One Step Up and Two Steps Back?

One step up ... maybe

Following months of speculation, Egypt's worst kept secret was this week finally made public. Field Marshall Abdel Fatah al-Sisi, the commander-in-chief of the armed forces who led the ouster of former president Mohammed Morsi, communicated his resignation from the military in order to run for the presidency. In a televised speech aired earlier in the week, al-Sisi announced his resignation, declaring his presidential candidacy. 

For many Egyptians this is good news. Al-Sisi has an almost cult-like following.  A career infantry officer, he is cut from the same military mold as Nasser and Sadat. In his previous speeches he has focused on security and stability, two themes popular among business owners and shop keepers. He is a devout Muslim who often quotes from the Koran, a personal characteristic that is popular among Egypt's poor and working classes. In his speech this week he stressed security, unity, hard work, and prosperity. Who doesn't support these ideas?

For some Egyptians the promises of a brighter future ring hollow. For them the prospect of an al-Sisi presidency represents catastrophe and failure. In 2012, when president Morsi tapped al-Sisi to head the armed forces, conservative Muslims and members of the now-outlawed Muslim Brotherhood inwardly cheered. They saw in al-Sisi a kindred, pious spirit. Finally one of their own, a conservative Muslim, was heading Egypt's revered and powerful military apparatus. Less than a year later, al-Sisi was leading the charge against President Morsi, a charge that led to Morsi's fall and subsequent incarceration. A charge that led to the downfall of the Morsi government. Al-Sisi's former Muslim Brotherhood supporters now view him as a traitor. 

Some liberal-minded university students do not support al-Sisi either, although they do not see him as a traitor. Liberals view al-Sisi as another Mubarak, a former military commander assuming the reigns of the state. A return to business as usual. An outright denial of the ideals of the 2011 revolution.

Given the public display of flags, posters, even al-Sisi shaped chocolates however, the former general's supporters seem to grossly outnumber his detractors. Al-Sisi is expected to win the upcoming May elections by a wide margin. With elections just two months away, the only other candidate in the presidential race is Hamdeen Sabahi, a liberal/leftist politician and poet who finished third in the 2012 presidential election. Sabahi is popular among college liberals but is seen by most as a rather obscure leftist.

Pragmatists would question why either al-Sisi or Sabahi would want to seek the presidential post. The job will certainly not be easy. The next president will administer over an Egypt where one in every four or five citizens lives on less than two dollars per day. An Egypt where the government annually pays billions of dollars toward bread and fuel subsidies. An Egypt where inflation rates are rising into the double-digits. An Egypt where weekly public protests and clashes result in multiple deaths. An Egypt where daily power outages and rolling blackouts have become commonplace. To solve these crippling problems will be no easy task. Both al-Sisi and Sabahi have good reputations going into this election. Given the daunting tasks at hand, they have much to lose.

Two steps back ... certainly

If it wasn't al-Sisi's candidacy grabbing international headlines, it was Egyptian judge, Saeed Elgazar. Judge Elgazar is the man who this week sentenced 529 arrested protestors to death. The trial took place in the Minya district, a couple of hundred kilometers south of Cairo. 

Clashes between security forces and pro-Morsi demonstrators in Minya came to a head last August with protestors attacking a local police station, killing one officer. Security forces then overwhelmed the protestors, arresting hundreds. The protestors' trial was held this week. It lasted two days. Only 150 of the defendants, wearing their required white coveralls and locked behind a crowded cage in the courtroom, were present. The rest of the defendants were held in various prisons and detainment units throughout the country. Defense attorneys were not able to meet with most of the defendants. Testimony during the two-day trial was scant. In the end, 529 of the protestors received a death sentence. Judge Elgazar acquitted only 16 people. 

Human rights organizations immediately condemned the proceedings. Human Right Watch, Amnesty International, and even the United Nations Human Rights Commission have all criticized the conduct of the trial for its lack of respect to the rights of the accused and absence of procedural due process. Government officials and legal experts in Cairo were quick to distance themselves from the ruling, pointing out that provincial courts operate independently of the federal courts. The same Cairo officials were also quick to stress that the Minya ruling was subject to a federal appeals process. Few here in Cairo expect the sentences to be carried out, believing instead that a successful appeals process will overturn the decision. Still ...

