Robert Fisk: Moment Egypt proved its revolution was real
JUST WHEN the Arab dictators desperately need to drink the secure, cool waters of an Arab summer, along came the Egyptians yesterday to poison the well.
Deep into its depths, those dictators could see a flickering enmeshed face, fragile, fingers playing over its nose and mouth, the arm of a man on a stretcher raised to prevent the light getting too close but -- for just a few brief moments -- with the same old arrogant eyes. Then the heavy black mike appeared in the man's left hand. "I am here, your honour," said a chillingly strong voice. "I have not committed any such crimes."
Yes, the Egyptians really did put their wretched, ancient dictator on trial yesterday, along with his effete, sullen sons -- both dressed in white as if heading for yet another summer tennis party, an illusion broken only by the green Koran under Alaa Mubarak's arm. An encouragement to his dessicated, 83-year-old father, Hosni? Or an insult to the dead?