can people function amidst all the terrorism and corruption? Bomb blasts and shootings have become a daily occurrence. Yet people adapt, no matter how unusual or how chaotic the situation. Daily life in Pakistan survives and continues to preserve normalcy despite hardship. Pakistani society is multifaceted just as any other, but with huge income disparities between the upper, so-called “elitist,” class and the rest of the population. Although I have grown up more fortunate than many in Pakistani society, I can nevertheless attest that life in Pakistan remains strong despite what is printed in American media.

When I introduce myself to people at UCLA and tell them where I am from, they immediately question how I have been able to live in such a country. I always reply fondly, leaving most with confused expressions on their faces. Can I blame them? When they hear of Pakistan, they hear about the bomb blast in the northern province of Peshawar, or the murder of well-known politicians such as Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto or the Governor of Punjab, Salman Taseer. While these tragedies greatly affect Pakistan and shape its international perception, now more than ever before, they do not define the life led back home.

Pakistan is a hotbed of political tension. However, the issues that are primarily presented in the media, such as those of terrorism and suicide bombers, are not ones that impinge our daily activities. Although security threats always exist, people get on with their lives as much as possible. Most Pakistanis are concerned about and affected by the same issues: the lack of governance by the democratically elected government, the state of the economy, and the levels of poverty. Nevertheless, life carries on for all segments of society, from fruit vendors with carts on street corners trying to make ends meet to university graduates about to start jobs at multinational firms.

Pakistan has recently faced severe natural disasters. The earthquake in 2005 and the floods this past year have really shaken the country and tested the strength and perseverance of the people. The media’s portrayal of these events has depicted the country as unable to cope with such catastrophes, and has highlighted the level of corruption through sketchy and inaccurate reports of the emergency aid usage. While this may be the case, these depictions usually omit the profound ability of the people to come together and attempt to make a difference on more local scales. After the earthquake left thousands dead and millions homeless, privately funded camps were set up across the country to collect aid materials, which were then transported by the people themselves, rather than left solely to the hands of the government. Similarly, after the floods this past summer, numerous private organizations were formed, which are still working to rebuild the villages destroyed in the affected regions. Students from high schools all over the country have visited various flood sites to provide hands-on assistance, such as painting a new school building. Meanwhile, the adults have helped them organize many fundraisers to raise further funds and draw awareness from all regions.

I am privileged to come from a rather liberal sector of society, where most parents send their children to privately funded English schools and most students eventually study abroad in countries like the U.K. and U.S. Students like me lived in a largely Western-influenced bubble, not truly affected by the rampant inflation and rising unemployment caused by the corruption and political turmoil in the country. This reality made our lifestyles back home very similar to the ones we now lead here in the U.S. The Pakistan I know and love is a country with a rich moral system and an even richer culture. Unfortunately, the Pakistan that is portrayed in the media is not a full representation of the country, and leaves the nation and its citizens widely misunderstood. The political chaos takes attention away from the things that I treasure most about my country: the hospitable nature of the people, the delicious traditional food, and society’s strong familial ties. It is now the duty of my generation to showcase all this and more so the world can see the real Pakistan, the Pakistan I grew up in and miss dearly.

February 21, 2011 2 comments

Society and Culture UCLA and the World

The World Revolves Around Washington, D.C.

written by thegeneration

By Julienne Lauler

Upon my supervisor’s request, I attended an event last week at the United States Institute of Peace (USIP) here in Washington, D.C.; it was the launch of a report titled “Local Justice in Southern Sudan”, documenting the local judicial systems in southern Sudan ahead of January’s referendum for southern secession. Glancing at the title (and length) of the report, I anticipated a tedious and bore-inducing presentation, and filled my coffee cup to the brim in preparation for the hours ahead. I took a seat in the front row, because presumably falling asleep would be difficult if the speakers were in close proximity.

Upon sitting down, however, the event became tremendously more exciting, and my fears of falling asleep mid-discussion were nulled. The reason for this sudden change of heart? Occupying the seat next to me was none other than Dr. Akec Khoc Acieu, the Sudanese ambassador to the United States.

January 10, 2011 0 comment

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