Since August and the crackdown on political protests, over 16,000 people have been arrested. Most are still awaiting trial.

Whale Watching in the Sahara

Mud-mounds and bluffs overlooking Wadi Al-Hitan

We are heading out this morning, two passengers on a whale watching expedition to the Wadi Al-Hitan, a part of the Eastern Sahara. Meghan, one of the teachers with whom we work, put this expedition together a couple of weeks ago, and she has issued a 100% guarantee that we will see whales today, albeit dead ones. Very dead. Millions of years dead.

50 million years ago, most of Egypt was submerged beneath a shallow sea, a sea that was home to an abundant amount of marine life including a primitive type type of whale known as a basilosaurus. A cross between a small whale and an alligator, a basilosaurus could grow to 20 meters in length, and it swam alongside tortoises, crocodiles, and sharks. The waters teemed with life with the basilosaurus floating happily atop the food chain. The fossilized remains of the basilosaurus' lush marine environment can be seen in the eastern portion of the Sahara Desert. Located a couple of hundred kilometers southwest of Cairo, Wadi Al-Hitan is a part of this area and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. This is our destination.

Including Hany, our very experienced guide, and his two compatriots, there are fifteen of us traveling in the caravan this morning. Dana and I have shared previous adventures with several of our fellow travelers. Sarah, Rick, and their two children, Matthew and Emily (who speak better Arabic than all of the rest of us put together), joined us on trips to Luxor and Old Cairo. Joe and Rosanna trekked to Luxor, too. This morning, we gather at a local market just before clambering into our ships of the desert. Were we to make this journey a century ago, we would be climbing onto comfortable camel perches adorned with brightly colored Egyptian woolen blankets. Today, we climb aboard dusty Toyota Landcruisers.

The drive there proves fascinating, however. We exit the main highway just outside of Giza, off-roading across hard-packed sand for many, barren kilometers. Our driver, Hamdy, is a tall, handsome man that hails from a remote village in central Egypt. He wears a keffiyah (checkered headdress) and an alabaster galabiya (traditional men's robe). As the blackened rock and firm sand under our wheels give way to shifting ochre dunes, we discover that Hamdy has two wives and three children. I note with interest that the wives live in separate towns. We also learn that Hamdy likes American R&B. He is particularly passionate about R Kelly, and we listen to the first four episodes of Trapped in the Closet. Treading a fine line between jocularity and horror, Joe sings along. He knows a disturbing amount of the lyrics. Hamdy is (sadly) impressed by Joe's singing and films one of Joe's impromptu segments; coming to an Egyptian YouTube channel near you.

After two hours of coursing through the dunes, we drop precariously. It is as if all of the land fell at once, a broad valley stretching as far as I can see. Here and there, copper colored mesas rise above the shifting sands. The horizontal striations along the sides of the mesas tell a story of  millions of years of receding water levels, the story ending with a dead sea and an ocean of dust and sand.

When we arrive at Wadi Al-Hitan however, we grasp that there is more here than dust and sand. Hany leads our caravan of three Landcruisers into the site parking lot. UN funding has ensured the maintenance and upkeep of this place. Several one-story buildings, domed structures made of sun-dried brick, provide visitors with shade, modern toilets, and even an area to cook meals. Hany, purchases tickets for our group, gives us a brief introduction about the park, and then leaves us to enjoy the hike on our own.

The hike takes one to two hours. We see ochre, toadstool-like rock formations, mud-mounds that are millions of years old. Our path meanders through these magnificent features. Beneath some of the mud-mounds lay the preserved skeletal remains of basilosaurus. Some of the best specimens from the park have long since been taken to museums for further inspection, but 15 or so fine examples have been demarcated and preserved. The best skeleton, a relatively small basilosaurus, is encountered about halfway through the hike. The creature's crocodile-like head and snout still have some teeth intact. The animal's fins and spinal column are easily discernible; the intact fossilized remains of an ancient whale in the midst of a desert. Incredible.

