Showing posts with label Revolution. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Revolution. Show all posts

Monday, October 10, 2011

The penetrated revolution -- By Firas Sawah


The following piece was written in Arabic by Firas Sawah فراس السّوّاح [AR], an independent Syrian scholar (from Homs, Syria) in the field of mythology, history of religion and biblical studies. It appeared [AR] on a Facebook page [AR] dedicated to him and his writings on September 17, 2011.

The penetrated revolution  
By Firas Sawah
In 1971 I went to the United States on a scholarship given to me by the International Organization, and I was then thirty years old. I arrived to the capital Washington, DC during the height of the youth revolution that has moved from Europe to America [, albeit] a bit late. It was a revolution that aspired to change the world at the time, and to undermine the political and economic structures of modern capitalism. Millions of young people who belong to families that are well-off had left their homes and their well being and started to roam around the country to demonstrate, sing and dance, not for the sake of any living needs they had, but in order to undermine the false American democracy and to be in the pursuit of justice in the world.  The beginning of their favorite song was: Power for the people. I marched with them and demonstrated against the Vietnam War. I attended their meetings and shared with them their evening sessions in front of their tents that they put up on the bank[s] of the Potomac River. I cannot forget that week during which demonstrators flocked to the capital from all over the country and surrounded the White House and the Capitol and other federal government institutions, and filled the city, which remained under their control for several days. 
Those scenes remained etched in my memory for a long time, and I wondered whether we were going to have a similar revolution in the Arab world. But the revolution was delayed and the memories and the hopes had faded, all until they were brought back again forty years later. That was when the movement of young intellectuals in Syria broke out. It was a movement that assured me that the vitality that defined the Syrian people throughout their history had not died out, but was more like a smoldering ember under the ash, and which was about to produce flames. I dreamt of a country-wide youth movement that would  re-create political opposition, starting from the street, and not from meetings of the educated political elites. But it soon became apparent to me that this movement (or revolution, as its people prefer to call it), and which snapped the first spark for the protests in the streets, demanding political and economic reform, this movement was born penetrated. This penetration came from several groups that followed the educated young people to the streets, working under the cover of their demands.
The first penetration was by Islamic fundamentalisms, which are known from their history not to have any tool in politics other than violence. And as violence inherently induces counter-violence, I appealed to the youth, in my first call to them on Facebook, to isolate themselves from this group. That's because the feet of both warring parties would crush and abort their noble movement. That was also because a misleading team from that group began to raise slogans inciting sectarian strife, which soon broke out in a number of neighborhoods and cities, and which turned into violent confrontations between the sons of the same country.
The second penetration came from a movement of protests with demands related to daily living needs.  Members of that movement did not care about a new law for elections or a new parties law, as much as they were interested in solving their economic problems. And since they belong to the least educated segments of society, they were easily amenable to the calls for violence that emanated from suspicious parties. So, they bore arms, and citizens of the nation faced each other in a war that has no winner. 
The third penetration was by the culture of revenge that is rooted in Arab psychology. In any confrontations between protesters and law enforcement forces, and during which adrenaline reaches its highest levels in the blood, there will be casualties on both sides. And those casualties increase with the excessive use of force by security forces.  This in turn leads to boiling in the street, with the only motive being revenge. The greater the number of casualties was on the civilian side the greater was the desire for revenge, and it became difficult to break that vicious cycle.
The fourth penetration came from a spontaneous movement by groups of teenagers who were thrown outside the educational system for a variety of reasons, and who were also thrown outside the weak labor market.  They found in the street movement a venue to vent their anger and their explosive energies of adolescence, and they organized themselves in gangs that threw rocks at security forces and assaulted public and private property.
The fifth penetration was by the so-called external opposition, whose representatives (whom you see on television screens) had left the homeland several decades ago, and have integrated in their new societies [abroad]. They acquired the nationalities [of the countries they settled in] and gave birth to children who grew up to become young adults who do not know Arabic and who feel embarrassed in front of their peers of their oriental [i.e. Middle Eastern] origins. And while I do not deny those expatriates the right to be concerned about issues in the motherland, or even the right to organize demonstrations that express their opinion abroad, I do reject their organized institutional work, that aims to steal the toil, the effort and the blood of the Syrian street, particularly since their opposition had grown up under the auspices of the Ottomans in Anatlya, and under the care of a Zionist forum in Paris, and the care of the State Department in Washington. And here they are finally asserting their identity and their belongingness by choosing Doha as a place for their meeting, before heading to the [Ottoman] Sublime Porte in Istanbul. The result was that this opposition gave birth to a mouse they called the Syrian National Council, whose goal, and which will be announced soon, won’t be anything but to seek foreign protection, or in other words: military intervention that aims to destroy the Syrian army on Israel's behalf. 
The sixth and the most dangerous of these penetrations came from that phantom party that issues names to label the Fridays [of protests in Syria]. I do not have sufficient information about this party to qualify me to describe it and to [further] characterize it. But I ask you: who gave the ninth day of September the name “the Friday to seek international protection”? If you do not know the answer, and you won't know, then it is time to reconsider, and to search for realistic solutions that would heal the bleeding wounds of the homeland and that would protect it from an impending disaster.
Reprinted from the: Baladna "magazine"


Monday, February 21, 2011

The Voice of Freedom, Loud and Clear From Egypt



The year 2011 was destined to be one fateful year in the modern history of the Arab world. Before the year started, the spark was ignited in Tunisia, and then the flag of freedom was raised high in Egypt. Millions of Arabs around the world were captivated and glued to their television sets holding their breath, hoping, wishing and praying for the outcome that everyone was dreaming about, to materialize. We all felt we were part of history, even if many of us did nothing really but to be alive at this time, to witness history being made before our own eyes. We were all Tunisians. Then we were all Egyptians. Then we are all Bahraini, Yemeni and Libyan. And we continue to be all of the above and more, all at the same time. Many of us are still trying to understand what all of this means. Many of us are still extremely anxious about the events as they continue to unfold in many areas of the Arab world. One thing is starting to come into focus, however, and that is, the voice of freedom has now become loud and clear in the Arab world. This is the message of this song from Egypt.

The revolution of Egypt taught the entire world what liberation means in Arabic: Tahrir. Some of the images you will see in the video appear to be from the renowned Tahrir Square (Liberation Square) of Cairo, which is one of the many places in Egypt where Egypt's heroes peacefully "fought their battle" for freedom. The song was recorded and filmed before former Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak stepped down. In the table below, you'll find the Arabic lyrics of the song (which are in the Egyptian dialect), along with a transliteration and an English translation. The credits for the song (as listed in the YouTube music video) are listed at the bottom of this page as well. The lyrics in bold below are verses from an Egyptian-dialect poem by Egyptian poet Abdurrahman Al-Abnoudi, and they appear in the song recited in the poet's own voice. They are from the poem titled "The Poem of The Square" (qasīdat al-mīdān قصيدة الميدان) (the square being of course, Tahrir Square).



Voice of Freedom
ṣot el-ḥorriyya
صوت الحرية
I went down and said I'm not coming back
nezelt w-ʼolt ʼana meš rāgeʿ
نزلت وقلت أنا مش راجع
I wrote with my blood in every street
we-katabt b-dammi f-kull šāreʿ
وكتبت بدمي في كل شارع 
We brought our voice to everyone who was not hearing ussammaʿna elli ma kanš sāmeʿ
سمعنا اللي ما كنش سامع
All barriers were shatteredw-takassaret kull el-mawaneʿ
وتكسرت كل الموانع
Our weapon was our dreams
silāḥna kān aḥlāmna
سلاحنا كان أحلامنا
Tomorrow was clear before us
we-bokra wāḍeḥ ʼoddāmna
وبكرا واضح قدامنا
We've been waiting for so long
men zamān be-nestanna
من زمان بنستنى
We were searching, unable to find our place
be-ndawwar meš lāʼyīn makannā
بندور مش لاقيين مكانا
In every street of my homeland .. the voice of freedom is calling
fe kulle šāreʿ fe blādī .. ṣot el-ḥorriyya b-īnādī
في كل شارع في بلادي .. صوت الحرية بينادي
In every street of my homeland .. the voice of freedom is calling
fe kulle šāreʿ fe blādī .. ṣot el-ḥorriyya b-īnādī
في كل شارع في بلادي .. صوت الحرية بينادي
We raised our head up high in the sky
rafaʿna rāsna fe s-samā
رفعنا راسنا في السما 
Hunger was no longer our concern
weg-gūʿ ma baʼāš bi-yhemmenā
والجوع ما بقاش بيهمنا
The most important thing was our right
ʼahamm ḥāga ḥaʼʼenā
أهم حاجة حقنا
And to write our history with our blood
we-nekteb tarīḫna b-dammenā
ونكتب تاريخنا بدمنا 
If you were one of us
law kont wāḥed mennenā
لو كنت واحد مننا 
Stop rambling and telling us
balāš terġi we-tʼollenā
بلاش ترغي وتقلنا 
To leave and abandon our dreamnemši we-nsīb ḥelmenāنمشي ونسيب حلمنا



