Revolutionary Discourse In the Arab Spring: Our Tools In the Deconstruction of Corruption
Bread, Freedom, Social Justice, by Ahmad Hammoud. Published on January 31, 2012. Licensed by Flickr.

Revolutionary Discourse In the Arab Spring: Our Tools In the Deconstruction of Corruption

Delving into the heart of the Arab Spring uprising of 2011, this article unveils the transformative power that discourse holds, encapsulating the profound demands for ‘bread, freedom, and justice,’ and their enduring resonance in the aftermath of a revolution.

How does one encapsulate decades of anguish and adversity within the confines of a mere phrase? The very endeavour appears paradoxical, attempting to distil the depths of the human experience into finite words. Yet, within this paradox lies the very essence of humanity—our innate ability and proclivity to portray profound struggle within the boundaries of speech. In the face of unimaginable suffering, words become our tools in the deconstruction of corruption. They carry the echoes of generations past, the aspirations of those in the present. “Power to the people”  “¡Viva la Revolución!” —“Bread, Freedom, Social Justice”.

Aīsh, huriyya, ‘adāla igtimā’iyya, otherwise known as “bread, freedom, social justice’’ were, ultimately, the key demands of Egyptian protesters in early 2011.  Alongside their relative quotability, these words embody political and spiritual manifestations much grander than their linguistic limitations, with a metaphysical turn of phrase standing as the very anthem of a movement that shook the pillars of power.

While spoken in the streets of Cairo, these words ring beyond borders and resonate with millions who yearn for change–a universal score. With a revolutionary tone, they can transcend language and culture, and speak loud and clear to the universal desire for a world where every voice matters, and where every life is valued. What is clearer than ever in our contemporary landscape is that we cannot underestimate the transformative power that words and a specific society’s epistemological discourse can hold.

These outcries first found resonance in The Arab Spring of 2011, marked by immense widespread protests and demands for political reform across the Arab world. Yet, a naivete accompanies those who view the Arab Spring as a mere series of revolts rather than a collective awakening; the reimagining of the human spirit under a judicial body. This dawn of dissent was most notably remembered by its unprecedented wave of mass mobilisation and civil unrest, marking a complete paradigm shift in the region’s sociopolitical landscape. As protests swelled in Cairo’s renowned Tahrir Square and across Egypt, the world watched with bated breath as history unfolded. The resilience and determination of the Egyptian people, from all walks of life and across generations, captured the imagination of millions not only in the Arab world but around the globe.

With an era comparable to a fragile tinderbox waiting to ignite ferociously, decades of autocratic rule had simply stifled long-standing dissent and perpetuated deeply entrenched socio-economic injustices within the Arab world. Egypt, the most populous Arab nation and a known longstanding bastion of authoritarian rule under President Hosni Mubarak, is where these winds of change began to blow with increasing intensity. Buoyed by the success of their Tunisian counterparts, Egyptian activists and ordinary citizens took to the streets, demanding an end to Mubarak’s three-decade-long reign of autocracy; It is here where the civilian attempts to “market” their struggle into a quote worthy of being repeated, of being heard, of being listened to. This is where aīsh, huriyya, ‘adāla igtimā’iyya is born: at its heart lay these simple yet profound demands encapsulated and hidden beneath a meager three words. 

Aīsh, bread: transcending its trivial physical form as dietary sustenance, it embodies something not only capable of sustaining the body but most significantly, the soul. In societies where bread is more than just a commodity, its scarcity is emblematic of broader systemic failures and socioeconomic disparities. Its presence alone signifies a proverbial cry against hunger, against deprivation, against a system that had by all accounts failed to provide for its people in the most basic of ways. Its innate capability lies in its ability to speak to the fundamental right of every individual: to live a life of dignity, free from the shackles of poverty.

Huriyya, freedom: the cherished birthright of every human being. It was a cry to break free from the chains of long-standing oppression. It was an outright declaration that liberty was not a “negotiable” procedure and that no walls could contain the yearning for self-determination and self-expression of the people. The demand for freedom echoed the universal longing of “the self”, defying all attempts to suppress the voices of the Arab people.

Lastly, ‘adāla igtimā’iyya, social justice: the rightful cornerstone of a fair and equitable society. It was a demand for a world where privilege and power were not concentrated in the hands of the few elites but distributed among the many. It was a clear vision of a society where justice wasn’t just a flight of fancy ideals, but a lived reality for all, regardless of class, creed, or colour.

Yet, like all revolutions, the Arab Spring was not without its challenges and setbacks. The initial euphoria of change, that insatiable and intoxicating sense of profound possibility that permeated the air in Tahrir Square and beyond, gave way to the very harsh realities of politics and power struggles.

The drafting of a new constitution, initiated with the intention of enshrining principles of pluralism, human rights, and the rule of law, ultimately became mired in controversy and contention. Likely, Mubarak’s ouster is what quickly resulted in a protracted struggle for power and influence. The ‘supposed’ promise of democracy, administered by the historic presidential elections of 2012, was, instead, overshadowed by deep political polarisation. Furthermore, the rise of the Muslim Brotherhood, followed by its controversial ouster from power in 2013, laid bare the fault lines within Egyptian society and its body politic. The enactment of restrictive laws, cloaked in the guise of “national security”, cast a suffocating veil over the once vibrant spaces of dissent and discourse that first left the world in awe. Assemblies were disbanded, media outlets silenced, and civil society organizations stifled, leaving the voices of activists and reformers yet again suppressed.  

But even in the midst of this chaos, the spirit of Aīsh, huriyya, ‘adāla igtimā’iyya endured. It lived on in the hearts of those who refused to be silenced, in those who continued to fight for justice and dignity, and as an omnipresent reminder that true change is not born overnight, but through the tireless efforts of those encumbered and committed to the cause of freedom and equality.

As we reflect on the legacy of the Arab Spring, let us not forget the lessons it taught us. Let us heed those who dared to imagine a world where bread, freedom, and social justice were not just words, but tangible and lived realities for all. The power of words lies not only in their ability to convey meaning but in their capacity to inspire, widely mobilise, and generate change. In the corridors of history, we find that it is often the spoken word, the written verse, that becomes the rallying cry of revolutions and the beacon of hope for generations to come. It is what we find ourselves repeating years later, despite whatever the outcome may be. The transformative power of discourse is to weld it with wisdom and intentionality, for it is through our words that we shape the future and chart a course of universal justice.

Edited By Susana Baquero Salah

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