I would love to stay longer, but today is hot. The midday sun hammers down on us. Our water goes quickly; lips begin to feel baked and crispy. We head slowly back towards the park entrance. An hour-and-a-half later, we are sprawled out under one of the site's shelters, Hany serving us a cooked lunch of okra and tomato stew poured over a bed of rice. Also incredible.

Ged rockets down the dune

We regain our strength and pack up. The day is not over yet. Hany leads our caravan out of the park and toward a nearby shifting sand dune. We park at the base, the dune rising several hundred feet above us. Time for sandboarding. Imagine snowboarding except on sand. That's sandboarding. No helmet, no pads. Just you, your board, and the dune.

The kids take to it immediately. It takes us adults a little longer. Matthew and Emily, the youngest of our troop, bound halfway up the dune and glide down. At first they sit on the board, but then they muster the courage to stand, surfer-style. Before long, they are asking Hany to wax the bottoms of their boards so that they can go faster. Once the adults get the hang of it, they are pretty good, too. Ged, the tallest of our group, manages to make it the farthest up the dune, and he summits with a freshly waxed board. He slaloms down at quite a speed, making it look easy and oh, so much fun.

The trouble with sandboarding though is that it is such a trudge up the side of a shifting sand dune. Step ... slide down, step ... slide down. I make it about a quarter of the way up. I am panting, thighs burning from the exertion. In the time it takes me to amble  up, Matthew and Emily have been up and down and are on their way back up again. Ah, to have that much energy again.

The sun begins to set, our sandboarders casting impossibly long shadows down the slopes of the dunes. The kids take a couple of more runs, and then we need to leave. Hany tells us that foxes and jackals roam these parts after dark. What he does not say is that we are also in a relatively conservative part of the county, and that it is best to be back in Cairo before it gets too dark. So we pack our boards, climbing back into our modern ships of the desert.

We drive out of the dusty, barren valley. The land looks gaunt and thirsty. Driving away, it is difficult to believe that ages ago, this place was very different. That once upon a time, this area teemed with life; that the valley that once was a sea bed and home to millions of sea creatures.

*This week's photos by Dana Purpura.

A Synagogue in Ma'adi

Meyr Biton Temple from Road 13

A dusty, forlorn synagogue stands in Ma'adi just where Road 13 meets Orabi Street. From the pavement you can barely see the temple for all of the trees, reeds, and weeds. Look above the treetops though, and you can see the second story, the butternut colored blocks, the central dome. Walk around the building. Here and there you catch a glimpse of stained glass windows and inlaid Stars of David. See the hastily built brick walls surrounding the temple, the locked gate in front, the padlock encrusted with sand and dust. Tarry too long in front of the gates, and one of the bowabs from across the street will rise from his perch to shoo you away. Try to take a picture and you may be met with a vigorous shaking of the head, a wagging of the index finger, and a "la, la, la!" (no, no, no!). Even if you are not shooed away, you will be suspiciously watched. Given the bowabs' withering stares, you won't linger, and you will probably leave with many more questions than answers.

― That looked like it used to be a synagogue. What happened?

― Do you think it is abandoned?

― Does anyone still pray there? Does anyone take care of it?

Meyr Biton Temple, 1934
Courtesy, Bassatine News

In 1934, times were very different in Cairo and in Egypt. Howard Carter had discovered Tutankhamen's tomb just a a little over a decade before. Fuad was king. British influence was still strong. Those were the days before World War II and the pograms, before the Six Day War and the Arab-Israeli conflicts.

In 1934, landscaper and developer Meyr Yehuda Biton had a synagogue built for a burgeoning Jewish community in Ma'adi. It was not built to be grand or imposing. It was built as a place where a small but growing community could gather together to celebrate and pray. In 1934, the Meyr Biton Temple was finished and services began. Those services would come to an end just thirty short years later.

Barricades blocking all the streets around the temple

Today the streets around the synagogue are barricaded, blocked by palisades of police barriers, twisted metal bars, and recumbent spiked metal poles that look as is if they belong in a medieval weaponry museum. At half-block intervals, bowabs sit in their makeshift, metal stands warding off all but the most stalwart passerbyes. Overgrown trees and weeds choke the median between the street and the temple walls. It appears as though the same is true on the other side of the walls. At irregular intervals throughout the week, a policeman stands guard on the street in front. Motorists drive past, oblivious to the building's significance, its history, its legacy.

Jewish communities have been a part of the Egyptian social fabric since the days of Alexander the Great. Some Ottoman rulers in Egypt enjoyed the counsel of Jewish ministers and advisers. For hundreds of years, Alexandria and Cairo were renown for their vibrant Jewish communities. Just before the outbreak of the first Word War, the Jewish community in Egypt had been estimated at 80,000 strong; this according to most religious demographers.

But then the First World War was followed by another one. Pograms in Egypt's larger cities were not unheard of. And then came the creation of Israel. Some Egyptian Jews, Zionists dreaming of a Jewish state in the Middle East, left. Conflict between the people of Israel and the people of Egypt followed. More Egyptian Jews left, emigrating to Europe, South America, the United States. Then Nasser came to power, proclaiming Jews as enemies of the state. An exodus ensued.

According to a U.S. State Department report on international religious freedom published in 2007, only 200 native-born Jews remained in Egypt. Until this month, only 12 of the 200 were still here. Last week, Nadia Haroun, the sister of the President of the Jewish Community Council (JCC) of Cairo, passed away. The remaining 11 members of the Jewish community are all female and quite past child-bearing age. The future of the Egyptian Jewish community looks bleak.

But thanks to the work of the JCC, the interior of Meyr Biton Temple has recently been refurbished and is open to the public. It is advisable to contact the JCC first so that someone from the JCC office can contact the local caretaker, but entrance to the synagogue can be arranged. One blogger recounts his experience inside the temple,

In the entry, I saw a photo of the congregation from the early 1930s: women in old fashioned dresses and men wearing Turkish fezzes. Signs reminding the ladies to keep quiet still hung on the wall, in both French and English, as if the people from the photograph still gathered here. The bookshelves were filled with prayer books, many of which were close to 100 years old. I prayed that night from a siddur issued to soldiers in the British army during World War II. While this army prayer book did not contain a complete Shabbat service, it did include a prayer for going into battle, another for the wounded, and a special blessing for the royal family including Princess Elizabeth (now Queen Elizabeth II).

Although the synagogue's facade suggests otherwise, a light still shines inside the Meyr Biton Temple. One hopes that the light emanating from the altar will continue to shine on.

A Walk in Old Cairo

There are seven of us in our small traveling group today, and we are heading on a self-guided walking tour of Old Cairo, that section of the city dating back to before Roman times. Two thousand years ago, the Romans ruled Egypt from their administrative center in Alexandria, a city to the north of modern day Cairo. Cairo wasn't even Cairo when the Romans arrived. It was a tiny, backwater trading community that the Romans called "Babylon." As a part of their administrative occupation of Egypt, the Romans erected a fine, twin-towered trade post here at the base of the Nile Delta. The foundations of the mighty, Roman towers would one day serve as the foundations of the city of Cairo.

Roman Towers

Old Cairo is five metro stops to the north of us. Our group meets at one of Ma'adi's two metro stations. We pay our £1 Egyptian (about 15 cents) and board a modern, relatively clean train. Twenty minutes and no hassles later, we exit Mar Girgis Station. Crossing the street, we immediately encounter the remains of the old Roman towers. Cairenes call it the "Babylonian Fortress," and its robbed-out, stone-and-brick edifice looms three or four stories above us. Rebuilt and reinforced many times, the towers once guarded the lively river traffic sailing up and down the Nile. Two thousand years ago, the Nile flowed right up to the base of the Babylonian Fortress. Thanks modern engineers dictating the course of the Nile, today the river flows a couple of miles away to the west of us.

