REJOICING REFORMATION
It is unique that I have been able to cover all these uprisings and revolutions during these few years. I am lucky—it is incredibly complicated to understand where you need to go when you’re on the ground, and I was lucky to have a lot of help. The protests were well under way when I got to Tahrir Square in late January, and their size and scope took my breath away: in three decades of visiting the Middle East, Ihad never encountered anything like this. There was huge fighting betweenthe pro-government supports and revolutionaries. Some of the journalists werebeaten. Some of them lost their cameras. They kicked me out once, but I managed toget back in the next morning. I saw a lot of families—not just young men orrevolutionaries—and everyone was helping each other, praying together. It was agreat time. Everybody was waiting for Mubarak to make the right decision, andsuddenly it happened. And it was so emotional: people crying, shouting,screaming…it was incredible. The next morning, it was over. The army was kickingeveryone out. They weren't friendly—there was a feeling of ‘You got what youwanted. Now get out.’ Of all the revolutions I came across, Egypt was the most special.
The mood at the Pearl Roundabout in Bahrain was very different fromTahrir Square. In the first days, I saw men in white robes approach police with flowers, offerings of peace: the response was tear-gas and live rounds. Therewas a huge difference between this army and the Egyptian army. People fromBahrain—there was no way they could even talk to the army who had arrived fromSaudi Arabia. There was no way for me to get to Pearl Square hence I watched what was happening from the hotel. There was one hospital where all the protesters were gathered together. Andthen the doctors did something incredible. Not all of them supported theprotesters, but they gave them shelter at the hospital and saved a lot oflives. I had a chance to go back to Bahrain after they demolished Pearl Square, a few weeks ago, and I saw young people who had lost one eye to rubberbullets. It was just so sad, and I just saw some of them. I know there were many more.
In Yemen, it was very different. There was no Facebook. Change Square was still packed, but the feeling of revolution was more religious, moreconservative. There was an invisible border for protesters to stay behind, and the army would shoot anyone who tried to cross this line. I saw so many youngpeople were ready to cross the line, marching to die. And around Change Square,there were hundreds of pictures of people who’d died. In Egypt, I saw protest signs and other things, but in Yemen, it was just pictures of young faces. Whether or not President Saleh will relinquish power, the political crisis inYemen will likely remain acute, not only because of its tribal culture and topography, but also because of its deep poverty, high illiteracy and birthrates, and deeply entrenched government corruption.
Libya was different because it was more of a civil war than arevolution. It was here that I met Mariama whom later I would address as MB.She was the one who helped provide a car with a driver, who drove me all alongthe Mediterranean coast. It was she who took me to the front lines near RasLanuf. It was near an oil refinery factory that was important for bothsides—both the rebels and government. I stepped in Ras Lanuf on March 11, whenGaddafi’s military could still fly, and they were flying around, dropping bombson the rebels. It was really scary for everybody on the front line. Suddenly you could hear the plane coming and the bombs hitting their targets. These menwere the shabab, young people who weren't professional fighters and didn't haveweapons or training. They’re not rebels, but eager to be on the front lines.They’re jumping because they heard the planes coming, so they’re running aroundtrying to find any place to hide, which was hard because everything was flat andexposed. It was just an incredible experience to be there.
