Finally, the day of the great reveal is here. Then it's gone again. Postponed again.
Parliament, controlled by the Muslim Brotherhood, had been dissolved, or stripped of its powers. It has been made irrelevant by military decree. Morsi has won the elections. People say Shafiq will nonetheless win the elctions due to ballots ma7sheya (stuffed ballots). The Brotherhood have rediscovered Tahrir as a platform for voicing their opinion. They threaten not to be violent.
Some article in the transitional constitution states that the results of an election must be announced up to three days after the polls are counted. This is the fifth day. Ballots ma7sheya can't take that long to make. I sit, smoking, in Zamalek, following the developments in front of a room fan, the smoke a whirlpool of nicotine, tar and ash. Twitter is more concerned with developments in Sudan, rather than focusing on local non-developments. Sudan is in revolt? Didn't they just partition the country?
What are the Sudanis on about?
“Let's go to a Pool Party in Muqattam” she says. Inside, I cringe. We go. “No politics, no alcohol and no drugs.” As we drive past Tahrir on the flyover, I notice the masses there. I yearn not to be there, but for that, I would have to jump out of a car. I consider it for a moment. I don't ask them to stop.
We arrive in the breezy hights of the hill on top of the Cairo Citadel, far removed from the idea of revolution. The biggest sign is a poster for Abo El Fotouh, left over from the first round of the elections. Behind the gates of a villa, a manicured English garden awaits us. We are quickly surrounded by youthful Egyptians, who have either just graduated from University, or are about to. Many want to leave the country. We talk music, we talk the world and the state of Europe, we write cheesy love notes to the host, whose birthday it is.
I sneak a peak at twitter, see gunshots and violence happening in downtown. I have the feeling I am in the wrong place again. I don't want to be here. I am. We sing Wonderwall twice. We jump in the pool for about a quarter of an hour, then lounge on the lawn for hours. No politics are discussed, save for “There's some kind of big demonstration in Masr Elgedida. Something to do with the elections”.
I understand why these youth don't want to engage in political discussion today. Tomorrow should be, SCAF willing, D-Day, or P-Day. Tomorrow, Egypt will have a new president, and they must be tired of political machinations, twists and turns. They must be so disillusioned with the political process, barely a year and a half after the uprising.
From what I can tell, apart from a heightened and vocal distrust, occupations of Tahrir for this reason or that and many, many elections, not that much has changed in the political sphere of Egypt. Thse same conflict rages on, between the same parties, unabated, as the Brotherhood and the Army continue their decades- long conflict. Now the choice has been made, will be announced, between those two. The nerves of a country are being put to the test.
Later, someone reminds me that "Democracy is not getting what you want. It is voting for what you want and accepting the will of the majority."