The second assassination of a Hamas leader in under a month has left the Arab peoples numb. Yasmine El-Rashidi gauges the sentiment on Cairo's streets News of the assassination of Hamas leader Abdul-Aziz Al-Rantisi was broadcast on Egyptian television late on Saturday night. Early the next morning, as the millions tuned into the morning news, and the local papers reached their target circulation's, Egypt's prompt official statement of condemnation had been heard nation-wide. Murmurs of demonstrations were rife -- initial public reaction plagued by remnants of the past twelve months; the global outrage at the US mangling of Iraq, and the fury at Israel's most recent act of terror on the life of Sheikh Ahmed Yassin. Coming in the wake of the Bush administration announcing its support of a plan by Ariel Sharon which revokes the Palestinian refugees' right of return, many observers expected the so-called "Arab street" to be raging. But on the streets of Cairo, and within its ancient alleyways, the temperament was surprisingly calm. By noon, the public reaction was clear. "I demonstrated for Iraq," falafel - maker Medhat El-Naggar told Al-Ahram Weekly. "And I demonstrated again for Sheikh Yassin. But this time, I am here, working. Furious, of course, but realising that even if we speak, what will happen? I feel that the Arabs have no worth or say." Within the nearby alleyways that comprise the maze of Cairo's Boulaq Abul- Ela district, the sentiment is similar. Magdy Mohamed Mustafa is a businessman in the area. Walking down one of the district's side-streets, he points to graffiti chalked on a nearby wall. "Free Palestine," one statement declares. "Give the Arabs their rights." "This is how people feel," he says. "We are angry, we condemn what is happening. The act was cowardly, because to kill an unarmed individual in such a way is a reflection of weakness and the inability to face someone man- to-man," he continues, his fervour reflected in his animated hands and sharpening tone. "I heard the news on television, and my first thought was 'what is happening to the Arab world?' It is clear that they [Israel and the US] are not choosing peace. We are saying peace, and they are responding with such acts. But what am I to do? Go out and fight? Demonstrate? Demonstrations are the explosion of the tongue. And then what happens? Nothing." In downtown Cairo on Tahrir Square -- the preferred venue for demonstrations, closed off by 5,000 police last month on the anniversary of the war on Iraq -- the seeming public silence was stark. "If you get hit repeatedly in the same place, you eventually get used to it," Maha Mabrouk, a student at the American University in Cairo (AUC) told the Weekly. "And so much has happened in the past few weeks I think people are exhausted." Those who did voice their outrage in public comprised predominantly of university students known for their untiring political zeal. At Al-Azhar University, the highest religious institute of learning in the region, some 3,000 students gathered outside the university grounds from Saturday night until noon the next day. Meanwhile, streets in Alexandria were blocked off to secure the reported hundreds of protesters who filtered out of the Alexandria University campus. These demonstrators -- largely comprised of medical students -- also voiced personal sentiment at the loss of one of their own: Al-Rantisi had studied at the university's Faculty of Medicine. Amidst the gatherings, however, the Arab voice was somewhat subdued and resigned, albeit aggrieved. "This isn't about wanting to go out and fight or vent anger," explained Yehya Rashed, an Azhar student. "We are condemning both Israel and the Untied States in our gathering, but more so, we are mourning." Indeed, at mosques across the country, prayer services were held for the assassinated leader, and across the cellular communications networks, messages were circulated encouraging people to take time to perform the Islamic prayer for the deceased. At local cafes, at bus stops, within shops and on the streets, the news remained just a murmur. The assassination clearly represented yet another blow to Arab dignity, an affront from the rest of the world. "The difference between the Arabs and the rest of the world is that we don't go around randomly killing innocent people," said one gentleman playing backgammon at a coffee shop in Old Cairo. "They called Al-Rantisi a terrorist. They call the Arabs terrorists. But it's not right at all. The man was fighting for his nation. If I'm fighting for my homeland, my children, my identity and rights, what's so wrong about that?" The Arabs, Egyptians believe, are unjustly pushed around. "There is no regard for the world outside the United States and Israel," says mechanic Mohamed El- Khadrawy. "Where's the UN, where are the international courts, where are rights? The leaders, the Arabs, the activists, everyone is talking and objecting, and the US is replying with promises, but nothing is being done. We have been talking about peace for years, and for years the news has been the same. It's very simple, Bush is pro-Israel, which leaves us in a bind. If you stand against the United States, you stand against the world. It's like suicide for the country."
