The news headlines are invariably dominated by the protests in Egypt,
Tunisia and Yemen. Egypt in particular is at the core of international
suspense. If Mubarak is successfully ousted, the protests will most
certainly spread to other countries. But for many pundits, the
surprising restraints of the security services also dominate their
thoughts. Is what is happening in Egypt and Yemen a slow motion replay
of what undid Ben Ali in Tunisia—that is, are the Generals refusing to
fire on unarmed protesters? If so, what implications does this hold
for Sudan, the next most probable country to which the protests could
spread—and if Sudan explodes, inexorably, the next country in line,
Ethiopia?
The Egyptian protests, which now dominate conversations here in Addis
Ababa, started out as a gathering of a small number of people on
Tuesday. No one really took them seriously at first. Demonstrations
have been banned in Egypt since 1981, when Anwar Sadat was
assassinated by Islamists and a state of emergency was declared.
Opponents of the regime, ranging from the tiny Socialists to the
menacingly massive Muslim Brotherhood, have intermittently tried to
defy the ban over the 30 years since, but their efforts “had drawn no
more than a few dozen or few hundred people in the past,’ according to
news reports.(There are some exceptions.) And until noon on Tuesday,
when a small number of people convened outside Cairo’s Supreme Court
building, the latest shot to brave the ban appeared to have been
slated for the same fate. But two things surprised the authorities:
the unusual intensity of the protesters and the speed with which their
numbers swelled in to the hundreds. The demonstrators, however, were
manifestly disenchanted by the turnout, “where are the Egyptian
people?” they hollered, as they headed to Tahrir—liberation—square,
Cairo’s equivalent to Addis’ Meskel square. Thousands responded by
joining them.
Normally, the Egyptian security and police would be expected to move
in quickly, cordon off the protestors, split heads and crack bones,
and if the need arises, shoot at will, and ferry off as many people as
possible—including passersby—to a detention center; where they
could be held indefinitely under the state of emergency law still in
effect.
Oddly, this was exactly what did not happen. The government’s response
was clearly mixed. The security forces moved to engage the
demonstrators when they were small in number, but as their number and
intensity increased, surprisingly backed off. Does this signal
reluctance on the part of the Egyptian Generals, as had happened in
Tunisia, not to fire on unarmed protesters? Have the Tunisian Generals
triggered a domino effect that is set to sway Generals in
authoritarian regimes? What happens in Egypt over the next few days
will determine the fate of many countries.
If the answers to these questions are indeed what thousands of
activists for democracy in authoritarian countries obviously wish they
are, the implications for Ethiopia, while admittedly remote, could not
be dismissed outright. No nation is immune to international trends
these days. But the prevailing consensus for now, which I share, is
that Ethiopian Generals would most probably not go the way of the
Tunisian Generals— regardless of what happens in Egypt, Sudan or
Yemen. The unique historical and psychological intricacies that bind
the Ethiopian Generals and the EPRDF leadership have no parallel in
North Africa and Yemen.
The similarities between the Ethiopian and Egyptian legal opposition,
however, is remarkable. An intractable feature of Egypt’s opposition
is their partition in to secularists and Islamists; which had always
prevented them from working together. In Ethiopia, the cluster runs
between ethnic and multi-ethnic opposition groups, who also so far
have been unable to forge a durable, potent and convincing alternative
to the EPRDF.(Though there is some potential in Medrek.) But as of
Wednesday, Egyptian secularists and Islamists, who had for decades
loathed each other no less than they had detested the regime, were
miraculously demanding change in perfect sync. No more were they
obsessing with which side was posed to gain more.
Tuesday’s protests were called by secular opposition groups through
social media—Facebook and Twitter. Islamists hardly noticed. By
mid-afternoon, when the protesters increased dramatically, Islamists
were joining sporadically, and by midnight, in large numbers (and
doing their best to be inconspicuous.) On Wednesday, they had for all
intents and purposes merged in the streets—propelling not only the
sizable labor movement to join them as well, but crucially, the
unaffiliated; who overwhelmed them all. And swiftly, what started out
as yet another botched protest by the hapless opposition metamorphosed
in to a leaderless people’s movement. Nothing symbolized this
transformation more than the hundreds of lawyers who joined the
protesters by breaking through a line of riot police who had cordoned
off the demonstrators at Thrir square.
The Egyptian government has almost helplessly looked on as the
protests gained momentum. And here again is a question that begs an
answer: could this because of an internal discord within the ruling
establishment? Perhaps. There are wikileaks cables that point in that
direction. But a definitive answer will have to wait. In the meantime,
much to the delight of the protesters, Cairo is rife with rumors that
Mubarak is set to go in to exile (which is discounted by most
analysts.) And this is in large part fueling passion and reinforcing
determination on the streets.
Could the legal Ethiopian opposition leaders try to replicate what the
legal opposition triggered in Egypt? “No,” firmly answered an
opposition official I queried. “There will be a massacre, and it will
also be the end of us,” he said. I could have been mistaken, but I
thought I had sensed alarm in his tone. The specter of the 2007
treason trials all over again could have unnerved him. And emotions
and fantasies aside, I must acknowledge the merits of his argument.
The horn has always been harsher, crueler, and colder than either
North Africa or Yemen. Thus, with legal opposition parties unable to
garner more than one seat in Parliament, let alone be an agent of
change, they seem to have withered to irrelevance; their role no more
expansive than providing a veneer of democratic process to the
autocracy of the EPRDF. Their crisis of legitimacy is set to deepen.
The consensus is that both the Tunisian and Egyptian popular uprisings
are leaderless. At their core, however, is astonishing cohesion,
sagacity of direction and purpose—at least, as far as dislodging their
Presidents are concerned. What has made this possible are the tens of
thousands of tech-suave under-30 youth—politically unaffiliated and
unideological— who have used social media—Facebook and Twitter—to
plan, strategize, mobilize and sustain the protests. They have
upstaged established opposition groups—-including the Muslim
Brotherhood. “It’s the youth that knows how to use the media,
Internet, Facebook, so they are (the most effective) players now (in
Tunisia and Egypt),” said Emad Shahin, a prominent scholar in the US,
to news outlets. And in both countries, while they loath the ruling
parties, they have no faith in the ineffectual oppositions either.
Thus the protests are too important to be left to the leadership of
the opposition. The youth have opted to take charge—peacefully but
persistently. And it’s working. Every time the government responds
with violence—however limited and restrained—more and more people
are joining them. Their moral fortitude—exemplified through their
non-violence— is galvanizing not only their peoples but the world to
their cause.
