It is the nature of many cultural players-- particularly those who are considered independent and those in Egypt—to never back down, even if it means their actions can endanger them. They persist even if they are backed into a corner. They have no choice but to confront the forces that oppose them and face challenges posed by the authorities.
If the 2011 Revolution led to a drastic restructuring of the Egyptian cultural field, the thirst for freedom and social justice today still finds a lot of resistance from many institutions and individuals.
Whitewashing recent history
Since 25 January 2011, there has been a significant proliferation of Egyptian street art, like graffiti, and an emergence of many new names in all art fields.
However, finding themselves often silenced, both the artists and several other cultural players still find it difficult to take concrete action, to mobilise in order to defend their interests and recent gains.
For instance, in 2014 the new penal code regarding freedom of expression and laws defining work of the NGOs were announced. The cultural players were unable to stand up to them, despite the fact that most of these independent players are in big part supported by foreign resources from several international bodies.
Faced by strong restrictions, the independent scene could not defend El-Fan Midan (Art is a Square), which was held every month since the revolution in Abdin Square in Cairo until it was suspended by the authorities in autumn 2014.
One year later, they were unable to prevent the removal of street art around downtown Cairo, including Mohamed Mahmoud Street’s iconic graffiti, which coloured the walls near the old campus of the American University (AUC).
Almost all of this graffiti, which transformed the walls into a visual testimony to courage and strength, has been removed by the authorities; part of the AUC wall was destroyed in September 2015 under the pretext of redeveloping downtown Cairo. The voices saying, "You are undermining testimonies of our contemporary history" have faded fast.
'Walls of Freedom, Street Art of the Egyptian Revolution', a book on graffiti edited by Don Stone and Basma Hamdy and imported from Germany saw similar destiny. The copies have been seized by Alexandria's customs on the claims of it "instigating revolt and demonstrating how to resist army and police authorities."
With those and many other examples, it becomes evident that those creators, intellectuals, and activists did manage to organise themselves so they could move towards change or decide on what cultural policies should be adopted.
At a time when the reality is transfigured, moving backwards cannot be an option but, if the revolution continues, it is most palpable on an individual level.
Graffiti on Mohamed Mahmoud street before the walls were torn down, taken January 2015 (Photo: Hannah Porter)
The heritage of May ‘68
May 1968: this was the time of civil unrest in France, massive strikes, frustrated workers and students; this was also the time when culture driven by liberated speech radiated.
It seems that a lot of young Egyptian creators and intellectuals try to reinvent the legacy of May 1968. They ponder over same ideas that were pronounced by the French philosophers Gilles Deleuze, Jacques Derrida, and Michel Foucault, among others, the same intellectual generation that triumphed in the years 1960-70.
New cultural websites are being launched, be them qoll.net or tripodmagazine.com. On the other hand, we see resurgence of publishers such as Alam El Ketab (The World of Books, also a monthly publication) and translations of Deleuze's Philosophy of Creation (his lecture given on 27 March, 1987 is available on video). In a big sense, we borrow the need to create for resistance from Deleuze's metaphysics and his philosophy of art.
It is through the alternative scene that we search to deconstruct the legacy of Derrida where future is prior to the past, and to rebel against the disciplinary nature of the institution, just as Foucault would have pointed it out.
In this context, we see flourishing of a number of cultural entities, film clubs, artistic collectives and small production companies, like Seen Films or Mosireen.org or Cimatheque.org, which have become centers for the alternative film.
Those initiatives focus on the revolt of a young woman or on a depiction of a saleswoman whose life was turned upside down after the revolution, as we see it in the film Oum Amira (Amira's Mother), directed by Nagi Ismail. We find in it the electro-shaabi music, which has become a mouthpiece of a neglected segment of the population captured in Underground On The Surface, a documentary by Salma El-Tarzi, and we see it through the factory workers, protagonists of the hybrid documentary Barra Fel Share (Out on the Street) by Jasmina Metwaly and Philip Rizk.
It was this January, five years after the revolution, that the majority of 'independent' cultural players gathered in Zawya art-house to watch Egypt's premiere of the latter film, an evening which was fully sold out.
The film seems to reflect the post-May ‘68 activist cinema, inviting the workers to play their own stories, as the directors blur lines between documentary, fiction or reconstitution of facts.
The discussion following the film revealed how those present in the hall rejected the pre-established official canon, but also how, when backed into a corner, they need to find one another.
It is as if they had all sought refuge in a cinema in downtown Cairo, a shelter from predominant thought.
(Photo: Still from Omm Amira)
For more arts and culture news and updates, follow Ahram Online Arts and Culture on Twitter at @AhramOnlineArts and on Facebook at Ahram Online: Arts & Culture
Short link: