Revolution 2.0. Wael Ghonim

idea, calling it a helpless tactic in the face of the Ministry of Interior’s aggression. The fact remains, however, that our cause gained significant momentum through this awareness campaign.

      The strategy for the Facebook page ultimately was to mobilize public support for the cause. This wasn’t going to be too different from using the “sales tunnel” approach that I had learned at school. The first phase was to convince people to join the page and read its posts. The second was to convince them to start interacting with the content by “liking” and “commenting” on it. The third was to get them to participate in the page’s online campaigns and to contribute to its content themselves. The fourth and final phase would occur when people decided to take the activism onto the street. This was my ultimate aspiration.

      I remember debating about all this with Marwa Awad, a correspondent working for Reuters. I, of course, wore my Google hat at the time, and was speaking to her solely as an Internet expert. Marwa believed strongly in the need for change, but like many other Egyptians, she did not think that online activism could create the critical mass needed on the street for achieving real results. People feared the emergency law and the threat it posed to those who opposed the regime or its practices. Yet I was convinced that we could make the leap from the virtual world to the real one. It was going to happen someday, somehow.

      The page needed to speak directly to its members and convince them to be active participants, and it was also important to break free from all the barriers of fear that controlled so many of us. So I came up with an idea that served both goals: I asked members to photograph themselves holding up a paper sign that said “Kullena Khaled Said.” Hundreds of members did so, and we began to publish their pictures on the page. The images created an impact many times stronger than any words posted on the page. Males and females of all backgrounds, aged between fourteen and forty, now personified the movement. The solidarity extended to expatriate Egyptians around the world and to Arabs in many countries — even Algeria, a soccer rival that had defeated Egypt in a World Cup qualifier, leading to heavy violence breaking out among the fans and to feelings of bitterness in citizens of both nations.

      Isra, my seven-year-old daughter, had seen some of Khaled Said’s photos on my laptop and asked who he was. I explained that he was a good person killed by the police. She innocently said, “Aren’t the police supposed to be good? Don’t they protect the people?”

      “Yes, but some policemen in Egypt are bad,” I replied.

      Later that day, Isra came to my room to show me a drawing she had made. It showed a policeman shooting at a young man carrying the Egyptian flag. She told me that the young man was Khaled Said. I hugged her and told her how much I appreciated the fact that she cared about others, and that I was proud of the way she expressed solidarity with them using her own skills. I decided to post the drawing on “Kullena Khaled Said” and wrote that our coming generations would not tolerate humiliation and torture.

      One picture the page received drove this point home; a pregnant woman sent us an ultrasonographic image of her fetus with a caption that read: “My name is Khaled, and I’m coming to the world in three months. I will never forget Khaled Said and I will demand justice for his case.”

      The images worked like magic. Members thanked each other for their courage and solidarity. Such admiration and instant positive interaction encouraged even more members to post their pictures. The fact that the regime had not retaliated in any way also made it easier for many people to participate. The barriers of fear were slowly being torn down.

      A few days following Khaled Said’s murder, opposition newspapers and some private television channels began supporting the cause. I asked page members to apply pressure to TV talk shows. Together, we compiled the telephone numbers of the different talk shows and posted them on the page. I encouraged everyone to call in and demand that show hosts discuss the case of Khaled Said. Earlier, some shows had attacked Khaled, while others had tried to remain neutral. A few had supported his cause, and we were hoping they would now increase in number.

      The controversy grew. On June 15, Egypt’s public prosecutor transferred the case to special prosecution and ordered a second autopsy to confirm the cause of death. This decision amounted to a small victory for our cause and only served to excite us.

      At about that time I noticed an outbreak of comments on the page attacking Khaled, calling him the Martyr of Marijuana, an addict, and a drug dealer. It was such a strong and sudden trend that I decided to investigate. As expected, I discovered that the Electronic Committee of the NDP was behind it. The committee was attempting to convince people that the regime was not responsible for Khaled’s death and that he was a dishonorable and unworthy human being. Yet we stayed focused. We were not going to allow such below-the-belt tactics to diminish our enthusiasm and passion for this just cause. It was clear that many page members felt the same way.

      Mohamed, 26, Alexandria: How about if we all gather along the Alexandria coast on Friday? We would face the sea with our backs to the street holding hands in silent expression of our disapproval of the injustice inflicted upon Khaled Said. We should try to cover the stretch between the Alexandria Library and Muntazah. It’s not a demonstration, but a silent expression of disapproval.

       431 Likes 152 Comments

      This idea was sent to the page’s e-mail account from Mohamed Eisa, whose full name I did not want to publish on the page so as to avoid endangering his life. I found his suggestion to be very reasonable. A silent demonstration was proactive but not provocative. The general reaction to the idea was positive, and most of the members’ comments expressed agreement. I announced the date and time for the following Friday and asked for all suggestions that would help bring the idea to fruition.