A truce that was negotiated in the early hours of Thursday morning has held all day. It was strengthened when the military brought in a crane, which erected a barrier of large cement blocks on the street where the fiercest clashes have broken out. The real question, of course, is why the military waited five days before implementing this very simple solution.
When I went to have a look for myself, I was prevented from entering the street by a thick rank of men who had linked arms to keep people from filling the street. I eventually made my way in through a side street after showing my press ID. I was amazed to see the street had been swept clean. The night before it was strewn with concrete chunks, metal barricades and the detritus of shop shutters and wires. The first image above, a Reuters shot, will give you a small sense of how cluttered it was. The second image is from this morning, when I made my way in. After volunteers had swept the street clean, Mohamed Mahmoud street was probably the cleanest street in Cairo.
I got to the barricade in time to see soldiers standing on top. Several protesters had joined them and the mood was friendly. One minute, a chant of “Leave, Leave” went out. The next minute, they were chanting “One hand, One hand.” Everyone there understood perfectly that the first chant was directed at the country’s top generals; the second at the soldiers stationed on the street.
But the truce almost collapsed in one spasm of violence which was a reminder of how tenous calm is in an agitated crowd. As the crane lifted another concrete block onto the barrier, one of the protesters standing atop it began to push the block away, sending it swinging around. Immediately the crowd began yelling at them to stop and get down, but soldiers began to panic and push people off of the barrier. Angered by this, a few people began throwing stones, sticks and whatever was around at the soldiers as the crowd began to scatter.
The truce could very easily have collapsed at that moment. The soldiers fell back behind the wall of concrete blocks and I waited for what I expected to be an inevitable round of tear gas. Stones continued to fly over the barrier. But then a few protesters climbed back up onto the concrete blocks and yelled at the crowd to stop throwing, even as debris was being chucked inches over their heads. Others joined them atop the barrier and soon the scuffle had calmed.
Within a few minutes, a phalanx of doctors had mounted the barrier and were calling on people to go back to Tahrir square. Over the next hour, a chaotic and stormy contest was waged between those who wanted to mount the barrier and press their attack and those who wanted to preserve the calm. Imams from al-Azhar staged a series of marches back to the square, each time bringing a wave of people with them, away from the hostility.
I saw at least three mid- to high-ranking military officers appear on the wall (one is pictured above), talking with the protesters and asking them to move away so that their soldiers could return to the barrier. Someone I was standing next to assured me that the older, higher-ranking officer I saw was a member of Scaf, but he was at the opposite end of the barrier, out of range of my phone’s camera. I am skeptical that any of them would appear on the street at that moment. But he was certainly old and dressed in the olive uniform.
As the everyone-calm-down crowd gained the upper hand, young men began to set up human chains, keeping protesters from getting within 20-30 feet of the barrier. The human chains developed, from one line to two, then three. Someone found a series of metal bars that were used to prevent people from pushing their way between two people in the chain. When the bars proved successful, more were found and brought to other human chains on the side streets, where ranks of young men had been keeping out nearly a hundred people trying to shove their way in. A few people refused to leave, but within an hour the area had cleared out substantially. Doctors continued to man the barrier.
It was a fascinating bit of crowdsourcing 1.0. Nothing more than people, all together, all disagreeing, all arguing, finding a way through it by yelling, shoving, thinking and then acting — sometimes together, sometimes against each other. Ahmed Samer, 27, stood by me the whole time, practicing his English as I practiced my Arabic, making sure I knew what was being said. It was a powerful demonstration of why Egyptians are so proud of their revolution and, like the human corridors set up in the last days to rush casualties to hospitals, an example of what can be accomplished by people eager to pitch in and willing to take risks quickly in moments of sudden chaos.
There are bitter accusations being thrown around now that the Muslim Brotherhood has “infiltrated” the demonstrations and are trying to keep people out of Mohamed Mahmoud street as part of a ploy to somehow undermine the protests. There is no doubt that many of the doctors who manned the army’s barrier sported the typical “Islamic” beard. But in this country that means little. I have found myself talking to what I assume to be a young, educated, westernized youth, only to find he supports the Salafist al-Nour party. Likewise, I have talked to traditionalist and conservative Muslims who want religion out of politics.
It seems more likely that what I saw in front of the barrier today was ordinary protesters working through the confusion caused by the latest round of violence. For now, those calling for a peaceful protest have won. Everyone there wanted the SCAF out, without hesitation. But many people were ready to extend an olive branch to the ordinary soldiers, whose appearance helped stop the endless stream of casualties that emerged from this little street over the last five days.