Friday, February 11, 2011


Last night – this morning – I sat till near 1:00 a.m. before this screen, watching Al Jazeera's coverage of the gathering crowd in Tahrir Square, waiting for…God knew what.  I went to bed, still watching CNN…and , on PBS,Charlie Rose, Tom Friedman, for once making sense, offering hope…and those reporters from the New York Times and the Economist.  I dozed off, waking just before three to the sound of noonday prayers - a strange defiant voice – and the incredible sight of a sea of people, seemingly a single organism, undulating, chanting in unison.

I awoke a minute or two before eight, flipped on the bedroom TV, just in time to watch Suleiman read that terse announcement that Mubarak had resigned, to watch that sea of humanity in evening twilight erupt in jubilation.  And, from a balcony in the Nile Hilton I savored the view that Mimi and I knew 38 years ago, the Corniche below, the Nile in the background.  This time their were no convoys with sandbags headed north, the night before a war, just a single tank and crowds of people rushing south to the square called "liberation."  Their repeated shout – "Misr hurra!" – "Egypt's Free!"

And in these eighteen days not an American nor an Israeli flag has been burned nor any violence visited by the people on their tormentors.

My prayer for Egypt had been answered.  I'm dead tired, but full of energy for these coming weeks....and a visit to Jenin.

Pray now for Palestine.


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