Coptic Museum

We follow the curve of one of the Roman towers towards the nearby Coptic Museum. This small museum (£60 entry fee) houses artifacts dating from the beginning of the Coptic Christian era of Egyptian history up to the Islamic era. We see delicate bronze pieces as well as a handful of extremely well-preserved textiles. The defining aspect of the museum however, is its richly carved wooden ceilings. The glorious ceilings, a product of skilled, local artisans, are a part of the 2006 restoration of the museum. The frescoes, bronzes, and ceilings make for a stunning masterpiece.

Interior, Hanging Church

Just down the street from the Coptic Museum is the famous Hanging Church, a Coptic Christian church that is over one thousand years old. The church has been in continuous use since being built. It was erected atop the ruins of the ancient Roman walls, hence its name. Inside, the church has the cozy feel of a small, wooded chapel, a nave packed with wooden pews and two side aisles. Gilded icons of saints and apostles adorn all of the walls. Light streams in from windows high above. A large stone pulpit, held aloft above the church pews by thirteen stone pillars, dominates the nave. Each pillar represents Christ and his Apostles. I note that one pillar, presumably the one representing Judas Iscariot, is hewn from dark marble, a stark contrast to the others.

We leave the Hanging Church to wander around the walls of the Christian Cemetery. These ancient walls surround most of the area that the Cairenes refer to as Old Cairo. We are on the outside of these walls, and we traipse through a lively Cairo neighborhood characterized by mechanics' shops, tiny cafes, mosques and trash heaps. Curious local residents eye us as they make their way to their afternoon prayers. Their awkward stares suggest that they have not seen foreign tourists in this neighborhood for a long time.

Jewish Cemetery gate,
Ben Ezra Synagogue

After wandering through an ancient Christian and Jewish cemetery, we stumble upon the Ben Ezra Synagogue. The oldest known synagogue in Egypt, there has been a house of worship on this site for at least 1100 years. Amidst the mosques of Cairo, it is easy to forget that northern Egypt was once the center of a vibrant Jewish community. Ancient records of land exchanges show that the land beneath the modern day Ben Ezra Synagogue was purchased by one Abraham ibn Ezra of Jerusalem for the purpose of establishing a religious community. It is believed that a synagogue was built not long after. As if this site needed any further historical gravitas, there is a powerful local legend about this place. According to the tale, several thousand years ago a pharaoh's daughter found an infant floating in a reed basket amongst the lush vegetation along the river Nile. She kept the child and named him, Moses.

Interior, Mosque of Amr ibn el-As

Having visited several Coptic Christian churches and a synagogue, we make our way north towards the Mosque of Amr ibn el-As, the first mosque in Egypt and on the African continent. 1300 years ago, Amr ibn el-As was the Arab general whose forces defeated a Byzantine army in the vicinity of what is now Old Cairo. Amr was a companion to the Prophet Muhammad. Legend tells that shortly before his death, the Prophet foretold that Amr would one day conquer Egypt and would be kind to its people. Muhammad's prophecy was fulfilled years later when Byzantine forces were beaten by Amr's crack troops. The rest of the region was occupied without much bloodshed. As it turns out, Amr ibn el-As was lucky. Relations between the people of Egypt and their Byzantine rulers had become quite uneasy in recent decades, and the people of Egypt seemed to welcome these new Arab invaders. Amr became a kind of governor of Egypt during the early days of

Visiting the Mosque

the Muslim Caliphate, and during this time, many Egyptians converted to Islam. It seems that the conversion was not coerced. Many Egyptians would have embraced the egalitarianism of Islam. Others may have converted to avoid the tax that Amr placed upon those who did not follow the tenets of this newly introduced religion. Whatever the explanation, the people of Egypt converted to Islam, setting into motion a spiritual revolution that would make Islam the religion followed by more than 95% of the people here.

Having started our journey at 10 a.m., we are exhausted by 3 p.m. Today, we stood before Roman gates; marveled at Egyptian wood carvings. We experienced the quiet piety of one of Egypt's most famous Coptic churches, and we gazed at the spot where Moses was plucked from the River Nile. At the end of the afternoon, we were consumed by the vastness and solemnity of Africa's first mosque. Our self-guided walking tour of Old Cairo proved to be a captivating and inspiring sojourn.

*This week's photos by Dana Purpura (and one by Rick Harman)