As Syrian government forces fired again today on protestors in Dara’a, Latakia, and other cities, the NYT’s Nick Kristof posted these two tweets, which are haunting me.  The hashtag was #Syrianfear.

I backpacked through Hama, Syria, in 1982 after the massacres there. The old city in front was just rubble, but a tourist office remained.

“What happened?” I asked, pointing to the 50 acres of rubble. “I don’t see anything,” the man said. “Nothing happened.”

I know you probably don’t have time for this long a video, but for the record, here’s my February 19 keynote speech at the Islamic Center of America in Dearborn, MI — on fundamentalism, stereotyping, and (with suitably Jewish agnostic chutzpah) religion, as well as on the revolutions in Egypt and Tunisia and the effect they may have on American attitudes toward Islam.

The occasion, at the largest Shia mosque in America, was the celebration of the birthday of Muhammad.   The still shot has a somewhat disturbingly preacher look to it, so please tell me I’m not preaching, just talking…

(The sound comes in fully after about 45 seconds.)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2-hTxDvRVlo]

The magnificence of it!

After two days of concerted attacks by plain-clothes security police and paid goons armed with guns, machetes, whips, batons, and nail-studded maces;  after the coordinated attempt of the Mubarak regime to intimidate protestors, to stop news coverage by arresting and roughing up journalists, and to create the appearance of chaos, this:

The largest protest crowds so far.

And not only in Cairo.  In every Egyptian city.  All calling for Mubarak to step down.  Now.  And all peaceful.

Courage, it turns out, is infectious:  One of the two lead anchors of a government TV station quit to join the protestors, as did the station’s manager, declaring themselves unable to keep up  the hypocrisy;  the head of the Arab League arrived in Tahrir Square to speak to protestors;  even the government turned up in person, when the minister of defense came to ‘review the troops’ and also spoke with protestors, signaling at least a degree of support.

The violence that was designed to keep people away from public protest seems instead to have reinforced their determination.  And here, halfway round the world in Seattle, I am amazed and humbled and inordinately grateful for their courage.

I’m aware that however much I’m feeling, it’s a tiny fraction of what the vast majority of Egyptians are feeling, both in Egypt and abroad — a fraction of what all those living under Middle Eastern dictatorships are feeling as they remain glued, as I am, to the live feeds of news organizations such as Al Jazeera and, amazingly, the most powerful and irrepressible news update of all, Twitter feeds — from rights organizations like Human Rights Watch (@hrw), from reporters like Nicolas Kristof (@NickKristof), and from Egyptian activists on the ground (check my RTs at @accidentaltheo for some of them).

I’m riding an emotional roller coaster of empathy and hope, but it’s the people in the squares and streets of Egypt who are, literally, placing their lives on the line.

Would you?  Would I?  Do we have any idea how much we take for granted what others are willing to die for?

Whatever happens in Egypt in the next few days, watch, follow it closely, spread the news, and be awed — and inspired — by the infectious power of courage.

It’s such a heady proposition:  an end to dictatorial regimes in the Middle East, a newly empowered citizenry, the prospect of real democracy.  As Nick Kristof tweeted early on, Innaharda, ehna kullina Misriyeen — “today, we are all Egyptians.”

El-Baradei says Mubarak has until Friday to get on the plane and leave Egypt.  But it seems he’s not going to fade gently into the good night.  “I wish it could be done so gently,” wrote one commenter on my previous post, rightly sceptical of my optimism.

And now, the thugs.  And the specter, after ten days of exhilarating hope, of heartbreak.

The thugs are in Cairo’s Tahrir Square as I write, described absurdly by the New York Times and other news organizations as “Mubarak supporters.”  The NYT should read its own The Lede blog, which reports that they are plain-clothes police and paid provocateurs, and that ten bucks a day is the going rate.

Nick Kristof details the menace of them:

I’ve been spending hours on Tahrir today, and it is absurd to think of this as simply “clashes” between two rival groups. The pro-democracy protesters are unarmed and have been peaceful at every step. But the pro-Mubarak thugs are arriving in buses and are armed — and they’re using their weapons.

In my area of Tahrir, the thugs were armed with machetes, straight razors, clubs and stones. And they all had the same chants, the same slogans and the same hostility to journalists. They clearly had been organized and briefed. So the idea that this is some spontaneous outpouring of pro-Mubarak supporters, both in Cairo and in Alexandria, who happen to end up clashing with other side — that is preposterous. It’s difficult to know what is happening, and I’m only one observer, but to me these seem to be organized thugs sent in to crack heads, chase out journalists, intimidate the pro-democracy forces and perhaps create a pretext for an even harsher crackdown.

Now Al-Jazeera‘s live feed shows them throwing Molotov cocktails at the anti-Mubarak protestors, and heavy rocks from the rooftops.  They’re beating up journalists, and on the hunt in particular for Al-Jazeera reporters.  There have been several more deaths, and many serious injuries.

Mubarak’s speech last night gave the option of chaos without him (the old apres-moi-le-déluge) or stability with him.  But the only chaos is with him.

I still hope against hope, but the memories I’ve been struggling against rise up threateningly:  Iran’s “green revolution” of 2009 brutally put down;  Tianenmen Square in 1989, brutally put down;  the ousting of the Shah in 1979, taken over by a theocracy and turned into yet another dictatorial regime.

As the call goes out for even larger demonstrations in Egypt on Friday, with a march on the presidential palace, it comes down, it seems, to the military.  Which way will they go?  If the march on the palace does take place, what will they do?

Will they fire on the marchers?  Or will there be a military coup, with the army openly taking over?  (And if so, would the generals assume power themselves, or hand over to a civilian interim government?)   Or will Mubarak — I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I insist on hoping — finally get on the damn plane?

I watch with tears in my eyes, battling the despair creeping up in my heart, wishing, hoping against hope…

“New atheists” Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins are having a ball with the pedophile priest scandal — it seems to prove everything they’ve ever said about the evils of religion.

It’s disturbing enough that anyone at all is having a ball with this ghastly issue, though maybe that’s inevitable when the Hitchens-Dawkins style of atheism has all the hallmarks of being a religion of its own.  But worse is that their call for the Pope to resign smacks more than a little of… well, to be kind, disingenuousness.  To be less kind, hypocrisy.

If you don’t believe in medicine, you’re hardly going to call for a better doctor.  If H and D really believe all they say about the evils of religion, then there’s no way they could imagine that a change of Pope could make any difference, especially when nobody in the upper reaches of Churchly hierarchy seems capable of plain human feeling — capable, that is, of expressing pure unadulterated outrage that such things have been done under the guise (literally) of priestly robes.

I don’t question H and D’s outrage,  but while most of us are watching this unfold with horror, they can barely contain their glee.

I wish I could feel that glee, but I’m with Nick Kristof on the Op-Ed page of today’s New York Times, talking about “the other Catholic church.”  This is the “grass-roots church” of nuns and priests working with the poor, the sick, and the needy both in the States and worldwide.  “Their magnificence,” writes Kristof, “lies not in their vestments, but in their selflessness.”

Maybe H and D could learn just a bit from that selflessness.   They’ve leapt on the bandwagon of scandal with no apparent purpose other than self-promotion.

Or maybe Hitchens is running for Pope?