We’re the ones who lost. We’re the ones who took to the streets in the hope that if there were enough of us out there, things would change. We’re the ones you saw down from your balconies, the ones you were kind enough to throw water bottles to, and the ones you felt proud to see your son and daughter join. We’re the ones who chanted and got gassed, and we scattered, and then always re-grouped, and our chanting got louder each time. We’re the ones who told the soldiers that we were not the enemy, that we were fighting for them while they fought against us. We’re the ones who swelled up with hope when we realized we weren’t as alone as we had been on the 24th of January. We’re the ones who saw a mad state murder and maim the purest and bravest young men and women that a country had to offer. We’re the ones that, briefly, earned the trust of an entire people through nothing but bravery and hope. We’re the ones you embraced, briefly, before you turned against us once again after fear took over your hearts and ravaged your reason. We’re the ones betrayed by the military, the brotherhood, and finally, the people themselves. We’re the ones who, despite all this, still have hope, still believe that change is inevitable, and that continue to hope that you’ll wake up from your slumber and join our ranks once again so that something can change. We’re the ones who insist that Egyptians should not have to live like this, that it’s possible to wake up to a better day.
We’re the ones who lost, but we’re also the ones who know it’s not over. We’re the ones who know there’s a limit to things, that it’s not always easy to tell when the people will rise, that the choices of an entire population are not simply yours to control. We’re the ones that see that your tower is made up of corpses unjustly slain, of prisons unjustly filled, of power abused, of blunt lies and arrogant deceptions. We’re the ones that know how fragile your structures are and that know that one day you will fall. We know that as you get older, we get younger, that as you claim the elderly, we claim the young, that as all your choices are decided by fear, ours are decided by hope, that in the end, you are the past, and we are the future, that in the final analysis; when you fight us you are fighting time itself.
We are time, and time always wins – eventually.
