By MICHAEL SLACKMAN
CAIRO — Hosni Mubarak is the only leader most Egyptians have ever really known, so while he remains disliked for how he ran the country, there is an undercurrent of discomfort here with how he has been treated since being forced from power.
There is no survey to prove this, and those who feel a touch of sympathy for the former president tend to say so under their breath, like Salma Sowellem, as she visited an art show recently: “Shhh, I don’t want my boyfriend to hear, he’ll get mad. But Mubarak, he’s an old man. He’s sick. His sons are in prison. That’s enough.”
But the sentiment is very much part of the complex mix of emotions that have overwhelmed this nation as it struggles to reconcile with the past and move into the future, to balance calls for revenge against demands for justice. Egyptians are still not sure if they should pursue South African-style reconciliation, an Eastern European-style hunt for collaborators or just try to forget it all and press on.
They know they have to start at the top.
“He was like God, and we still keep saying that he is ruling Egypt, even though he has been arrested,” said Hussein Hanafy, 44, as he stood with a group of friends near downtown one day discussing the situation. “I have not seen anyone but him for 30 years. I won’t just forget him overnight.”
And then summing up a sentiment repeated over three days of interviews here he said: “I feel sorry for him. But he is not innocent.”
Mr. Mubarak was president for nearly 30 years, and in that time he engaged in the alchemy of a typical autocrat, transforming his mortal identity to that of near deity — or in the Egyptian context, pharaoh. His picture was not only posted everywhere, but to destroy or deface it was a crime.
And then he was gone, and even some who cheered his fall found themselves disoriented by the loss of the most familiar feature of their national landscape.
“Nobody is happy with what he did,” said Mona Yousef, as she left her dentist’s office near the center of the city on Sunday. “But we grew up with him there. He was there my entire life. It is difficult to just move on.”
One artist, Ali Ali, decided to challenge and provoke discussion about Mr. Mubarak, hoping that would lead to “closure.” He made “Thirty Hosnis,” for Mr. Mubarak’s three decades in power, silk-screen images using well-known photographs of the former president, cast in subdued tones beside pop culture images like Darth Vader and the dot-gulping creature in the video game Pac-Man.
“This is after all the most iconic image of our generation,” the artist said in a flier distributed at his opening show in the Articulate Baboon gallery. “At a time when images of Hosni Mubarak are being taken down all over the country there has never been a better time to put them up.”
But instead of closure what he provoked — or, perhaps, revealed — was the confusion that Egyptians now wrestle with.
“I’m upset; they shouldn’t put pictures of Mubarak,” said Ahmed Taha, 24, at first unsure what to make of the show. “When I look at him I remember humiliation, I remember unemployment, I remember inflation, I remember corruption, I remember the country’s bad reputation abroad. He reminds me of everything that is bad in this country.”
For all that, Mr. Taha does not want to see Mr. Mubarak put on trial. “I just want to forget,” he said.
But Mena Hashem, 25, a banker at the show, disagreed.
“It’s a good thing that Mubarak is being tried,” she said. “But then, exactly how will he be tried? By the same corrupt people who are protecting him?”
Mr. Mubarak is 82 years old, almost 83. He had appeared to be in relatively solid health right until the prosecutor announced that he would be questioned about corruption and his role in the deaths of more than 800 people killed during the protests that unseated him. Then he felt chest pains. He has been taken to a military hospital, where he is being detained while undergoing questioning. His fall accelerated as public pressure forced the military rulers of Egypt to take steps against him.
“The tragedy was not necessarily like Sadat’s assassination or Nasser dropping dead,” said Salama Ahmed Salama, head of the editorial board at the independent newspaper Sharouk. “The tragedy for Mubarak was how he fell from the height and pinnacle of power in a matter of days or hours. Who would have thought that such a powerful man would have to say goodbye just like that?”
Mr. Mubarak is all gray now, Egyptian newspapers reported, no longer taking the trouble to dye his hair jet black. And he has told prosecutors that they can do anything to him, but to release his sons, Gamal and Alaa, who are in jail while being investigated for corruption.
But most Egyptians are delighted to see his widely despised sons in jail while many cringe at the thought of their former leader behind bars.
His very public humbling has satisfied fears that he was behind the scenes orchestrating plans for a counterrevolution. But it also has raised questions about where to go next and how far to go. Many people have called for his execution — particularly if he is found to have ordered the security forces to fire on protesters — while many more have said he should just be forgotten and left alone.
“The whole country is Hosni Mubarak,” said Adel el-Sayed as he stood on a sidewalk corner with four friends talking about current events on Sunday. “That’s why it’s hard to get Hosni Mubarak out of Egypt.”
For the moment, it appears that Mr. Mubarak is headed to some kind of accounting, probably a trial, assuming his health holds up. While that is not a certainty, it could in itself offer the answer for how to proceed. A fair public trial could satisfy calls for justice — and revenge.
“Mubarak’s trial will be a turning point in Egypt’s history and the history of the region,” said Alaa Al Aswany, the best-selling author and social commentator. “This is a the civilized part of the revolution and the kind of justice that Mubarak did not do for the Egyptian people.”
