沉默就是犯罪。即使埃及当权者向我们倾泻子弹和催泪瓦斯，即使当权者切断互联网和手机信号，但我们仍然能想办法向世界发声，发出我们对自由和公正的呼唤。
ON Friday, the “day of rage,” I was in the streets with the protesters. Friends and I participated in a peaceful demonstration that started at the Amr Ibn al-As Mosque in Old Cairo near the Church of St. George. We set off chanting, “The people want the regime to fall!” and we were greeted with a torrent of tear gas fired by the police. We began to shout, “Peaceful, Peaceful,” trying to show the police that we were not hostile, we were demanding nothing but our liberty. That only increased their brutality. Fighting began to spread to the side streets in the ancient, largely Coptic neighborhood.
星期五，“愤怒日”。我是街头示威人群中的一员。游行队伍从开罗老区圣乔治教堂旁的伊本-阿尔阿斯清真寺出发，示威者高喊口号“当权者下台、民意难违”，警察向我们倾泻催泪瓦斯作为回应。示威者释出善意，开始大喊：“和平，和平”，表明自己要求的仅仅是自由。结果警察得寸进尺。警民冲突扩向科普特基督徒聚居的老巷区。
A friend and I took shelter in a small alleyway, where we were warmly welcomed. The locals warned us not to try to escape to the metro station, and pointed us toward a different escape route; many of them even joined the protests. Eventually, a man drove us in his own car to safety.
我与一位朋友躲进一条深巷，获得当地人家热情款待。他们警告我们勿往地铁站逃跑，并给指出一条不同的脱身路线。他们中的一些人甚至加入了游行队伍。最后，一名男子开车把我们载到安全之地。
Clearly, the scent of Tunisia’s “jasmine revolution” has quickly reached Egypt. Following the successful expulsion in Tunis of the dictator Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali, the call arose on Facebook for an Egyptian revolution, to begin on Jan. 25. Yet the public here mocked those young people who had taken to Twitter and Facebook to post calls for protest: Since when was the spark of revolution ignited on a pre-planned date? Had revolution become like a romantic rendezvous?
突尼斯茉莉花革命的清香已经飘到了埃及，而且来得很快。突尼斯独夫本阿里被成功驱逐之后，发动一场埃及革命的呼声便在Facebook上高涨，并把日子定在1月25日。埃及本地人对这些诉诸推特、Facebook发布革命呼吁的年轻人不以为然：革命火花何时曾在提前设定的日期燃起？莫非这是一场浪漫的约会？
Such questions abounded on social networking sites; but even cynics — myself included — became hopeful as the calls continued to circulate. In the blink of an eye, the Twitter and Facebook generation had successfully rallied hundreds of thousands to its cause, across the nation. Most of them were young people who had not been politically active, and did not belong to the traditional circles of the political opposition. The Muslim Brotherhood is not behind this popular revolution, as the regime claims. Those who began it and organized it are seething in anger at police cruelty and the repression and torture meted out by the Hosni Mubarak regime.
这类质疑一度充斥着社交网站，然而随着示威呼吁的快速流传，即使冷眼旁观者（比如说我）也开始对这场运动抱有希望。推客们振臂一呼，眨眼工夫便应者云集。响应者多为年轻人，他们不曾涉入政治，也不隶属于传统上的政治反对派。这场革命的组织者和推手不是当权者所宣称的“穆斯林兄弟会”，而是一群被警察暴行和穆巴拉克政权铁血统治所激怒的人。
And, from the outset, the government decided to deal with the people with the utmost violence and brutality in the hope that the Tunisian experience would not be repeated. For days now, tear gas has been the oxygen Egyptians have inhaled. So much was in the air that there are reports of small children and the elderly having suffocated on the fumes in their homes. The security forces in Cairo started by shooting rubber bullets at the protesters, before progressing onto live ammunition, ending dozens of lives.
政府从一开始就无情地对示威者施加暴力，冀望以此防止突尼斯事件重演。几天以来，催泪瓦斯就是埃及民众呼吸的空气。有报道指出，由于空气中瓦斯浓度过大，一些老人小孩甚至在家中窒息。开罗的安全部队先向示威者发射橡皮子弹，而后换成实弹，夺走数十人的性命。
In Suez, where the demonstrations have been tremendously violent, live ammunition was used against civilians from the first day. A friend of mine who lives there sent me a message saying that, Thursday morning, the city looked as if it had emerged from a particularly brutal war: its streets were burned and destroyed, dead bodies were strewn everywhere; we would never know how many victims had fallen to the police bullets in Suez, my friend solemnly concluded.
