Ramy Essam: "There will be another revolution: the question is whether we'll be ready"

BarcelonaTen years ago, he was singing Irhal [Leave] in front of tens of thousands of people in Cairo's Tahrir Square, against Hosni Mubarak's regime, and today he lives in exile between Sweden and Finland. Ramy Essam (Mansoura, Egypt, 1987) was the voice of the revolution, one of Egypt's most popular singer-songwriters. After the fall of the rais he continued to sing against the military junta and against the government of Mohammed Mursi of the Muslim Brotherhood. With the return of the military to power with Marshal Al-Sissi he had to go into exile, but he continues to denounce the repression of a regime that accumulates tens of thousands of political prisoners. Among them is the poet Galal El-Bahairy, author of the lyrics of the song Bahlal, a song Essam released in 2018. The young director of the video clip, Shady Habash, died of medical malpractice behind bars.

How did he become a symbol of the revolution?

— Before the revolution I wasn't an activist, I had only written a few political songs. I was 23 years old. In my city, Mansoura, the police withdrew after the first days of clashes, and when I heard that the demonstrators had occupied Tahrir Square in Cairo, I decided to go. At first I didn't even think about bringing my guitar, because I was afraid it would get damaged in the clashes. But my brother convinced me. I composed Irhal in the same square, among the tents, putting melody to the slogans that the demonstrators shouted. After a few days they put up the stage, I went up and everyone started singing because they already knew the words. I could never have imagined it: a month earlier I was happy because I had been able to get 300 people together in a theatre in Cairo.

There aren't many rock singers in the country

— No. We missed out on all the music you had in the 60s, 70s and 80s. I had a childhood full of violence, because in Egypt the streets are very tough, and rock was very important to help me channel the anger, turn it into a healthy anger. I think both rock and rap are very powerful tools for young people.

Are your songs still heard in Egypt?

— I had to leave more than six years ago because I didn't want to do my military service. But there are still a lot of people who listen to them: now it's perhaps more difficult, because they have to do it in secret. At the police checkpoints in the street they check mobile phones and if they find songs like mine you can get into a lot of trouble. But I will never stop making political songs. Right now I've just written one about what's happening in Palestine.

When you're in exile, are there also red lines you can't cross?

— Self-censorship is one of the worst things an artist can suffer. It's much worse than the censorship of dictatorship. I had never experienced it until 2018 when they put seven people in prison for a song we made together (Shadi Habash who died, was de director, and Galal El-Behariry who is in prison at the moment). And one of them died. Now I think more than before about what I write. I have to find a way to say what I want to say. I've realised that art can be like the chameleon, it can change colour to get the same message across to people.

Do you sing only for Egyptian audiences?

— When I was in Egypt, I was focused on what was happening there. But the beauty of the protest song is that the music has a life of its own. Without me doing anything, people in the region have taken my songs and adopted them. It's happened in the last waves of mobilizations in Lebanon, also in Syria or Iraq. Even beyond the Arab world: in the mobilizations in Iran someone took my songs and translated them into Farsi. When I had to leave Egypt and I had the opportunity to travel around the world I saw that we share the same shit situation. In Spain you don't have as many political prisoners as in Egypt, but you have them too. It's just a matter of scale, but the problems are the same. I am also convinced that the solution to what is happening in my country will not only come from inside Egypt.

How do you see the future?

— I am optimistic because I experienced how strong people can be when they unite. What we did in Egypt cannot be erased. Nobody saw it coming, it wasn't foreseen, and why can't it happen again? I know that the regime will not disappear tomorrow. But the protest movement will resurface. It won't do it on its own, we have to work. But in 2011 we were not ready. And we were easily pushed aside: everything was between the military and the Islamists and we were taken out of the equation. We had no plan, no clear objectives. The regime in Egypt is putting people on the ropes and everything will explode again. There will be another revolution, the question is whether we will be ready, or whether we will let the opportunity slip away again.