Last month, on the third anniversary of the revolution of Jan. 25 that led to the ouster of President Hosni Mubarak, millions of Egyptians came out onto the streets carrying Egyptian flags and pictures of Gen. Abdul-Fattah el-Sisi, the army leader whom they considered their hero for siding with the will of the people and overthrowing the Muslim Brotherhood government in June. At the same time, supporters of the Brotherhood’s deposed president, Mohamed Morsi, continued their confrontations with the police, which resulted in 49 deaths and scores of injuries.
There was a third position taken by some of the young revolutionaries who played a role in ending Brotherhood rule last year, but were terrified at the prospect of the return of the police state they had opposed when Mr. Mubarak was in power. Two such people are Khaled el-Sayed, 30, and Nagy Kamel, 27, both engineers, who helped organize a demonstration against both a return of the Brotherhood and the Mubarak-style regime.
The demonstration had hardly started before it was set upon by the police, reportedly using tear gas and live ammunition, causing the demonstrators to flee for their lives.
After the protesters were dispersed, Mr. Sayed and Mr. Kamel went for lunch in the city center, where they were picked up and placed under arrest by the secret police, who charged them with possession of bombs for use in terrorist attacks. Prosecutors ordered both men to be held in custody for 15 days, pending investigation.
What happened to these two men is just one episode in a long series that has targeted young revolutionaries. Some have been sentenced to three years in prison just for organizing a peaceful demonstration without prior authorization.
These sentences are based on the law on demonstrations issued by the transitional government on Nov. 24, which has been widely criticized and has led several human rights organizations to issue a joint statement of protest. The statement noted that the law had been promulgated by an unelected government with no legislative authority, that it put unreasonable strictures on the right to peaceful assembly, and that it empowered the police to use lethal firepower.
Such oppressive measures previously met with stiff resistance, but now they are used on a daily basis and few Egyptians raise much of a voice in protest. This change of stance has a number of explanations. First, since Mr. Morsi was deposed, terrorists have been carrying out armed attacks and car bombings against the army, the police and churches, causing hundreds of fatalities among both military personnel and civilians; this campaign has led most Egyptians to give their support to the state in its fight against terrorism and to turn a blind eye to excesses committed by the security apparatus.
Second, the standard of living in Egypt three years after the revolution has deteriorated to the point where it is worse now than it was under Mr. Mubarak. Many Egyptians long for the reimposition of security and an improvement in the economy at any price.
The third reason is a systematic media campaign carried out by state television and the private channels owned by businessmen who used to back the Mubarak regime. This public relations effort aims to convey the notion that the January 2011 revolution was a plot by American intelligence agencies to remove Mr. Mubarak. It accuses the young revolutionaries of being traitors and paid agents of the West.
The campaign to discredit the activists has not provided any conclusive evidence, but it has had the effect of reducing their popularity to the extent that some well-known dissidents have been attacked by ordinary citizens. Last month, when a prominent activist, Esraa Abdel Fattah, went to vote in the referendum on the new constitution, she was surrounded by women who forcibly ejected her from the voting station to shouts of “enemy agent” and “traitor.”
This is a tragic turn of events. Those young revolutionaries stood up to the giant machine of oppression that was the Mubarak regime; they resisted the previous military council and rose up against the tyranny of the Muslim Brotherhood. They carried aloft the corpses of their comrades, shot by the police. They sacrificed so much to restore freedom and dignity for precisely those Egyptians who now accuse them of being traitors. A few days ago, someone posted a comment on Facebook that went viral:
“Fellow revolutionaries, we have been through the three most beautiful and difficult years of our life. We have tried to realize the dream but we now know that it has become impossible. Yet we keep on stating that it was a real dream, no matter how much they try to falsify history. None of us who have lived that dream will ever forget, or regret it, for a moment. As for those who have died in the service of the revolution, we say to you and your families that we apologize because we are not worthy of your sacrifices.”
The poster’s words clearly reflect the despair of this generation, a disillusionment that led many to abstain from voting in the constitutional referendum, which was approved by 98 percent of those who turned out.
Commenting on the abstentions, observers have noted that it has made the transitional government uneasy: Egypt’s prime minister has convened more than one meeting with representatives of the young revolutionaries. It has also led General Sisi to issue a statement confirming that there can be no return to the status quo that existed before Jan. 25.
Is the Egyptian revolution over, as the frustrated young Facebook poster declared? The answer is provided by recent official statistics that show that the country’s population has already reached 85 million, 60 percent of whom are under 29. It is these young people — the majority of the population — who made the revolution. It is they who, in the end, will win out, because they alone are the future.
Alaa Al Aswany is the author of the novel The Yacoubian Building. This article was translated by Russell Harris from the Arabic.