ABSTRACT
In the past decades, we have gotten used to the fact that important international events are dubbed “breaking news” and covered ad nauseam from top to bottom, much more than a well-informed person would need. So we watched that intrusive report on Tiananmen (1989), and the popular revolutions against the tyrants of Eastern Europe (1989–90), including the executions of their leaders, minute by minute, to the point that we felt as though we were taking part in the news, not just watching them. This was also the case at the beginning of the Spring, when it was still considered an Arab Spring, and the hopes attached to it reached the sky. After Tunisia, Egypt rapidly drew our attention to the point that the large gatherings in Tahrir Square (which is in fact a roundabout), the cascades of messages in social media, the ceaseless demonstrations in the streets under the open eyes of the international networks, and the takeover by the army—which brought an end to the thirty-year rule of Mubarak—all became part of our daily schedule. The waning away of Mubarak, who had grown synonymous with government in Egypt and became a permanent fixture in his palaces, was somehow subsumed under the cataract of events. Then, that very same image rolled on to Libya, Yemen, Bahrain, Syria, and back. It seemed that the entire Arab world was in turmoil and that after some weeks of disorder, order was bound to fall back into place. Little did we know that even the second year of the upheaval did not see the turmoil end, and what seemed a transitory phase of rebellion pending a settlement seemed to stabilize into a permanent situation of unease, uncertainty, and rage.