在苏伊士，由于示威活动极其暴力，民众从示威首日起就遭实弹射击。一位在苏伊士的朋友给我发来短信，描述周四早晨的景象：城市仿佛刚刚经历一场血战，道路上浓烟滚滚，尸骸遍地。也许我们将永远无法知道有多少人沦为警察的枪下鬼，这位朋友得出一个严肃的结论。
After having escaped from Old Cairo on Friday, my friends and I headed for Tahrir Square, the focal point of the modern city and site of the largest protests. We joined another demonstration making its way through downtown, consisting mostly of young people. From a distance, we could hear the rumble of the protest in Tahrir Square, punctuated by the sounds of bullets and screams. Minute by painstaking minute, we protesters were gaining ground, and our numbers were growing. People shared Coca-Cola bottles, moistening their faces with soda to avoid the effects of tear gas. Some people wore masks, while others had sprinkled vinegar into their kaffiyehs.
周五从埃及老城脱身后，我和朋友直奔解放广场。它是新城的心脏，也聚集着最多的示威者。我们加入另一支由年轻人组成的游行队伍，从市中心穿过。在远处，解放广场示威人群的隆隆呐喊依稀可辨，不时被枪声和尖叫打断。时间一分一分地过去，示威者人数不断增加，渐据上风。民众们分享可口可乐，将脸上涂上碳酸水以抵御催泪瓦斯侵袭。一些人戴上面具，另一些人把醋喷到头巾上。
Shopkeepers handed out bottles of mineral water to the protesters, and civilians distributed food periodically. Women and children leaned from windows and balconies, chanting with the dissidents. I will never forget the sight of an aristocratic woman driving through the narrow side streets in her luxurious car, urging the protesters to keep up their spirits, telling them that they would soon be joined by tens of thousands of other citizens arriving from different parts of the city.
商铺为示威者免费提供矿泉水，民众定期分发食物。妇女和儿童从窗户、阳台探出身来，应和示威者的呐喊。有一幕情景我终身难忘：一位贵妇开着豪车穿过窄窄的街道，为示威者打气，告诉后者数以百万计的民众正从全国各地赶来加入他们的队伍。
After several failed attempts to break through the security checkpoints and get to Tahrir Square, we sat in a cafe to rest. Three officers from the regime’s Central Security Forces, all in civilian clothing, sat down next to us. They appeared to be completely relaxed, as though they were impervious to the sounds of bullets and shouting, or to the numbers of wounded and dead Egyptians being reported on Al Jazeera, which was being broadcast on the coffee shop’s television. They and their colleagues were all over the city, spying on their countrymen.
通往解放广场的道路布满安全检查站，我们多次闯关未果后，坐到一间咖啡厅休息。中央保安部队的三名警官身着便装，坐到我们旁边。枪声喊声不时从街头传来，电视中半岛电台正统计民众伤亡数字，而这三位警察对此却无动于衷，满脸轻松。他们和他们的同党正在城里四处监视本国国民。
Hour by hour on Friday evening, the chaos increased. Police stations and offices of the ruling National Democratic Party were on fire across the country. I wept when news came that 3,000 volunteers had formed a human chain around the national museum to protect it from looting and vandalism. Those who do such things are certainly highly educated, cultivated people, neither vandals nor looters, as they are accused of being by those who have vandalized and looted Egypt for generations.
星期五晚上，开罗的混乱程度与时俱增。全国各地的警局和执政党党部被焚烧。3000名志愿者在国家博物馆周围组成人链防止洗劫破坏，令我为之动容。这些人无疑受到过高等教育，并有很高的文化修养，却被当局诬称为强盗和破坏者。然而，恰恰是这些诬蔑者自己几十年来对国家大肆掠抢破坏。
The curfew meant that I couldn’t return home, so I spent the night at a friend’s house near the Parliament building and Interior Ministry, one of the most turbulent parts of the city. That night, the sound of bullets was unceasing. We watched from the window as police shot with impunity at the protesters and at a nearby gas station, hoping, perhaps, for an explosion. Despite all of this and despite the curfew, the demonstrations did not stop, fueled by popular fury at President Mubarak’s slowness to address the people and, a few hours later, indignation at the deplorable speech he finally gave.
