RSSTout Entries Atenn Avèk: "David B.. Ottaway"

Arab demen an

DAVID B. OTTAWAY

Oktòb 6, 1981, te vle di yo dwe yon jou selebrasyon nan peyi Lejip. Li te make anivèsè pi gwo moman viktwa peyi Lejip la nan twa konfli Arab-Izrayèl, lè lame moun ki pa gen anyen nan peyi a t'ap travèse Kanal Suez la nan premye jou yo 1973 Yom Kippur Lagè ak voye twoup Izrayelyen yo anroule nan retrè. Sou yon fre, maten san nyaj, estad Cairo a te chaje ak fanmi moun peyi Lejip yo ki te vin wè militè a strut pyès ki nan konpitè li yo.Sou kanpe revizyon an., Prezidan Anwar el-Sadat,achitèk lagè a, te gade ak satisfaksyon kòm moun ak machin parad devan l '. Mwen te tou pre, yon korespondan etranje ki fèk rive.Switdenly, one of the army trucks halted directly in front of the reviewing stand just as six Mirage jets roared overhead in an acrobatic performance, painting the sky with long trails of red, yellow, purple,and green smoke. Sadat stood up, apparently preparing to exchange salutes with yet another contingent of Egyptian troops. He made himself a perfect target for four Islamist assassins who jumped from the truck, stormed the podium, and riddled his body with bullets.As the killers continued for what seemed an eternity to spray the stand with their deadly fire, I considered for an instant whether to hit the ground and risk being trampled to death by panicked spectators or remain afoot and risk taking a stray bullet. Instinct told me to stay on my feet, and my sense of journalistic duty impelled me to go find out whether Sadat was alive or dead.

Egypt at the Tipping Point ?

David B.. Ottaway
In the early 1980s, I lived in Cairo as bureau chief of The Washington Post covering such historic events as the withdrawal of the last
Israeli forces from Egyptian territory occupied during the 1973 Arab-Israeli war and the assassination of President
Anwar Sadat by Islamic fanatics in October 1981.
The latter national drama, which I witnessed personally, had proven to be a wrenching milestone. It forced Sadat’s successor, Hosni Mubarak, to turn inwards to deal with an Islamist challenge of unknown proportions and effectively ended Egypt’s leadership role in the Arab world.
Mubarak immediately showed himself to be a highly cautious, unimaginative leader, maddeningly reactive rather than pro-active in dealing with the social and economic problems overwhelming his nation like its explosive population growth (1.2 million more Egyptians a year) and economic decline.
In a four-part Washington Post series written as I was departing in early 1985, I noted the new Egyptian leader was still pretty much
a total enigma to his own people, offering no vision and commanding what seemed a rudderless ship of state. The socialist economy
inherited from the era of President Gamal Abdel Nasser (1952 to 1970) was a mess. The country’s currency, the pound, was operating
on eight different exchange rates; its state-run factories were unproductive, uncompetitive and deep in debt; and the government was heading for bankruptcy partly because subsidies for food, electricity and gasoline were consuming one-third ($7 billion) of its budget. Cairo had sunk into a hopeless morass of gridlocked traffic and teeming humanity—12 million people squeezed into a narrow band of land bordering the Nile River, most living cheek by jowl in ramshackle tenements in the city’s ever-expanding slums.