Today's blog was to be about China. I've been working on it for a long time, but history doesn't wait for any man, not even an old fart like me. The history being made these days is not about China but about Egypt.
My earliest connection to Egypt was reciting the Hagaddah during Passover. This ancient story of the Jewish escape from Pharaoh's Army has stirred generation after generation.
I personally did not encounter Egypt until I was nearly forty. It happened this way....................I was working in the Pittsburgh area when Marty Glaser asked me to compose a song for an upcoming Jewish Federation fundraiser. Being true to my nature of never knowing when to stop, I composed an orchestral piece that was recorded by members of the Pittsburgh Symphony and I called it Jerusalem. Beyond being used by the Federation, nothing came of it. It took its place on my shelf of other forgotten or obscure pieces.
A year later, President Sadat of Egypt flew to Jerusalem in a quest for peace.
Marvin Franklin, who headed up the advertising agency of which I was a partner-Franklin, Rader and Rojay-suggested that Jerusalem could be tied to Sadat's visit.
Marvin had other motives in mind; we had just recorded an album of original songs by me and he believed that if we put Jerusalem in the album and tied it to an international event, it would be gangbusters.
Marvin had a friendship with Senator Randolph, who was presented with the following scenario devised by a local TV anchor. The scenario said that I had composed Jerusalem with the help of a young accountant in Marvin's employ who was of Lebanese-Syrian descent.
It was a natural-Jewish American and Arab American compose peace song. And it took on a life of its own. The next thing I knew, we were being invited to present a recording to the Egyptian Embassy in Washington DC. Not to be outdone by the Egyptians, the Israeli Embassy invited us also; and then through the process of momentum, a copy was taken to the White House.
All this happened in one afternoon. By 6:30, we were famous-sort of-making the news on all three networks.
Much to my surprise our snowball continued to roll downhill; and so, we were invited to come to Jerusalem and present a recording to Prime Minister Begin. A beat or two later we were likewise invited to go to Cairo and present a recording to President Sadat.
Throughout all this, my "co-composer" (who I will call Seseen) gobbled up the limelight and every microphone or camera in sight, in spite of the fact that he really had nothing to do with any of it.
We finally got to Jerusalem and I noticed right away that Seseen was very nervous. As it turned out, we had to wait for the presentation to Prime Minister Begin and during the three weeks that we waited, Seseen made numerous trips into the old city of Jerusalem where he sort of became radicalized by the Arab shopkeepers that he encountered there.
Before I knew it, he was making unkind references to Israel and "the Jews" but true to form, when the presentation was made, Seseen was all smiles and like I said before, he was first in line to the microphone.
Just days after this, Prime Minister Begin compared Sadat to Hitler. The Egyptians broke off all contact with the Israelis and we found ourselves in a situation where we would not be able to go to Egypt from Israel. The fallback plan was to go to London and go from there to Egypt. But as fate would have it, Seseen and I went to a movie in Jerusalem that night and while we were watching Ryan's Daughter, a squad of Israeli troops came in and sat next to us and laid their oozies down on the concrete floor. In Israel, off-duty troops stay armed; when Seseen heard the click click click of the machine guns against the floor, he fled the theater and booked passage back to the states the following morning. I never saw him again.
Once I was in London, I became, in effect, a ward of the Egyptian Embassy, a very nice, a very splendid Embassy I might say, with a waiting room that featured a Chanson painting of a Nile scene. This was not a copy, it was the real thing.
I was treated with customary Egyptian hospitality that included Turkish coffee and baklava.
The attaché who dealt with me suggested that I take a room at the Cumberland Hotel and wait for an Egyptian visa.
I spent my time walking about London, trying to absorb the sights and sounds of the city. One of those days, while walking down Oxford Street, I saw a young Muslim girl drop her purse and in the process release several papers to the wind.
No one stopped to help her until I arrived and joined her in chasing down documents, papers and other items. When she stood up and looked me in the eye, I could see that she was very beautiful and very distressed.
I suggested that we go into a nearby coffee house so that she could collect herself. When we got inside, her eyes began to tear up and I wondered what I could do for her.
She told me that she had been having a terrible day. She had come to London with her best friend for a short vacation and as soon as she arrived, that very morning, the friend left her for a rendezvous with a Frenchman in Paris. Now she was all alone in London and didn't know what to do.
I looked at my watch and realized it was 10:30. "Would you like to see the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace?" I said. "It's at 11 o'clock; if we hurry we can get there on time."
Her face lit up with a beautiful smile and in no time we were disembarking from our taxi in front of the crowd that had gathered to see the ceremony.
