Happy Birthday, Egyptian Revolution

One year ago, a march from the Shubra district of Cairo kicked off 18 days of street fighting in Egypt. The revolution that began that day left 800 people dead, toppled a dictator and inaugurated a year of riots in the centre of capital cities worldwide. Yesterday, Egyptians marked that anniversary by taking to the streets.

Some people were there to celebrate, others to mourn and others to draw a line in the sand for the future. There must have been at least 250,000 people on the streets of central Cairo, jostling, milling and chanting. After weeks of worried speculation, it passed without violence. But that was yesterday – and the coming months are not likely to be so peaceful. Why was there no violence, despite the symbolic weight of the day, and despite the ferocious clashes of the winter? Partly because the army was careful not to provoke any: all but staying off the streets, and releasing the imprisoned activist blogger Maikel Nabil late Tuesday night. Partly, also, because a lot of people believe there to be some progress in the direction of democracy. The parliament here held its first session on Monday. A few hundred people protested, but it was fairly chilled out. This guy took that one step further. The most important thing about the revolution is the new mood of popular confidence and assertiveness. That expresses itself in the form of street marches and new unions in the factories, but also in the openness with which people talk to each other, on a day-to-day basis – the secret police might be listening, but they aren't feared like they were. Another expression of that new self-confidence is a nascent women's movement, which marched through town a couple of days before the 25th. On the big day, I joined the anniversary march from Shubra district to Tahrir Square. Eventually, after we'd waded through last night's rain, our march arrived in the densely packed square. The only people celebrating were the Muslim Brotherhood and the even more conservative Salafis. Predictably, it didn't look like much of a party; but they're happy because between them they have nearly 70 percent of the seats in the new parliament. They've got a tense but close working relationship with the army, who are still in charge until the presidential election slated for June. The army had announced that it was going to hold its own anniversary celebration in Tahrir for “honourable citizens”, but evidently they couldn't find anyone honourable enough to argue with several hundred thousand riled up revolutionaries – so it didn't happen. For others, it was a show of force, and a sharp reminder that many of the revolution's original goals remain uncompleted. I asked activist blogger Hossam al Hamalawy what he thought of the celebrations. “Those that are celebrating are trying to give the impression that the revolution is over. But we are hardly done with what we've started, and the goals of the revolution are largely not achieved. We got rid of Mubarak, which was a great achievement, but the army generals are still running the country”. Hossam al Hamalawy Even if the army manages not to meddle in the forthcoming elections, and hands over power peacefully to a civilian president, it's unlikely that the path will be smooth from there. Not only will the army continue to meddle behind the scenes, but there's a potential economic time bomb ticking. If the tourism drought continues and the amount of foreign money coming into the country dwindles further, then Egypt's currency will continue its slow collapse, and the price of bread – mostly made from imported wheat – is going to sky-rocket. Egyptians spend more than half their income on food, and this revolution was about bread as much as democracy. If Egypt's economy keeps shrinking, people are going to get pretty upset. Your local #occupy might be an Inspiring Model of a Post-capitalist Future (TM) or a dystopian drug den with little popular appeal and less personal hygeine. In your country, people might be throwing fire bombs at the police, or just plucking badly tuned guitars outside freezing tents. Whatever: it all began here in Cairo, and in Shubra. It turns out that we're all a bit more connected than we'd thought. So wish them luck. @tom_d_