我因为宵禁无法回家，于是到朋友家过夜。他家离议会大楼和内政部不远，是开罗骚乱最严重的地方之一。当晚，枪声不绝于耳。我们从窗口看到，军警向示威者大肆射击，并向一加油站开火，以期引起爆炸。即便如此，示威人群毫不退缩。穆巴拉克迟迟不对民众讲话已经令众人怒火中烧；几小时后，穆巴拉克终于露面讲话，却表现糟糕，进一步激起民众的愤慨。
On Saturday morning, I left my friend’s house and headed home. I walked across broken glass strewn in the streets, and I could smell the aftermath of the fires that had raged the night before. The army, called in by the regime to put down the protests, was everywhere. I tried first to cross over to Tahrir Square, in order to see for myself whether the museum was safe. A passer-by told me that the army was forbidding people from entering the square, and that shots were being fired. I asked him, anxiously, “Is the army shooting at the demonstrators?” He answered, confidently: “Of course not. The Egyptian army has never fired a shot against an Egyptian citizen, and will not do so now.” We both openly expressed our wish for that to be true, for the army to side with the people.
周六早晨，我离开朋友的住所，奔回家中。街头遍布玻璃碎片，昨夜大火造成的味道仍未散去。当权者调来镇压示威的军队四处可见。我本想穿过解放广场，亲眼看看国家博物馆是否得以保全。一位行人告诉我军队禁止民众前往广场，并不断开枪。我焦虑地问他：“军队朝示威者开火了？”“当然不会。埃及军队过去从来不向本国公民开火，现在也不会”，他自信地答道。我们坦诚希望此言为真，也希望军队站在人民一边。
NOW that army troops were monitoring the demonstrations, the police force had completely disappeared from the streets, as if to taunt people with the choice between their presence and chaos. Armed gangs have mushroomed across the city, seeking to loot shops and terrorize civilians in their homes. (Saturday night, a gang tried to rob the building where I have been staying, but was unable to break in.) Local volunteers have formed committees to stand up to the criminals, amidst an overwhelming feeling that the ruling regime is deliberately stoking chaos.
现在，开罗街头已不见警察踪影，军队接替了监视示威者的任务，仿佛在奚落市民：要么选择我们，要么选择混乱。城内武装犯罪团伙激增，企图抢劫商铺、恫吓市民（周六晚上，犯罪团伙企图进入我呆的大楼内抢劫，但未能得逞）。当地民众一致认为当权者故意制造骚乱，于是志愿组成委员会应对犯罪团伙。
Late Saturday, as I headed toward Corniche Street on the Nile River, I walked through a side street in the affluent Garden City neighborhood, where I found a woman crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me that her son, a worker at a luxury hotel, had been shot in the throat by a police bullet, despite not being a part of the demonstrations. He was now lying paralyzed in a hospital bed, and she was on her way to the hotel to request medical leave for him. I embraced her, trying to console her, and she said through her tears, “We cannot be silent about what has happened. Silence is a crime. The blood of those who fell cannot be wasted.”
上周六，我正前往尼罗河边的海滨大道，沿途经过一个花园城市城郊的富人区时，发现一位妇人在哭泣，于是上前询问，她说自己的儿子在一家豪华酒店当工人，尽管没有参加示威，却被警察用子弹射穿喉咙，现在瘫痪在医院病床上。她正在前往酒店，为儿子请病假。我拥抱了她，试图给她些安慰。她哽咽着说：“我们不能对眼下的事沉默不语。沉默就是犯罪。逝者的鲜血不能白流”。
I agree. Silence is a crime. Even if the regime continues to bombard us with bullets and tear gas, continues to block Internet access and cut off our mobile phones, we will find ways to get our voices across to the world, to demand freedom and justice.
我深表赞同。沉默就是犯罪。即使当权者向我们倾泻子弹和催泪瓦斯，即使当权者切断互联网和手机信号，但我们仍然能想办法向世界发声，发出我们对自由和公正的呼唤。
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