Strangely enough, a Japanese company was filming a commercial at the same time and we encountered a large Japanese actor in a Samurai outfit with his sword drawn. Then the band began to play God Save the Queen.
Having spent many years in military bands, I was most interested in this band's make up. It had no trumpets, but rather a chorus of cornets which gave the band a very light and delicate sound. I immediately heard the difference between this band, which had an orchestral texture, and American military bands, which blasted all hell out of every note.
There was such a crowd around the palace fence that I instinctively picked up the young girl and held her in my arms so she could see over the rows of heads. Of course this is not something a stranger should do to a Muslim girl, especially one who hasn't even told him her name. When I finally let her down, she was trembling like a little bird and on the spot I gave her the name "Pacushni" and this is what I called her from that moment on. I never found out her real name.
In the three days of the weekend that followed, I took her to the London Zoo, I took her to a movie about the blitz, I took her to the British Museum and I took her to a Turkish Restaurant where we had kebabs and Sigara Boregi. It was here that she talked to me about The Seven Pillars of Wisdom and I realized that she was a very religious girl. And yet, she seemed drawn to me. Of course, I was giving her the grand tour and paying all the expenses. I must say, at this point, that nothing happened between the girl and myself; but I believe we enjoyed each other's company. Her English was excellent and she was very sweet and kind.
The most intimate thing that happened, happened one afternoon in Hyde Park as she began reciting poetry that she had written. When we settled on a bench, she translated it from Arabic to English and it went something like this ........................ "I fly in the mornings while the stars still sleep in the sky; and when I land I see the sun and it is rising." I can't remember more, but it was very heartfelt on her part.
On Monday morning, I met her again and rode with her in a taxi to Heathrow where I saw her board a plane back to Cairo.
The memory of this girl still haunts me, her sweet femininity, the fruit of millenniums of Egyptian womanhood.
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President Sadat was very gracious, more so than Prime Minister Begin who leaned into me and said in my ear, "Make a million."
There were other differences, the Prime Minister's offices in Jerusalem were very utilitarian, no ruffles and flourishes. Everything was painted grey. The other thing that I remember most was the dead eyes of the Mossad Security. Every one of them seemed to have said El Male Rachamim* for himself. In other words they were dead men walking.
Sadat's digs were splendid-gilded you might say. Strangely enough, Sadat reminded me of a sergeant I had known in the Army whose name was Robert E. Lee Washington.
I ended up with a letter from Sadat thanking me for the composition of Jerusalem and referring to my desire for "peace in the Middle East". The letter is framed and hanging on my living room wall.
Sadly enough, Sadat was assassinated soon afterward. According to the story of his assassination, his killers said to Mubarak who was sitting next to him, "Get out of the way, this is the dog we're after."
My only contact with Egypt in the thirty years since, has been by way of an Israeli diplomat who I met through the offices of Moshe Shilon, the manager of the Prime Minister's office.
You never know when someone you meet will become important to your life. I first met Moshe Shilon in 1962 when he was Counsel General in Los Angeles; I dated his secretary, Alona. I know from my diplomatic friend, who shall remain nameless, an outline of life in Egypt during the Mubarak years.
An Egyptian middle-class evolved under Mubarak as he suppressed the Moslem Brotherhood. At the same time, he maintained the Peace Treaty with Israel, a very important fact. As Henry Kissinger said, "No Egypt, no war."
Egypt, particularly ancient Egypt, became a prime tourist destination for Israelis. A certain amount of trade developed and a natural gas pipeline was laid across the Sinai to Israel. There were other exchanges on the cultural level, up to and including a recent Israeli-Egyptian film titled, The Band's Visit. But all this time a rather strange thing took place; while the diplomatic posture of Egypt was peaceful toward Israel, the internal posture was quite hostile.
Egypt was playing a double game. Sadly enough, this game did not include shaping a more positive attitude toward Israel in the Egyptian mind.
Quite recently a synagogue in Alexandria was restored. It was the synagogue of Maimonides, a famous Jewish philosopher whose name is still recited in synagogues to this day. Maimonides was an adviser to Saladin, the Kurdish General that led an Egyptian Army against the Crusaders, finally ridding the Holy Land of Europeans in the Middle Ages.
No mention of the synagogue opening or the history of Maimonides or of a vibrant, rich and productive Jewish presence in Egypt's past was to be found in any Egyptian newspaper or any form of Egyptian media.
At the same time as these changes took place in Egypt, a slowly simmering resentment began to boil. The same kind of resentment that boiled up in Iran, many Latin-American countries and Indonesia. The resentment that comes from corruption and oppression.
