About two weeks ago, as I was walking through downtown Cairo near Tahrir Square, a moment caught my eye: several people were standing on a balcony above the busy street, watched by the police, waving Palestinian and Lebanese flags as music played in the background. It was small, almost fleeting, but in today’s Cairo, where public displays of solidarity face severe restrictions, it was a profound moment. Tahrir Square was the heart of Egypt’s revolution in 2011, but has since been reshaped, both physically and symbolically. But this small gesture, in the shadow of Tahrir, carried an undeniable power. It reminded me of the resilience of those who continue to find ways to express themselves.
A week before that, a demonstration had been held in Zamalek in support of Gaza and Lebanon against Israeli aggression. After no more than 15 minutes of chanting sentences like “from Cairo, a thousand greetings to the Lebanese resistance” and “we are with you, Palestine,” the six demonstrators were arrested by police. Two of them were foreigners; after only a day in detention, they were deported and banned from returning. The Egyptians in the group were detained for longer, but eventually released on bail of E￡5,000 (about $100).
This was just one of the many eruptions in Egypt the past year. In November 2023, four foreign nationals were forcibly expelled from Egypt after protesting for Palestine in front of the Foreign Ministry in Cairo. A few months later, in April, about 19 people were arrested outside the UN Women’s regional office in Maadi after protesting for women in Gaza and Sudan. In May, two Egyptian students were violently detained for 15 days on charges of joining a terrorist organization and publishing false news after expressing solidarity with Palestine. During this time, the total number of detainments in Egypt since October 7 was 91, including three minors.
Since the military-backed government took power in 2013, strict protest laws have been introduced, requiring all organized public demonstrations with ten or more participants to gain security permits. They serve to limit dissent and establish state control over public spaces following the 2011 uprising. The law grants security forces broad discretion to deny permits and arrest those at unapproved gatherings. But even state-approved events face limitations: in October 2023, a sanctioned Palestinian solidarity protest, framed as a show of support for Egypt’s leadership, resulted in the arrest of 43 participants. Another pro-Palestine protest in the same month, held outside Cairo’s Journalists Syndicate, seemed to have received approval, but authorities detained several prominent journalists and organizers who led chants. These examples stress how tightly Egypt controls public expression, dampening the spirit of open dissent that thrived between 2011 and 2013.
This pattern of selective permission and enforcement reveals how the state keeps control over not only those that gather, but also over those that can speak. A striking example is the American University in Cairo (AUC), a private, Western-affiliated institution that has emerged as a rare site of freedom of speech. On October 9, AUC students held a march in solidarity with Palestine and Lebanon at the university campus. Here, students were able to safely engage in activism, buffered by the university’s privileged status and its ties to Egypt’s elite and foreign communities. This highlights the disparity between what is allowed within privileged classes and what is tolerated for the broader Egyptian population. Cairo’s general population faces significant barriers to any forms of organized dissent, starkly contrasting to AUC’s ability to protest.
But Egypt’s control over public expression goes much further than just protest, reaching into speech, assembly, and Egyptians’ everyday lives. The recent surge in social media posts commemorating Ayman Moussa’s birthday serves as a reminder of these restrictions’ human costs. Ayman was a student and athlete; in 2013, he was arrested during a protest and sentenced to 15 years in prison at 19 years old. The climate of fear, reinforced by stories like Ayman’s, casts a shadow over daily life in Egypt. For many young Egyptians, the prospect of surveillance or arrest hangs over even moderate expressions of dissent, discouraging them from participating in civic life and weakening the foundations of civil society. Egypt’s younger generations are left feeling disconnected and disempowered, growing up in an environment where it’s normalized to stay quiet – a reality that not only threatens personal freedoms but also the potential for an engaged and resilient Egyptian society.
However, hope lies in the national memory of resistance and renewed anger over the war on Gaza. Egypt’s 2011 revolution, with its powerful calls for freedom, remains an inspiration for many yearning for a voice. This spirit has resurfaced in this year’s pro-Palestine expressions; besides protests, cultural symbols all over Cairo – Palestinian flags on cars, music, and art – serve as subtle acts of solidarity. While state narratives avoid open support, public sympathy runs deep, fueling frustration. This persistent sense of discontent suggests that, despite strict controls, Egypt’s spirit of resistance endures.
These acts of solidarity for Palestine, big and small, not only reflect a deep-seated public sympathy but also the traces of resistance that cannot be easily extinguished. Despite state efforts to silence dissent, many Egyptians continue to find ways to push back. As new crises emerge, Egyptians are reminded of the revolutionary spirit, inspiring the current generation to reclaim their voices.
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