We Live in Cairo, written by The Lazours, is a historical musical set in Egypt during the Arab Spring. Directed by Taibi Magar, it ran at the New York Theatre Workshop from October 9 to November 27, 2024.
We Live in Cairo brings Egypt’s Arab Spring to the stage as a celebration of universal love intrinsic to the act of a huge group of strangers, in this case, a mix of Muslims and secularists, taking to the streets with a shared humanitarian aim in mind. The play, led by a talented cast of actors and musicians, also confronts the grief, anger, and despair that results when a revolution fails (to date) as it did for Egypt, and for many of the other countries involved in the Arab Spring.
A political satire song in the first scene provides a backdrop for the mounting tension that led to the demonstrations that began on January 25, 2011, and resulted in the overthrow of President Hosni Mubarak on February 11, 2011. “I know a way that we can fix this crazy food inflation… It’s called a good old-fashioned Egyptian vacation.” (lines 7-8, “Sharm El Sheikh”)
The joy and kinship felt during the initial protests are wonderfully expressed in the song “Genealogy of Revolution” with its beautiful refrain:
“I was one person
Who had an idea
And made it words…
Someone heard and took my words
And made them theirs”
(lines 1,2,3,6,8, repeated in “Genealogy of Revolution”)
Hear the cast sing the song in its entirety on this video posted by New York Theatre Workshop.
Footage of the real Arab Spring projected onto the backstage and ceiling, and other visual effects (projection design by David Bengali) gave the reenactment of the protests an eerie reality.
Saturn Devouring His Son makes its grim entrance as a cautionary reminder that government models needing radical change often rise to prominence, in part, by encouraging profound polarization among its citizenry; unfortunately, this polarization doesn’t magically go away once the oppressive government has.
The play begins with a prison release party for Fadwa. We learn that Fadwa (Rotana Tarabzouni) was sent to jail and kept in solitary confinement for being publicly critical of Mubarak. Fadwa’s commitment to enact democratic change is at the heart of the story line–she keeps her revolutionary spirit throughout the revolution’s demise. For instance, the friends, secular activists, largely agree that Mohamed Morsi of the Muslim Brotherhood is a poor choice of a new leader to achieve democracy. Fadwa’s philosophy regarding phases of revolution: “This man Mohamed Morsi. He is just the latest stage. Nothing is lost. Our country’s freedom is underneath this. We just keep digging.” (from Scene 2)
Hany (Michael Khalid Karadsheh) is not a fan of Morsi either but takes the position they shouldn’t be working to overthrow Morsi because he was Egypt’s first democratically elected President in thirty years. This leads to an argument between Fadwa and Hany about the dangers of the Brotherhood to women and Coptic Christians. They agree about the dangers, just not what to do about it. When Hany stands his ground and says he won’t join in writing a new protest song to bring Morsi down, Fadwa accuses him of being a Brotherhood supporter and says she wants nothing to do with him.
Morsi became President of Egypt in 2012, but he was removed from office by a coup d’etat led by General Abdel Fattah el-Sisi in response to protests being held against Morsi in June 2013.
Other ways the friends divide as the Arab Spring’s political gains unravel: Amir (Ali Louis Bourzgui) and Hany were planning to go to New York together from before the start of the revolution. When the opportunity to leave presents itself, Amir considers it a betrayal to leave Egypt with the revolution attempt still unfolding.
Karim, Fadwa’s cousin (John El-Jor) welcomes Hassan (Drew Elhamalawy) into their group due to their shared interest in painting, but Hassan remains isolated. Hassan to Karim re the Brotherhood: “They educate me. They took care of us when my father was sick. They’re not these evil people you all think they are…” (excerpt, from Scene 2)
Hassan being aligned with both the Brotherhood and the secularists seems genuine but proves for him to be a dangerous stance with tragic consequences. His character’s experience, as well as the group’s response to him, seems key to examine what could have been if, in the case of Egypt, the Muslims and secularists compromised to share power democratically, which life shows us time and again, is extraordinarily difficult for people to do, particularly at a profoundly chaotic historical moment.
Rotana Tarabzouni and Nadina Hassan (supported by a stunning interpretation of Cairo’s streets projected on the back wall). Photo: Joan Marcus
Layla (Nadina Hassan) is marginal to the group in that she does not consider herself political, but she has the conscience to join them in the protests. While fighting for women’s and gay rights is weaved thoughtfully throughout the script, I wonder if addressing the sexual violence directed toward women during the protests would have given Amir and Layla’s romance, and the play’s duets, more weight, but I could see making the decision not to focus more on gender-based crime as well. After the military takeover, Layla’s decision to stay in Cairo, at risk to her life, to support Hany by visiting him when in jail, shows her personal growth through the various ordeals she witnesses and experiences.
It was helpful just after the polarized American elections to watch We Live in Cairo to contemplate both the universal tragic aspects of the human condition, as well as the radical ideas people come up with, large and small, to experience joy together.
This post was written by the author in their personal capacity.The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not reflect the view of The Theatre Times, their staff or collaborators.
This post was written by Heather Waters.
The views expressed here belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect our views and opinions.