My brother, James, who retired recently as a lobbyist on K Street in Washington, has a theory about all this, about the way it relates to a statement by Condoleezza Rice, i.e. "For sixty years, America has chosen stability over democracy." In other words, we've backed tin-horn dictators at the expense of the common man.
My brother's theory says that it all started with golf. My brothers and I grew up in Country Club Manor a place that surrounded a golf course, one of the first of its kind in America. I woke up every morning in the summertime to the sound of a water sprinkler on the ninth hole. We caddied and learned to play and my brother, James, and my brother, Dennis, have both been semi pro-golfers. Throughout it all, I've wondered why anyone wants to submit themselves to this special kind of Scottish masochism. But there is status in the game and I don't put down any American that loves golf. But in my brother's words, "The only men who can afford to play golf in the poorer countries of the world are men from the ass-hole class." These repressive robber baron sons of bitches especially love to play golf with members of Congress. The problem is that the smell rubs off; it gets in the clothes and in the hair and in the nostrils, some people learn to love it, especially those in the political class. That's why their golfing partners can have anything they want and gladly return everything in kind. Of course, the American taxpayer foots the bill. In the case of Egypt during the reign of Pharaoh Mubarak-about fifty billion dollars worth.
Where did this money go? Did it go to the homeless of Egypt who slept in the cemeteries of the City Of The Dead? Did it go to those that live around the garbage dumps of Cairo and sift through garbage to eke out an existence? Did it go to the laboring class Egyptian who is lucky to earn two dollars a day? Or did it go to members of the Cairo Yacht Club who sit riverside drinking martinis and smoking cigars while less fortunate Egyptians sink into misery because of rising food prices and inflation. Inflation so severe that they can no longer afford ful,** a fast-food dish made from fava beans, a simple thing that Egyptians consider their birthright.
These conditions have lasted for years. The punishment for complaining can earn a visit from the Secret Police or worse.
In 2005 when the kettle boiled over and there were spontaneous protests, Mubarak called out the so-called twenty-pound men; men who are paid the equivalent of four dollars or twenty Egyptian pounds. These thugs were given Viagra so that they could pull women out of the crowds and rape them.
Even among the middle class, there is widespread frustration about the lack of employment for college graduates-most young men and young women can't afford to get married and lead a normal life.
More recently a young Egyptian businessman named Khalid Said was beaten to death for reporting police corruption. This is the event that lit the fuse. The Tunisian Revolt that overthrew the Government of Ben-Ami led to the explosion that ended up in Tahrir Square.
How was this all possible?
It came about through the use of Social Media-Facebook and Twitter and so forth. This is a new phenomenon which started with protests in Iran in 2009.
Everyone who has the tools of this media can communicate with everyone else; ergo massive communication unparalleled in the past.
Every Egyptian who was sick of bullying, sick of massive corruption, sick of the paying of bribes, sick of the insider deals that made the friends and cronies of Mubarak and his son billionaires rose up and responded to a Facebook page.
The Facebook page I have in mind is the one authored by Wael Ghonim that described the beating death of Khalid Said.
Soon after, the Tunisian uprising took place. Many Egyptians said they were shamed by the Tunisian action. Days later, a web page appeared calling for a demonstration in an upscale neighborhood of Cairo.
This neighborhood was soon surrounded by secret police and nobody came. Because through secondary communication the crowd gathered in a poor neighborhood. There were only thirty to fifty people involved but as they walked the streets calling on men in cafes and people on balconies, the crowd swelled to thousands.
The Egyptian Government responded by closing down the internet.
This led to the battles on Kasr El-Nil Bridge leading into Tahrir Square. The marchers were confronted by squadrons of police who used water cannon, tear gas and rubber bullets. When the crowd did not withdraw, live ammunition was used to shoot people down in cold blood.
All this touched such a nerve among Egyptians that the following day the Square was filled with tens of thousands. There was elation until Wednesday morning when mobs of government goons waded in with truncheons, Molotov cocktails and pistols. Out of nowhere came a charge of horses and a camel carrying on their backs men with machetes. These were largely unemployed tourist guides from Giza; there were no tourists.
The battle raged throughout the night as reported on the International media. Ben Wedeman of CNN, a resident of Cairo stood on his balcony and gave a blow-by-blow account. Anderson Cooper showed up as did a legion of other reporters.
During the night Katie Couric and Brian Williams flew in. The next day, Thursday, the thugs of the pro-Mubarak crowd began attacking the media. Anderson Cooper got punched out as did Arwa Damon. Christiane Amanpour got jostled; but as luck would have it, she ended up interviewing Hosni Mubarak.
