The showdown over the future of the country is far from over. Assem El-Kersh discusses the prospects and implications The revolutionary labour now continuing for more than two weeks drove out millions-strong throngs to the streets to call for an end to the regime and a better future. The result so far is partial agreement and considerable disagreement. Yet it has delivered on its promise at a breathtaking pace and compelled all to assume the responsibility of making the transition to a completely new Egypt. During the collective stampede towards change, hundreds of people fell tragic victims of violence while unanticipated developments of various sorts kept the equations of the game in constant flux. Soon enough, all the players -- the state, the street, the silent majority, the forces appealing for calm -- found themselves before a very tough choice between two types of legitimacy: constitutional, which has served as the nation's pillar for years and which seeks, given the new status quo, to ensure a peaceful and gradual transition of authority. The other is revolutionary legitimacy, which has its own temperament and mind and different priorities. Its aim is to press by means of unprecedentedly huge demonstrations for the immediate transition to a more dignified and brighter future. It dreams of genuine democracy, social justice, rule of law and freedom -- all common aspirations that have remained unfulfilled for too long. The only point in common between the rival advocates of these two forms of legitimacy is the need for Egypt to be reborn. Other than such an agreement, to which the two camps arrived for different reasons, there is a vast gap separating the two sides. There is considerable difference over the details regarding the desired features of the newborn and there is even greater disparity over questions of priorities, negotiating conditions and ceilings, and methods, procedures and, most crucially, timing of implementation. But above all, there is a seemingly unbridgeable gulf regarding the status of President Hosni Mubarak, whom the protesters indefatigably demand must leave or hand over power to Vice President Omar Suleiman as a precondition for negotiations. In return, the government just as adamantly insists that Mubarak should remain in office until the last day of his term in September so that he can depart with the dignity and honour due to him for his long record of service to the nation. As for the president himself, his mind appears set. He is continuing to perform the duties of his office and seems determined to fight it out until the end. So while Mubarak refuses to step down now, "so as not to leave the country prey to chaos," as he told ABC television a few days ago, the protesters continue to chant one of their favourite refrains: "Leave! We won't go. He should go". During the second week of demonstrations, protesters continued to stream into Tahrir Square in the heart of Cairo and into the largest square in central Alexandria. In parallel, the government and the revolutionaries via mediators engaged in mutual testing of pulses. But just as such efforts appeared to be making little progress in the form of some kind of breakthrough or concessions, the president announced the formation of three committees, one to study the necessary amendments to the constitution, a second to follow through on the implementation of what the parties to the national dialogue agree to, and a third to investigate the violent confrontations that took place in Tahrir Square on Wednesday 2 February and which claimed many lives. Then the vice president issued a statement in which he affirmed the government's commitment to a roadmap for reform and a timetable for the transition of power. He simultaneously cautioned that the alternative to dialogue and understanding would be "a coup" and that the overthrow of order or a coup would bring chaos which would drive the country into "the unknown, which no one wants." Meanwhile, Tuesday 8 February occasioned another mass turnout of unexpected and unprecedented magnitude in Tahrir Square, with some estimates placing the numbers of protesters there at more than a million. More than ever, therefore, all seems contingent upon General Time, on everyone's reserves of patience or tenacity, and on the strengths of either side. An equally important factor, however, is the possible repercussions from the grumbling on the part of the many who feel that this business is dragging on too long and want life to return to normal so that they can get back to work and so that the endless economic attrition can stop. So, nothing is certain in Egypt anymore. "The country's changed for good," as people are saying over and over again on the satellite television channels, in the opinion columns, and in the coffeehouses and the bread lines. No one would have ever predicted when the first demonstration took place on 25 January what would come next. The man whom the Egyptian people had known since he was made vice president in 1975 and who became president in 1981 had also evidently changed. He spoke to the people in a completely different way. He appeared to be bowing to the storm when he pledged to not run for another term. People also began to look at the "Facebook generation" with new eyes. These