Strangers in Our Homeland

Yesterday's topic of conversation during family lunch was surprising. It was a complaint I only expected my age group in our social circles to have. Funnily enough, my parents "feel like strangers in our own country". It saddens me to hear that they've come to share my discomfort in Egypt. I understand people like me when they claim to feel little for this country. We were born in an era where no allegiance was encouraged. We were born and continue to live under the same detached incumbent. We were born into bubbles of financial stability, air-conditioned cars, suburban neighbourhoods, hired help and private educations. We were born a caste unto ourselves, free from infiltration or mingling with the rest of our populace.

But our parents and grandparents were born at times of socioeconomic and political mobilizations. They grew up in times where patriotism was paramount, where you had reason to be proud to be Egyptian. They fought wars for their country. They elected their leaders. They mourned their leaders. Egypt had global status as the link between the East and West. Cairo was the Paris of the Orient. The Egyptian Pound held value. Even those who lived under Abdel Nasser had more love for this country than I ever could. They may have lived in hardship but they believed in a greater united Arab nation. There was an ideology to protect, even if it resulted in their own impecuniosity. Sadat brought Egypt prestige by standing up to the neighbourhood bully. He gave Sinai back to our people. He put Egypt back on the international affairs map. That made our parents proud to be Egyptian whether they agreed with his politics or not.

Egypt was a united nation where you did not know Muslim from Christian. Today, it is the first thing you want to know. More often than not, you don't even need to ask. Until our generation came of age, your country had a middle class that was comfortable without being ostentatiously wealthy. Today, you are either a prince or a pauper. There is no normal option. When our parents were in high school, they went through the public school system and lived productive, enriched lives. Today, there is no public school system. You either go to an expensive private school or receive no education, because what you are supposedly taught by the State does not even cover basic hygiene. Today, you can smell a person before they come into view. Today, you cannot cross a street in baggy clothes - or even in a veil - without being harassed. Today, if you do not speak a particular strain of Arabic, you are a foreigner. Today, if you are not one of the poor, the angry, the frustrated and the radical, you are not Egyptian.

I thought our parents still managed to feel at one with a rapidly deteriorating country because they lived through an important milestone in Egypt's modern history. They connected with the country on more than one level. They knew what it meant to be Egyptian. Unfortunately, it is this very knowledge that depresses them most today. They know what it meant to be Egyptian. They no longer identify with what it means to be Egyptian today. This saddens them beyond measure, because they must mourn their lost sense of self. My identity revolves around my Western education, my personal beliefs, my family, my goals and my accomplishments. I have no sense of self within my country. I never had and never will, so I have lost nothing.

Any emotion I feel towards Egypt is rooted in pity. I feel sorry for a fallen giant but I see no means to help it back up. And this, while is a sad state, does not move me in any meaningful way. This is not my land to worry about. It has never included me, never welcomed me, never nurtured me and never will. But it has abandoned my parents and their generation to the point of depression. To the point where they are actively considering emigration or at least a pied-à-terre elsewhere so that they can detox on a regular basis.

Imagine having to detox from your own homeland. What kind of life is that? What kind of country is that? As doleful as the status quo is, this is Egypt. And by the looks of things, this is Egypt for many generations to come.