Katie Couric and Brian Williams got pummeled and fled to America that night. Among the bravest of all these reporters was Laura Logan of CBS who was arrested, blindfolded and held for twelve hours. Strangely enough, not one of these reporters stayed in Cairo to see the end of the story.
The night before it all ended, I turned on Channel two to see, much to my surprise, Charlie Rose in Cairo. Yes, by God, there he was, the pinnacle of intellectual talk, having a conversation with Thomas Friedman who, I was amazed to learn, actually attended college in Cairo many years in the past. Other reporters of note were David Kirkpatrick and my cousin, Christopher Dickey, from Newsweek. Also hanging in was Max Rodenbeck from the BBC and the Economist in London and Frederik Pleitgen, a reporter of German origin who compared the final night's events to the destruction of the East German Wall. It would be unfair if I left out Nick Robertson. All of these news people, whether they stayed through it all or not, had everything to do with the success of the revolt. Without them, I have no doubt that there would have been much more bloodshed.
As I watched the protest I was taken by the undercurrents at play. Coverage on Fox Network engaged in not a little bit of fear mongering. Neil Cavuto talking about the Moslem Brotherhood and the fear that if Mubarak was ousted the Moslem Brotherhood would take over, suggested that the Moslem Brotherhood was affiliated with Al Qaeda. This was based upon the fact that Ayman al-Zawahiri, Osama bin Laden's sidekick, had once belonged to the Moslem Brotherhood. In fact the Moslem Brotherhood and Al Qaeda view one another as enemies. The Moslem Brotherhood was founded when Egypt was still under British rule with the sole purpose of driving the British out. That is not to say that this organization is populated by saints and virgins.
An interesting fact is that when Egypt imprisoned al-Zawahiri's brother, the Americans asked Sulieman, the head of Egypt's security establishment for a DNA sample. Sulieman offered to send one of al-Zawahirir's brother's arms.
In an interview with Wolf Blitzer, Mohammed Badie, head of the Moslem Brotherhood dodged the question, "Will the Moslem Brotherhood recognize the right of Israel to exist?"
This brings up the matter of endemic anti-Semitism in Egyptian society; many government vehicles during the demonstrations were spray-painted with the Star of David. There were also signs and placards against Israel and the Jews.
There is talk among some factions of Egyptians that a Moslem government would seek to finish Israel off. What a pipe dream that is. A third war between Israel and Egypt would be nuclear and Egypt, as we know it, would cease to exist.
Last of all, the amateurish incompetence of the Obama Administration should be noted.
1.) They were caught flat-footed.
2.) As Henry Kissinger said, "They talk about it too much."
3.) In a speech in Munich, Hillary Clinton referred to the Egyptian Constitution saying that any change in government must take place accordingly; what a ridiculous joke. No one disregarded the Egyptian Constitution more than Hosni Mubarak. Not only that, but Hillary Clinton later said that she was not even aware of the Egyptian Constitution until a day or so previously.
In a chronology of important events, it must be noted that Mubarak made two defiant speeches. The first, early in the protest, brought disappointment. The second, the night before he resigned, brought fury. Two days before he resigned, Wael Ghonim was released from prison. In an interview that was widely broadcast, he ended with the following statement....................
"I'm ready to die. I have a lot to lose in this life. I work in the best company in the world, I have the best wife and I love my kids but I will give all that up for my dream. No one is going to go against our desire. I am telling this to Omar Suleiman; he is going to watch this. He can kidnap me, kidnap all my colleagues, put us in jail, kill us; we are getting back our country. You have ruined this country for thirty years. Enough, enough, enough."
This statement galvanized the protestors, galvanized all of Egypt and people throughout the world. It was followed by Mubarak's last defiant speech Thursday evening. I went to bed with the roar of the crowd still in my ears. On Friday afternoon, after practicing the trumpet, I went into the kitchen and pealed two boiled eggs, took a piece of sushi out of the refrigerator and poured myself a small glass of Borscht when my wife called me and said, "Mubarak is out."
My personal feelings about all of this is one of sympathy for the brave young men and women who came out each day to protest. I wonder if "Pacushni" or her husband, sons or daughters might have been in the crowd. Whatever the case, I know the protesters were there because they loved Egypt and they stood like a shining light that said from Egypt with love.
*Heb. Prayer for the dead.
**Arabic. Fava bean snack
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Be sure to watch David Rojay on The Dave Rojay Show each Saturday night at 9:30 on Channel 17. Starting Saturday, October 16, Dave introduces his new co-star, Erin Healy-Editor of Prime Time Magazine. Read A RED STATE HERO and THE LONG BRIDGE RUNNER by David Rojay on capecodtoday.com and finally check out David Rojay on YOUTUBE. For more information, Google "David Rojay".
