KarmaMole The View From Here..

Al Shater


Khairat El Shater was in my apartment. Sitting on a sofa in the outside room. Only the sofa was where the chest is.

It was me and a friend, and Khairat El Shater.

And it’s like I was trying to talk El Shater into renouncing violence.

My argument went along these lines; that it’s understandable that you took up violence when the state was against you, and you had no peaceful means by which to fight them back, but since then – the population has now become far more active and far less passive, and if you united with the rest of the opposition rather than alienated yourselves from it all the time, then you would be able to draw on the huge masses that we’ve seen are willing to come down against oppression time and time again, and therefore, you don’t need to resort to violence anymore. The problem is, I could barely make my argument because the friend who was with me in the room, sitting by my right side, was too interested in just admonishing Khairat all the time rather than let me make my argument.

In between, a couple of times, Khairat did reply to me, but with basically archaic arguments that seemed to fit more within the context of us being in the year 600 AD or something, rather than now. For example, he said something about the multiple skill set required to go hunting for food. Yes, I didn’t get it either…

And for some reason, halfway through the dream, I noticed that El Shater (along with my sofa) – had relocated (crept slowly?) to the small hallway I have right at the main door to the apartment, like he was trying to slither out of the conversation entirely, or out of the apartment. Finally, I gave up, and while I was moving back into another room, I saw him get up and go into the small bathroom adjacent to the small entrance hallway. I wondered briefly if I should tell him there’s a bigger bathroom inside, but by the time I considered it, I’d woken up. 

Go figure.

About the author


KarmaMole is a nickname for Omar Kamel. He is a writer, musician, photographer, director, and producer. He makes things out of words and sounds and images. He spent three years of his life in a futile fight for a better future in Tahrir Square and has more opinions than any mortal man should be allowed. Some of them are on this blog.

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