I don't know how exactly to write what I want to say, but I suppose I will try. By now, I've written about my love for Egypt and the Middle East and my criticism of Anderson Cooper when he focuses on things I deem less "important" than the Arab uprisings. So needless to say, I am very passionate about the Middle East. However, what I want is harder to describe than that. I don't think you can just take out dictators and install democracies; I wish it were that simple. It's not.
As successful as it seemed Egypt was for a while, things changed this weekend. I don't really understand it as well as I wish I did (nor do I think anyone does), but the army and police started firing at people protesting at the Israeli Embassy. The whole divide between the Arab world and Israel hurts me and I don't understand it, either. I mean, I understand it...but it does not make sense to me. And it hurts. People are people and differences in faith or whatever else do not merit the kind of divide that exists.
Last night as the violence erupted, I watched my Twitter stream and held back tears. I mean it honestly when I say that it hurts my heart to "watch" these things happen. I feel so utterly helpless and I can't stand it; sometimes I feel like screaming because I am so frustrated at my inability to do anything. Last night, though, I just felt like crying. Tarek Shalaby, an Egyptian revolutionary, streamed videos from his phone online. The last one was pitch black, presumably because he had it in his pocket to keep it hidden. But what I heard was enough. There were gunshots and screaming and I felt myself, once again, frustrated at my utter helplessness. Andy Carvin, who is fantastic and the reason I am so up-to-the-minute on the Middle East, was wonderful in getting people to translate the Arabic. And as I read the words translated, I was hurt more. The police were apparently cursing at protesters and yelling at them to get on the ground.
Then Shalaby's stream went dead. What had happened to him? Had he died?
Luckily, he was only arrested. But still, he was arrested, along with many others. This isn't right.
Years ago, when America was in the midst of boycotting France and calling our French Fries "Freedom Fries," I felt a bit of this same frustration. I didn't understand the hate and it hurt me. I remember one day, coming down from my room and finding my mom and expressing this to her. I cried. I cried, and cried, and cried. Why all this hate? Why express it on these people? They didn't do anything. It hurts me to see people hating and hurting and killing other people. They are people just like you and me and I believe in my heart that people are good. No, not everyone is perfect all the time and yes, some people are "evil." But most people are good and absolutely do not deserve this hate. And it hurts me somewhere deep inside. It affects me sometimes too much.
This is what I felt last night. Once again, I cried. I cried for the people being injured (one man was shot in the head and in critical condition). I cried for the repressed who have to fight for what I take for granted. I cried because the media does not cover this most of the time. And I cried because I get to sit here perfectly comfortable and complain that it's too hot outside or it's too cold or I'm not at the beach or I wanted to go see a movie. It's not right. It's not right that I get to sit here in my life that others would die for. A life that others ARE dying for. I sit here while they die or risk doing so because they are standing up for what they believe in. I'm not talking just about what I witnessed over Twitter last night, but about people all over the world. Syria, Libya, Yemen, Algeria, Morocco...I always talk about the Middle East, but also everyone around the world.
There is too much hate in the world.
We need more love, and more light.
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