It's hard to describe how traumatic this event has been, for all Egyptians. The outpouring of grief and anger has been overwhelming. Inconceivably massive demonstrations of Copts and Muslims are ongoing as I speak, uninterrupted since yesterday, in Cairo and Alexandria, including at the Cathedral, where my husband went this morning, only to find a chaotic mix of demonstrators, media and state security that made it nearly impossible to get inside. There's been intense, constant coverage in all the local and Arab media.
One thing you probably won't get in the Western coverage (kudos to barracuda for finding the excellent Egyptian blogger, Zeinobia): I have never, in all my life, witnessed anything like the feeling of national unity and solidarity between all Egyptians, of all ages and persuasions, that is sweeping Egypt at the moment. In all the demonstrations, people are yelling, "Long live the Crescent and the Cross!" The Crescent-and-Cross are everywhere, the old nationalist symbol imbued with new life.
I was afraid that Copts would be too frightened of a repeat attack to attend the upcoming Christmas Eve service on January 6, but now it seems that not only the Copts, but a large number of Muslim Egyptians will be filling the churches that night. In addition, Muslim young people from all over Egypt are organizing themselves to stand guard around Egypt's main churches next Thursday, under slogans like, "While some Egyptians pray inside, other Egyptians will stand outside to protect them," and "We will live together or die together."
It's remarkable, as though this horrible, senseless, truly sadistic atrocity was so painful that it finally woke Egyptians up. There has been unprecedented self-flagellation by Egyptian Muslim writers in the independent (non-state) media, like in that essay by Hani Shukrallah that barracuda posted. A lot, not just in newspapers but also on live television. So much that at times I feared that it would backfire by making some Copts feel even more victimized than they already do. I am hopeful, though, that, on the contrary, the barriers that have been slowly been rising between Copts and Muslims in Egypt are being torn down again.
Meanwhile, the government is bearing the brunt of the greatest anger, across the board. Many Copts blame the regime for nurturing disunity between Copts and Muslims via unfair laws and by trying to bolster its non-existent legitimacy with a veneer of fake religiosity that made many Copts feel uniquely disenfranchised, while in reality it is all Egyptians, Copt and Muslim, who are disenfranchised under this incredibly corrupt, incompetent dictatorship. In the run-up to the sickening farce of the recent parliamentary "elections" and afterward, the government had been brutally cracking down on freedom of expression, silencing critics and threatening independent media with closure. This attack has opened the floodgates, and the Egyptian opposition has come out of its corner in a fighting mood, and calls for democratic reform are drowning out even the calls for catching the criminals responsible. Even if, as most Egyptians believe, those responsible are external enemies, the fact remains that there are serious weaknesses within Egypt's body politic that may have given its enemies the idea that Egypt is ripe for the picking. If so, I think they've made a big mistake.
Speaking of fighting moods, during the mass funeral of the victims this afternoon, there were thousands of mourners in the enormous church of Mare Mina near Alexandria, and a row of high-level government officials, including the governor of Alexandria, sitting in a front pew. When, as is customary, the officiating priest thanked the government for their condolences, the mourners began shouting abuse and there were even some attempts to attack them. The officials seemed uncharacteristically cowed and ashamed, and kept their eyes down. The priests were forced to surround them and protect them with their own bodies, until their security guards were able to reach them and get them safely out.
In fact, the regime itself seems shaken and uncertain and somewhat defensive; the momentum and the energy are, right now for the first time that I recall, almost entirely in the hands of ordinary people and the opposition.
People are still very emotional, but I hope and pray that even after everybody's calmed down, we won't go back to business as usual. I know it's not comparable, but I keep flashing back to 9/11 and the spirit of national solidarity and love that briefly flourished in the immediate aftermath, before it all turned ugly. In the US, it wasn't given a chance to take root and bear fruit. Right now, this terrible crime has opened two windows, showing us two possible futures: one much worse and one much better than we Egyptians could have envisioned even 48 hours ago. Egyptians now seem to understand that it is up to them which one is opened wider, and which one is nailed shut.
