This article is, in fact, a letter. To be honest, the idea is not mine; it was inspired by an Arab-German friend in Stuttgart who urged me to send a message to the European youth who stood in solidarity—and still do to this day—with the Arab Revolutions. These revolutions, in turn, inspired them to launch their own Occupy Movements and establish their own Tahrir Squares across Europe. Not only as a show of solidarity with us in the south but also as an act of defiance against their own exploitative and corrupt political and business elites. Over the past year, I’ve seen countless photos from across the continent of Occupy demonstrations, many of them bearing signs declaring: ‘Tahrir is Here.’ This moved me deeply and made me agree, without hesitation, to write this letter.

My dear friends across the Mediterranean,

I have been truly touched and moved by the reports of your solidarity with our uprisings here in the Arab World. To be frank, we never thought of relying on it, nor did we expect it—especially in the beginning, when your leaders openly competed to show their support for our dictators, their long-time allies. Seeing you take to the streets in solidarity with our cause, defending our basic right to live with dignity, meant the world to us.

Amid the horrific violence and aggression our peaceful revolutions faced from such brutal regimes, it brought both laughter and tears to see some of you, through satellite broadcasts, chanting in Arabic: ‘al-sha’b yureed isqat al-nezam’ (The people want the regime down). It was music to our ears, uplifting our spirits in the darkest moments. It showed us, unequivocally, that humans—despite all the divisions we are taught to see as insurmountable—can unite around simple and universal human values.

We have ignited revolutions across our region, defying all logic and expectations. At first, we may have seemed weak to those who live in a world that values only money and military power. But we proved to ourselves, and to the world, that peaceful resistance, even when met with violence, is undeniably stronger.

Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, and Yemen have managed to consign their dictators to the waste dump of history, where they belong. Other criminals are not far from sharing the same fate. But we have learned that toppling a tyrant is not the end of a revolution—it is merely the first step on a long and arduous journey.

‘Bread, freedom, social justice’ was the slogan and remains the goal of the revolution. Have we achieved it yet? Clearly not. While launching a revolution against political, economic, and social injustice is no small feat, the far greater challenge lies in realising these three values. It is not just about removing a bloodsucker from the top of a nation; it is about uniting a people—bringing them together to confront the ignorance and ‘manufactured ignorance’ instilled in their minds over generations. It is about rallying them against the deeply entrenched remnants of the old regime, which have yet to be fully dismantled.

Take Egypt as an example. A magnificent uprising toppled one of the world’s longest-standing dictators, a man who was supported and even cherished by your governments in the north. But have the people achieved their goals? Not even close. The struggle continues against a regime that remains largely intact. The military, fearful of true justice being served, clings to power for a very simple reason: they know full well they belong behind bars.

We will NOT forget the blood of those who were killed, injured, kidnapped, or disappeared while protesting and fighting for our freedom. To forget would be an even greater crime. We will not abandon peaceful resistance until we achieve justice, the rule of law, equality, and freedom for all—women and men of every ethnicity and belief who share this land. Only then can our revolution be deemed a true success.

It is a long and exhausting journey to achieve these basic human demands. I must admit, I was afraid in Tahrir Square—at times, genuinely terrified. I remember being struck by a bullet in the stomach during the infamous Mohamed Mahmoud massacre, which I witnessed from beginning to end. Fortunately, the bullet was fired from too far away to cause injury—I only felt its impact. I also remember my first experience of being attacked with tear gas, a moment when I feared suffocating to death. Then came the use of an ‘unidentified’ gas, far more terrifying, as it completely robbed you of the ability to breathe.

Despite it all, we endured. We learned. We developed skills to cope with these attacks and to remain steadfast in the square.

Looking back, I see now that all of the above is not as frightening as it seemed at the time. The most dangerous weapon we face is not bullets or gas, but the ignorance imposed on us for decades. The remnants of the old regime continue to operate, using the military, wealth, and state and elite private media to manipulate vulnerable segments of society for their own interests.

But do not worry. This is an ongoing battle, and one day we will undoubtedly win. Why? Because, as we say in Arabic, ‘Lying has no legs.’ They are liars, and the truth will always prevail.

Yet, the price is heavy. It is paid in blood, in lost time, and in the postponement of dreams that could be realised today instead of tomorrow. This delay provides opportunities for dark forces, emboldened by the freedoms we brought to life through our sacrifices, to try and hijack the revolution for their own ends.

It may appear, at times, that they are succeeding. But rest assured, they will not. We are vigilant, and we are learning from past experiences.

My dear friends across the sea we have shared for millennia,

Before I end this letter, I want you to know that the solidarity and moral support you have shown in the streets of Europe for our demands has been, and remains, of immense value to us. Every day, through social media, we learn about your own ongoing fight for justice and equality. You might believe that your support for us is merely a moral position. It is not. It goes far beyond that.

Your solidarity exposes your corrupt and unethical governments for what they are and challenges them for the sake of a better future for both of us. These are the same governments that supported—and continue to support—Arab tyrants in exchange for oil, a false sense of stability, and fear of the unknown. That unknown is nothing more than the possibility that ordinary people might gain the power to decide their own futures.

We have learned that the ‘hatred’ many of us in the south once felt toward the West was misplaced. We now understand that it is not directed at the people—it is directed at the Western governments. Not at you, our dear friends.

We do not want aid or financial support from you or your governments. Such aid has brought nothing but damage, injustice, and corruption to our region. Ours is a resource-rich part of the world, but your governments have impoverished its people through exploitative and short-sighted practices. These practices harm not only us but, eventually, you as well—the youth of a Europe that is old and ethically bankrupt.

Keep fighting for better use of the taxes you pay. Demand that your governments stop funnelling money to the dictators in our region. Protect the welfare states, freedoms, and accountability that your grandparents fought so hard to establish. Do not let today’s elites destroy the basic rights that previous generations struggled to secure. Fight for justice and transparency, both within your own countries and in your relations with other nations. In the end, it is you—the taxpayers, the workers—who pay the price, not those sitting comfortably behind closed doors.

Break down those doors. Reconstruct your political systems to bring justice and equality to yourselves. Perhaps, someday soon, we will all be able to live in a peaceful world where humans respect and love one another.

Thank you for your solidarity. 

Your message has been heard.

Together for justice and freedom,
Maher Hamoud
Cairo, Egypt

April 2012

This article was originally published in English.