Beyond these main four revolutions, I also traveled to watch closely the protests in Ireland and Tunis. I came to the conclusion that each revolution must be assessed in its own context, because each had a distinctive impact. The drama of each revolution unfolded separately. Each had its own heroes, its own crises. Each, therefore, demands its own narrative. In the end, the differences between them may turn out to be more important than their similarities, however. And the common thing about all these protests is the number of youngpeople who really want to bring changes to their country. That’s what’s most incredible. We have a new generation of people who are sick and tired of what’sgoing on. Call it the Islamabad Revolution, the Quaid's Pakistan or the Mothers' Revolution, there’s a powerful Sirocco blowing across the Arabian Sea flowing down into Indian Ocean, striking at sky-blue waters of Gwadar and oily black shores of Karachi, and the brave young people in my country realize there is yet another life ahead and they want to live differently now. (Bng)
Makran Coast: 27Mar17
It is unique that I have been able to cover all these uprisings and revolutions during these few years. I am lucky—it is incredibly complicated to understand where you need to go when you’re on the ground, and I was lucky to have a lot of help. The protests were well under way when I got to Tahrir Square in late January, and their size and scope took my breath away: in three decades of visiting the Middle East, Ihad never encountered anything like this. There was huge fighting betweenthe pro-government supports and revolutionaries. Some of the journalists werebeaten. Some of them lost their cameras. They kicked me out once, but I managed toget back in the next morning. I saw a lot of families—not just young men orrevolutionaries—and everyone was helping each other, praying together. It was agreat time. Everybody was waiting for Mubarak to make the right decision, andsuddenly it happened. And it was so emotional: people crying, shouting,screaming…it was incredible. The next morning, it was over. The army was kickingeveryone out. They weren't friendly—there was a feeling of ‘You got what youwanted. Now get out.’ Of all the revolutions I came across, Egypt was the most special.
The mood at the Pearl Roundabout in Bahrain was very different fromTahrir Square. In the first days, I saw men in white robes approach police with flowers, offerings of peace: the response was tear-gas and live rounds. Therewas a huge difference between this army and the Egyptian army. People fromBahrain—there was no way they could even talk to the army who had arrived fromSaudi Arabia. There was no way for me to get to Pearl Square hence I watched what was happening from the hotel. There was one hospital where all the protesters were gathered together. Andthen the doctors did something incredible. Not all of them supported theprotesters, but they gave them shelter at the hospital and saved a lot oflives. I had a chance to go back to Bahrain after they demolished Pearl Square, a few weeks ago, and I saw young people who had lost one eye to rubberbullets. It was just so sad, and I just saw some of them. I know there were many more.
In Yemen, it was very different. There was no Facebook. Change Square was still packed, but the feeling of revolution was more religious, moreconservative. There was an invisible border for protesters to stay behind, and the army would shoot anyone who tried to cross this line. I saw so many youngpeople were ready to cross the line, marching to die. And around Change Square,there were hundreds of pictures of people who’d died. In Egypt, I saw protest signs and other things, but in Yemen, it was just pictures of young faces. Whether or not President Saleh will relinquish power, the political crisis inYemen will likely remain acute, not only because of its tribal culture and topography, but also because of its deep poverty, high illiteracy and birthrates, and deeply entrenched government corruption.
Libya was different because it was more of a civil war than arevolution. It was here that I met Mariama whom later I would address as MB.She was the one who helped provide a car with a driver, who drove me all alongthe Mediterranean coast. It was she who took me to the front lines near RasLanuf. It was near an oil refinery factory that was important for bothsides—both the rebels and government. I stepped in Ras Lanuf on March 11, whenGaddafi’s military could still fly, and they were flying around, dropping bombson the rebels. It was really scary for everybody on the front line. Suddenly you could hear the plane coming and the bombs hitting their targets. These menwere the shabab, young people who weren't professional fighters and didn't haveweapons or training. They’re not rebels, but eager to be on the front lines.They’re jumping because they heard the planes coming, so they’re running aroundtrying to find any place to hide, which was hard because everything was flat andexposed. It was just an incredible experience to be there.
Beyond these main four revolutions, I also traveled to watch closely the protests in Ireland and Tunis. I came to the conclusion that each revolution must be assessed in its own context, because each had a distinctive impact. The drama of each revolution unfolded separately. Each had its own heroes, its own crises. Each, therefore, demands its own narrative. In the end, the differences between them may turn out to be more important than their similarities, however. And the common thing about all these protests is the number of youngpeople who really want to bring changes to their country. That’s what’s most incredible. We have a new generation of people who are sick and tired of what’sgoing on. Call it the Islamabad Revolution, the Quaid's Pakistan or the Mothers' Revolution, there’s a powerful Sirocco blowing across the Arabian Sea flowing down into Indian Ocean, striking at sky-blue waters of Gwadar and oily black shores of Karachi, and the brave young people in my country realize there is yet another life ahead and they want to live differently now. (Bng)
Makran Coast: 27Mar17
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