She left her home one hour before her 2pm shift at work last week, hoping that this would be enough time for her to make a trip that usually took 20 minutes but now takes much longer, because of the daily traffic jams around downtown. Azza Abdel-Hady finally reached her destination at 4:20pm. This civil servant thought the traffic was to blame, but then she realised there was a different reason for the long delay; angry fans of Al-Ahly football team, the Ultras Ahlawy (UA), had blocked 6th October Bridge and also stopped trains running through Sadat Underground Station in the very heart of the capital. “As the bus approached October Bridge, I couldn't help waving for them. I support their struggle, although I was badly delayed for work," Azza said in a calm manner. What this woman in her fifties was reluctant to talk about was the fact that almost everyone else on the bus was angry about what was happening and many of them started shouting at her “for encouraging the protesters". Azza has clearly changed throughout the past two years from having absolutely nothing to do with politics, except for a hidden hatred for the unfairness of Mubarak's regime, to becoming a supporter of rights, freedom and dignity. A mother of three, Azza suddenly found herself in the midst of politics when her 19-year-old son started joining in the protests and demos in Tahrir Square. What has happened to Azza could also, to some extent, explain what has happened to this country's biggest bloc of football fans, referred to as the Ultras, who have suddenly come under the spotlight, not as sports icons but rather for political reasons. The Ultras, who made their first appearance in 2005, pride themselves on their disciplined, organised and creative image, all in the context of sports, but their participation in demonstrations and protests during the Revolution signalled a more political role. Nevertheless, it wasn't until February last year that the Ultras' struggle turned drastically serious, after 74 Ultras Ahlawy lost their lives at the end of a match between Al-Ahly and Al-Masry Club of Port Said. Last Saturday, Egypt's court sentenced 21 defendants to death for killing the Ahly fans in Port Said Stadium on February 1. Fifty-two other defendants, also accused of attacking and killing Ahly fans, will have to wait till March 9 to hear their fate. Although the court ruling pleased many of the Ultras Ahlawy, it sparked protests in the coastal city of Port Said that left nearly 40 people dead and over 400 injured. How it all began Ultras Ahlawy have been described by local media as having a serious issue with the police and the Supreme Council of Armed Forces (SCAF) that ruled the country at the time of last year's massacre in Port Said. According to sources in the UA group, the story began on December 21, 2011, when Mohamed Moustafa (aka Karika), a student and a member of the group, was shot dead in Qasr El-Aini Street, downtown Cairo. Mourning their friend's death, the UA wore black at a football match that took place two days after the incident, where they chanted songs and slogans against SCAF and the police. Those chants then developed into a number of songs which gained immense popularity among young people and social networks. The Ultras gained immense popularity too, for being strongly opposed to SCAF and the police, with their reputation for brutally suppressing protesters. With their noticeable presence in the protests and demos, carrying placards and huge pictures, and chanting slogans and their distinctive revolutionary songs, the Ultras have left an impression in the street, becoming as famous as the football clubs, on which they once focused all their attention. Also because of their clearly organised modus agendi, the Ultras have managed to grasp the attention of different political powers. "We have been asked several times to ally with political candidates in elections, but we continue to honour the cause of the Revolution and the blood of our brothers who died serving the cause," an Ultras insider told this newspaper on condition of anonymity. These fans – mostly aged between 13 and 23 – did not plan to enter political life, making some foes and making some friends in the street. Their main purpose in life was to cheer for their beloved team and enjoy a good game of football. But fate has decreed something else for them. Something similar has happened with lots of other Egyptians, who, finding themselves in the middle of political upheaval, have been impelled to take a stand on issues that never mattered to them before. Azza, the civil servant, who cried her heart out as she talked of the young martyrs and the old regime, is just one of them.