young men and women who had once been as remote as possible from politics suddenly managed to turn their simple dreams into a spontaneous revolution that overturned all established political norms in this 7,000-year-old country. The radical change switched the public mood, ways of thought and the behaviour of rulers and the ruled. It altered the political air Egyptians breathe, the types of aspirations they cherish and the way they claim their rights. All of a sudden Egyptians found themselves faced with a new reality. Their government for the first time ever apologised on air. Their army had moved its tanks into the streets. People stayed awake until dawn, either to guard their homes and families or to ensure the protests stay alive in the squares. The curfew certainly did not keep everyone in their homes as the police conspicuously vanished for incomprehensible reasons. In a tempest of rage the headquarters of the ruling party were set on fire, laying to rest the "hereditary succession" scenario and cutting short the party's "new thinking" with all its good and bad aspects. The widescale disturbance led to total paralysis and confusion struck government, finance and business, at the cost of billions of dollars. The scene around us looks so exceptional and defies understanding. Taboos are falling by the wayside. Newspapers are changing colours. After a week of caution and coverup, state television opened up while national newspapers are publicly praising the "noble" change and the prosecution of "the symbols of the regime". People are saying the word, "revolution", out loud, sometimes very loudly, without having to look behind them. Perhaps more surprising yet, representatives of the long outlawed Muslim Brotherhood are being invited to the presidential palace to take part in the dialogue on reform, having initially snubbed the offer and laid down their conditions. As for the vast square in the heart of Cairo, it became a sea of human beings punching their fists into the air, singing songs of freedom in the rain, and sleeping in tents or in the open. It is as if Tahrir has become a micro image of Egypt, with its crowds and worries, dreams and realities. Half of Egypt rallied to protest and rebel against the uglier realities of life, while the other half preferred to wait. Half remained in the street; the other half sat mesmerised in front of the television screens to get the latest news. Events elsewhere in the world seemed irrelevant however important they were. Many did not seem to have paused for long at the echoes coming from distant gloating capitals trying to dictate orders. Few cared that the south of Sudan finally opted to secede and hardly showed interest in the talks over the formation of a new government in Lebanon. Even developments in Tunisia, whose syndrome is spreading around the Arab world, garnered little attention anymore. Not surprisingly new words were being added to the Egyptian lexicon and old words were being rediscovered: "departure", "fury", "devolving of power", "committee of the wise", "popular committees", "accountability", "riding the wave", "abandoning ship", and "the game is over" (proclaimed by many demonstrators in the middle of the square to show that there is no turning back). Revolutions are mysterious creatures. They do not come with instruction manuals or in any one shape or form. Therefore, in the midst of a revolution it is never easy to predict what might come next or how it will morph. This certainly applies to the 25 January Revolution, all the more so in view of the fact that it has no clearly identifiable leadership, executive body, written manifesto or even someone to represent the revolutionaries publicly, or in negotiations. This factor, in particular, is what most complicates the already confused attempts to mediate and to overcome the intransigence on both sides. Not that there has been any shortage of volunteers to act as mediator. A whole stream of politicians with some very impressive names have stepped forward to offer their time, effort, expertise and suggestions to help end the stalemate. We now have committees of wise men, calls for a constitutional assembly and for a national salvation government. Perhaps it is because of this confusion that none of the responses, pledges, declarations of intent or measures announced by the government has produced their hoped for effect. On the other hand, this might also be because such concessions were not regarded as satisfactory or enough. Simply put, there is a crisis in confidence that keeps many in the protest movement from believing anything the government proposes in order to find a way out. The upshot is that at the end of two weeks of revolution the situation looks even more foggy. The saying goes "a week in politics is a lifespan". In Egypt, it looks like that gauge has changed as well: every day in politics alters the country forever. This morning there is no sign of an approaching agreement. It is impossible to predict what will come next; the situation seems open to all possibilities. If we are already seeing the head of the newborn emerging, the difficult labour pangs will probably continue for some time. It may last until autumn if not beyond to next winter, when Egypt will enter its post-Mubarak era.
