On 30 June, the sound of wooden clogs being banged together filled the evening air of Cairo's elegant suburb of Zamalek. Thousands of protesters stood before the Ministry of Culture premises in Shagaret Al-Dorr Street banging pairs of wooden clogs and chanting slogans against Egypt's President Mohamed Morsi and the Muslim Brotherhood against the background of the rhythmic beats. “Leave… Leave… Leave,” “leave means go out,” “raise your voices, we don't want the revolution to die,” “Egyptians, police and army are one,” and “Muslims and Christians are hand-in-hand against sectarian strife,” the protesters chanted. “We are here to protest against the fascist regime of Morsi who has done nothing except to divide Egypt,” said Mona Ammar, a housewife and a local resident. Ammar told Al-Ahram Weekly that using the folkloric Egyptian wooden clogs in the protests was a way of bringing back the story of the 13th-century sultana Shagaret Al-Dorr, who gave her name to the street in which the ministry stands. According to Egypt's Islamic history, Shagaret Al-Dorr took the throne after the death of her Ayoubid husband Sultan Al-Saleh Ayoub, taking the title of sultana. She married the military commander Ezzeddin Aybak and her reign lasted for seven years from 1250 to 1257 CE. However, by 1257 disputes and suspicions marked the relationship between the two. Shagaret Al-Dorr was reluctant to share her rule with her husband, so she concealed state affairs from him and insisted that he divorce his second wife. Aybak, who wanted to form an alliance with a strong emir who would help him against the threat of the Mamluks in Syria, decided to marry the daughter of the Ayoubid prince Al-Mousil Badreddin Loaloa. Feeling betrayed by Aybak, the man whom she had made sultan, Shagaret Al-Dorr had her servants kill Aybak. She then claimed that he had died suddenly in the night, but she was not believed and was arrested along with her servants. The Mamluk Prince Qutoz wanted to kill her, but the Salihya Mamluks protected her and sent her to captivity in Cairo's Red Tower. When Aybak's 15-year-old son Al-Mansour Ali became sultan, he ordered palace servants to beat Shagaret Al-Dorr to death with wooden clogs. She was buried in a mausoleum next to the Ibn Tulun Mosque in Cairo. “We are using the clogs as a warning message to Morsi that if he does not bow to Egyptians' demands, then the residents of Shagaret Al-Dorr Street will act like Aybak's second wife,” Ammar said, jokingly. Another resident, Lobna Sorour, said that when residents had suggested the idea of beating the clogs, the intellectuals and artists occupying the ministry building had approved the idea and promoted it. For almost a month now, dozens of artists, intellectuals, filmmakers and novelists have been occupying the Ministry of Culture building, declaring an open-ended sit-in until the newly appointed minister, Alaa Abdel-Aziz, is replaced. The crisis started in May when Abdel-Aziz took office despite opposition to this relatively unknown figure's appointment from many within the cultural scene. Opposition became more heated when Abdel-Aziz began dismissing key figures in Egypt's cultural institutions, allegedly aiming to frustrate various cultural programmes. Producer Mohamed Al-Adl provided a large collection of wooden clogs for the protests against Abdel-Aziz and Morsi, distributing them among the protesters along with Egypt's flags in different sizes and posters on which “go out” was written. The protesters were also using red cards like those used in football matches to stop or warn a player. “Raise your voices! Come out of your homes and protest! We don't want the revolution to die,” the artists chanted to the rhythmic sound of the clogs that echoed across the entire neighbourhood, inviting people from nearby buildings to join the march. Most chants focussed on the importance of the arts and culture, the role of artists as opposition voices, and the close ties between the people and the army and police. The artists held up red cards expressing their discontent with Morsi's government. Some elderly people walking with canes also showed up at certain stages of the march. “I am too old to join the march,” Aliya Seif, an 80-year-old elegantly dressed woman told the Weekly. Standing beside the entrance of her home with her cane in one hand and the Egyptian flag in the other, Seif said that although she was too old to walk from Zamalek to Tahrir Square, she felt she had to share in the second wave of Egypt's revolution towards freedom. She said that the Brotherhood regime had only succeeded in dividing the unity of Egyptians by abusing religion, and as a result she had felt obliged to join the protests. Well-known actors and actresses, along with novelists and poets, were at the head of the march. Among them were actresses Laila Elwi, Yosra, Elham Shahin, Mona Zaki, Lobna Abdel-Aziz, Nadia Al-Guindi and Mervat Amin, and actors Hussein Fahmi, Karim Abdel-Aziz, Khaled Al-Sawi, Khaled Saleh, Mahmoud Kabil and Hani Salama. Writers Gamal Al-Ghitani and Youssef Al-Qaeed were among those marching, as were film directors Khaled Youssef and Amr Abdel-Aziz, pianist Mohamed Saleh, conductor and composer Hisham Gabr, harpist from the Cairo Opera Orchestra Manal Mohieddin, head of the Academy of Arts Sameh Mahran, former head of the Cairo Opera House Ines Abdel-Dayem, Grammy award-winning sound engineer Alaa Al-Kashef, pianist and arts manager Ahmed Abu Zahra, violinist Osman Al-Mahdi, principal dancer from the Cairo Opera Ballet Company Hani Hassan, and theatre critic Nehad Selaiha, among hundreds of others. As the artists marched along 26 July Street, the numbers grew, with the marchers being joined by many other protesters. By 6pm, as the march reached Tahrir Square, the Qasr Al-Nil Bridge leading to the square was already filled with protesters. The marchers found it difficult to enter the Square as a result, which was already filled to capacity. “The event was the largest march organised by artists since Egypt's January 2011 Revolution,” said novelist Mohamed Baghdadi, who added that the artists' and intellectuals' determination to remove Morsi and the Muslim Brotherhood from power was supported by nationwide protests by Egyptians from all walks of life. Maha Effat, a spokeswoman for the group of Egyptian artists and intellectuals who have been occupying the Ministry of Culture since 5 May, asserted that older artists and intellectuals had remained in the ministry in order to safeguard the sit-in which would last until the toppling of Morsi's regime. “The artists and intellectuals will not give up until Egypt is completely liberated from the current regime,” Effat said. “We inherited Egypt as a liberal democratic country, and we will hand it over to the younger generation as a liberal democratic country even if it costs us our lives,” Al-Qaeed told the Weekly during the march. As the march reached Tahrir Square, the sound of clogs being beaten together could be heard filling the air. The clogs, made of wood, mimicked those used in traditional settings, and today this type of footwear is still used in agriculture, in some factories, mines and during ablution in mosques. Although clogs are sometimes negatively associated with cheap and folkloric footwear, some types of clogs are considered as fashionable items today, including Swedish clogs and Japanese geta. Clogs are also used in several different styles of dance to fix the rhythm of the music by tapping against the floor. Clogs were once widespread in Islamic and Arab countries, and Damascus was once well known for making perfect clogs. A large clog market was once established in Damascus behind the Al-Amawi Mosque. All basic clogs are carved of solid hardwood and they are often embellished with silver, gold, mother-of-pearl, tortoiseshell and other decorations. The strap of the clog is attached to the wooden sole, wrapping over the wearer's foot, and this strap is often made of fabric or leather and decorated with valuable stones, pearls, gilded silver thread and embroidery. The origin of clogs in Europe is not known, though the oldest types are found in the Netherlands and date from the 13th century. These ancient clogs are very similar to the wooden shoes still sometimes worn in Holland today.
