Lara
El-Gibaly, a junior at the American University in Cairo, eagerly anticipated
the start of the Spring Semester. A nineteen-year-old journalism major, she was
preparing to take the helm as editor in chief of AUC’s student newspaper, the
Caravan. During the winter break, she had an internship at the Cairo Bureau of Al Jazeera, the Qatar-based satellite
television news network. Instead of performing mundane chores like shuffling
through incoming faxes, however, she suddenly found herself doing something quite
extraordinary: covering a revolution.
No
journalism class could have prepared her for what happened next. As the mass
uprising got underway in Tahrir Square, El-Gibaly choked back the effects of
tear gas that enveloped protesters emerging from a nearby mosque in defiance of
baton-wielding police. In the days that followed, she served as a field
producer for profiles of youth activists and a story on a fourteen-year-old boy
shot to death while out buying bread. At one point, she and other Al Jazeera personnel
went into hiding after state security operatives moved in to shut down the Al
Jazeera bureau. “We had to put on disguises and leave the hotel with crazy exit
plans, things I imagined only happen in movies,” she recalls.
As the
revolution tugged at El-Gibaly’s patriotic heartstrings, she remained determined
to fulfill her professional responsibilities. “There were times I wanted to
participate in the infectious chants,” she says. “I’d be tapping my foot and
snapping my fingers to the beat, but I had to tell myself what I was doing was
contributing just as much to
the revolution—getting the truth out there.”
"I suddenly have a sense of ownership in this country and I have a sense of purpose. I need to rebuild Egypt. That’s what I want to spend my life doing.”
El-Gibaly
was one of countless AUC students, professors, staff members, and alumni who
participated in one way or another in Egypt’s remarkable eighteen-day
revolution in January and February. At times, the downtown campus
directly on Tahrir Square became a battleground; without the university’s
consent, security forces used rooftops to fire on demonstrators below. Wael
Ghonim, a Google executive who earned an MBA from AUC in 2007, became a symbol
of the revolution after organizing the protests via Facebook and being detained
for twelve days. He shot to international prominence after giving an emotional
interview about his role to Egyptian television presenter Mona El-Shazly, another
AUC graduate.
El-Gibaly’s
friend and classmate, Sarah Abdelrahman, twenty-three, also found unexpected
fame—she appeared with other students on the cover of TIME magazine,
illustrating a story about a generation changing the world. A drama student
more accustomed to memorizing lines than dodging tear gas canisters, she
quickly took to the streets and started learning how to make Molotov cocktails.
Abdelrahman
relates a tale of personal change that is echoed by many young Egyptian
revolutionaries. She recalls that on the eve of the protests, she had voiced
her decision to leave Egypt upon graduation, to pursue studies and possibly her
entire future abroad. Filled with national pride amid the revolution, however,
she changed her birthdate on her Facebook page to January 25 to symbolize her
rebirth as an Egyptian citizen. “Fear controlled us, but not anymore,” she
explains. “I suddenly have a sense of ownership in this country and I have a
sense of purpose. I need to rebuild Egypt. That’s what I want to spend my life
doing.”
Gigi
Ibrahim, twenty-four, made such a commitment after graduating from AUC in 2010.
A self-styled activist and citizen journalist, recognizable by her Palestinian
keffiyeh, she organized labor strikes at the university prior to the
revolution. Living in Tahrir Square for the eighteen days of protests, she
amassed ten thousand followers on Twitter, spoke as an expert commentator on
international news networks, and became a subject in the PBS Frontline
documentary Revolution in Cairo, aired in late February. “The celebrity factor is a little
weird,” Ibrahim says. “This is something I have always done and will continue
to do, whether I have media attention or not. Usually people just complain
about problems. They take a stand but just watch. I like to lead by example and
be the change I want to see.”
In common
with many AUC students and recent graduates, Ibrahim is experiencing a dual
transformation—as an Egyptian citizen in the revolution, and as a daughter in
her Egyptian family. “I struggled every day with my family, especially my dad,
who didn’t believe in what I did,” recalls Ibrahim, who earned a degree in
political science. She is pleased to report success on both fronts. “They now
support me,” she says. “That’s a huge relief and victory. I feel blessed and
humble and lucky to have witnessed and taken part.”