Egypt: Between Old Men and Starfish Throwers

Most of us are familiar with the story of the boy, the old man and the starfish. A storm had washed up thousands of starfish onto a beach. An old man who was strolling on the sandy stretch noticed a little boy in the distance frantically throwing as many of the creatures as he could back into the sea. When he drew close to the boy he asked him what he was doing. The boy replied that he was saving the starfish. The old man, knowing that most of the creatures would perish before the boy could even begin to return all of them to their watery home, called out, “don’t be silly you can never save all of these starfish!” The boy, undaunted, scooped up one of the creatures and tossed it back into the ocean. He ran up to the old man and proudly proclaimed, “I saved that one!”

We can take many lessons from this story. One is the oftentimes callous disregard older folk can sometimes have for the idealism and passion of youth. If our young people cannot envision themselves saving the world then who can? We oftentimes feel they are young and naïve and will eventually learn that the task of saving the world is a lot more difficult than their tender years permit them to imagine. Despite our feelings, we should allow them to learn that lesson on their own in due time. Perhaps Allah will grant them Tawfiq and they will be able to make a far greater difference in the world than any of us older folks. At the very least, let us encourage them to maintain enough idealism and passion to save at least one starfish.

I say this by way of commenting on the massacre of the innocent throngs who were killed in Cairo two years ago, August 14, 2013. Human Rights Watch estimates that those killed in Rabia Square alone numbered between 817 to over 1,000. Those numbers are likely matched by the combined number killed in other protest sights throughout Cairo.

Many of those who were so mercilessly gunned down were young people, including seventeen-year-old Asma Beltagy, daughter of the Muslim Brotherhood leader, Muhammad Beltagy. Like virtually all of the people killed that day, she was unarmed and committed to the path of nonviolent change. Like all of the young people killed that day, she dreamed of a new Egypt committed to the rule of law. Like all of the young people murdered that day, she dreamed of a better Egypt, which had cast off its legacy of authoritarian rule and neo-colonization and in so doing had finally released its immense potential. Unfortunately, their dreams would not be fulfilled.

Like the old man in the starfish story, old men committed to the restoration of the authoritarian ancien regime questioned the wisdom, idealism and practicality of those young martyrs. Some declared they were rubbish deserving of their fate. To others they were accomplices to the “terrorists” seeking to destabilize the country. Others railed that their parents should not have placed them in harm’s way and bear the responsibility for their deaths –not the snipers, police, military and paramilitary forces. And, there are those who pontificated that they did not know their religion, which forbids even peaceful protests against those in power; theological wisdom seldom directed towards those protesting the Morsi regime.

There will be those who will question the wisdom, timing or judiciousness of even penning these words. Some will declare that the Egyptian people have spoken and Sisi is their preference, so get over it and move on. Others will argue that had the protest camps not been cleared Egypt would have been placed on a path that leads to the place Syria, Libya, Yemen, Afghanistan and Iraq currently occupy.

In response to these and other protesting voices, I simply say that these words are not intended to open old wounds or stir up old grievances. They are simply meant to tell those young people who are throwing starfish back into the sea to keep tossing. Young folks, when old men tell you that you are unrealistic, throw a starfish into the sea. When old men tell you that you are too idealistic, throw another starfish into the sea. When they tell you a storm is rushing towards the shore, so hurry home and protect yourself, defy the winds and rain and throw yet another starfish into the sea.

If we cannot stand and peacefully condemn those who are working to ensure another fifty years of authoritarian brutality in places like Egypt, and encourage our children to do the same, then whither our future generations? If we cannot tell them that the best Jihad is a word of truth spoken to a tyrannical ruler, then what do we have to prevent them from believing that the likes of ISIS, al-Qaeda or Boko Haram embody the best Jihad? If we cannot reveal to them the fallacy in the statement that the only choice before them is to cower silently in their homes or see their countries descend into the hell currently afflicting Libya, Syria, Yemen, Afghanistan or Iraq then what vision do we expect them to hold for the future?

There is a third less-traveled path that involves a principled advocacy of truth and justice coupled with a principled and uncompromising advocacy of nonviolence. If our societies are so fragile that such a path would threaten their demise, then the political community that Shariah injunctions governing protest and rebellion aims to preserve does not exist in the first place. This third path is the path of most of the young people who were killed on that fateful day in Rabia Square and elsewhere in Cairo. If we can at least remember them in an honorable manner, and encourage those coming after them to keep throwing those starfish back into the sea, they would not have died in vain.