There is no survey to prove this, and those who feel a touch of sympathy for the former president tend to say so under their breath, like Salma Sowellem, as she visited an art show recently: “Shhh, I don’t want my boyfriend to hear, he’ll get mad. But Mubarak, he’s an old man. He’s sick. His sons are in prison. That’s enough.”
But the sentiment is very much part of the complex mix of emotions that have overwhelmed this nation as it struggles to reconcile with the past and move into the future, to balance calls for revenge against demands for justice. Egyptians are still not sure if they should pursue South African-style reconciliation, an Eastern European-style hunt for collaborators or just try to forget it all and press on.
They know they have to start at the top.
“He was like God, and we still keep saying that he is ruling Egypt, even though he has been arrested,” said Hussein Hanafy, 44, as he stood with a group of friends near downtown one day discussing the situation. “I have not seen anyone but him for 30 years. I won’t just forget him overnight.”
And then summing up a sentiment repeated over three days of interviews here he said: “I feel sorry for him. But he is not innocent.”
Mr. Mubarak was president for nearly 30 years, and in that time he engaged in the alchemy of a typical autocrat, transforming his mortal identity to that of near deity — or in the Egyptian context, pharaoh. His picture was not only posted everywhere, but to destroy or deface it was a crime.
And then he was gone, and even some who cheered his fall found themselves disoriented by the loss of the most familiar feature of their national landscape.
“Nobody is happy with what he did,” said Mona Yousef, as she left her dentist’s office near the center of the city on Sunday. “But we grew up with him there. He was there my entire life. It is difficult to just move on.”
One artist, Ali Ali, decided to challenge and provoke discussion about Mr. Mubarak, hoping that would lead to “closure.” He made “Thirty Hosnis,” for Mr. Mubarak’s three decades in power, silk-screen images using well-known photographs of the former president, cast in subdued tones beside pop culture images like Darth Vader and the dot-gulping creature in the video game Pac-Man.
“This is after all the most iconic image of our generation,” the artist said in a flier distributed at his opening show in the Articulate Baboon gallery. “At a time when images of Hosni Mubarak are being taken down all over the country there has never been a better time to put them up.”
But instead of closure what he provoked — or, perhaps, revealed — was the confusion that Egyptians now wrestle with.
“I’m upset; they shouldn’t put pictures of Mubarak,” said Ahmed Taha, 24, at first unsure what to make of the show. “When I look at him I remember humiliation, I remember unemployment, I remember inflation, I remember corruption, I remember the country’s bad reputation abroad. He reminds me of everything that is bad in this country.”
For all that, Mr. Taha does not want to see Mr. Mubarak put on trial. “I just want to forget,” he said.
But Mena Hashem, 25, a banker at the show, disagreed.
“It’s a good thing that Mubarak is being tried,” she said. “But then, exactly how will he be tried? By the same corrupt people who are protecting him?”
Mr. Mubarak is 82 years old, almost 83. He had appeared to be in relatively solid health right until the prosecutor announced that he would be questioned about corruption and his role in the deaths of more than 800 people killed during the protests that unseated him. Then he felt chest pains. He has been taken to a military hospital, where he is being detained while undergoing questioning. His fall accelerated as public pressure forced the military rulers of Egypt to take steps against him.
“The tragedy was not necessarily like Sadat’s assassination or Nasser dropping dead,” said Salama Ahmed Salama, head of the editorial board at the independent newspaper Sharouk. “The tragedy for Mubarak was how he fell from the height and pinnacle of power in a matter of days or hours. Who would have thought that such a powerful man would have to say goodbye just like that?”
Mr. Mubarak is all gray now, Egyptian newspapers reported, no longer taking the trouble to dye his hair jet black. And he has told prosecutors that they can do anything to him, but to release his sons, Gamal and Alaa, who are in jail while being investigated for corruption.
But most Egyptians are delighted to see his widely despised sons in jail while many cringe at the thought of their former leader behind bars.
His very public humbling has satisfied fears that he was behind the scenes orchestrating plans for a counterrevolution. But it also has raised questions about where to go next and how far to go. Many people have called for his execution — particularly if he is found to have ordered the security forces to fire on protesters — while many more have said he should just be forgotten and left alone.
“The whole country is Hosni Mubarak,” said Adel el-Sayed as he stood on a sidewalk corner with four friends talking about current events on Sunday. “That’s why it’s hard to get Hosni Mubarak out of Egypt.”
For the moment, it appears that Mr. Mubarak is headed to some kind of accounting, probably a trial, assuming his health holds up. While that is not a certainty, it could in itself offer the answer for how to proceed. A fair public trial could satisfy calls for justice — and revenge.
“Mubarak’s trial will be a turning point in Egypt’s history and the history of the region,” said Alaa Al Aswany, the best-selling author and social commentator. “This is a the civilized part of the revolution and the kind of justice that Mubarak did not do for the Egyptian people.”
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