And stop saying the word "I"
w-baṭṭal teʼūl kelmet anā
وبطل تقول كلمة أنا
In every street of my homeland .. the voice of freedom is calling
fe kulle šāreʿ fe blādī .. ṣot el-ḥorriyya b-īnādī
في كل شارع في بلادي .. صوت الحرية بينادي
In every street of my homeland .. the voice of freedom is calling
fe kulle šāreʿ fe blādī .. ṣot el-ḥorriyya b-īnādī
في كل شارع في بلادي .. صوت الحرية بينادي
Tan Egyptian hands of distinction ayādi maṣreyya samra .. līha fet-tamyīz أيادي مصرية سمرا ليها في التمييز
Extended out amidst the roar .. shattering the frames mamdūda weṣṭ ez-zaʼīr be-tkassar el-barawīz ممدودة وسط الزئير بتكسر البراويز
The marvelous youth went out .. and turned the automn [of Egypt] into spring ṭeleʿ eš-šabāb el-badīʿ .. ʼalabu ḫarīfha rabīʿ طلع الشباب البديع قلبوا خريفها ربيع
They brought about the miracle .. they brought the murdered back to life we-ḥaʼʼaʼu l-moʿgeza .. ṣaḥḥu l-ʼatīl me l-ʼatl وحققوا المعجزة صحوا القتيل من القتل
Kill me .. By killing me you won't get your regime back ʼeʼtelni .. ʼatli mā ḥayʿīd dawletak tāni اقتلني قتلي ما هيعيد دولتك تاني
With my blood, I destine my homelands to a second life bakteb be-dammi hayāh tanya le-awṭāni بكتب بدمي حياة تانية لأوطاني
Is this my blood or is it spring .. Both are green in color dammi da walla r-rabīʿ .. le-tnain be-lon aḫḍar دمي ده ولا الربيع الاتنين بلون أخضر
Do I smile of my happiness or my sorrows we-babtesem men saʿādti walla aḥzāni وببتسم من سعادتي ولا أحزاني
In every street of my homeland .. the voice of freedom is calling fe kulle šāreʿ fe blādī .. ṣot el-ḥorriyya b-īnādī في كل شارع في بلادي .. صوت الحرية بينادي
In every street of my homeland .. the voice of freedom is calling fe kulle šāreʿ fe blādī .. ṣot el-ḥorriyya b-īnādī في كل شارع في بلادي .. صوت الحرية بينادي
In every street of my homeland .. the voice of freedom is calling fe kulle šāreʿ fe blādī .. ṣot el-ḥorriyya b-īnādī في كل شارع في بلادي .. صوت الحرية بينادي
In every street of my homeland .. the voice of freedom is calling fe kulle šāreʿ fe blādī .. ṣot el-ḥorriyya b-īnādī في كل شارع في بلادي .. صوت الحرية بينادي
In every street of my homeland .. the voice of freedom is calling fe kulle šāreʿ fe blādī .. ṣot el-ḥorriyya b-īnādī في كل شارع في بلادي .. صوت الحرية بينادي
In every street of my homeland .. the voice of freedom is calling fe kulle šāreʿ fe blādī .. ṣot el-ḥorriyya b-īnādī في كل شارع في بلادي .. صوت الحرية بينادي

A screen short from the video clip. Graffiti on the wall reads "The street is ours"
Credits: Sout Al Horeya - Hany Adel. Amir Eid; Guitar: Hawary; Keyboard: Sherif Mostafa; Composition & Lyrics: Amir Eid; Music Producer & Sound Engineer: Hany Adel