“We have already achieved history”

A generation of Egyptians is rising up against the government in an attempt to oust Hosni Mubarak.

Mohammed will take to the streets today, come what may. He is among the first of 2,000 unsuspecting pioneers – youths who signed up to the Facebook event that brought thousands of anti-government protesters to the streets.

Today, as citizens gather for Friday prayers, is expected to be the biggest day in the movement to oust the Egyptian president, Hosni Mubarak, from his 30-year rule. It may also be the most dangerous.

"If the police react violently this time, many people will be killed," says Mohammed. "But people now believe in change, they want Egypt to be a better place. They are afraid of what will happen, but they won't change. They will go."

In Cairo and Suez, violence flared as Egyptian security forces used tear gas, rubber bullets and water cannon against the crowds. Over 1,000 protesters have been carted away, many beaten; seven so far are reported dead.

The atmosphere in Cairo is tense. Anti-riot vans patrol the boulevards. Armoured trucks stand parked near flashpoints in the city, and amin dowla – plain-clothes officers from the state security service – are everywhere.

Public gatherings have been banned. A football match was cancelled Thursday for fear of violence.

By Tuesday, more than 90,000 people had signed up to the Facebook event. This time around it looks set to be much bigger. "One social media outlet rallying people to the street has 381,000 supporters at the last count," says Hisham Kassem, a respected independent editor.

The main actors of the past few days are well-educated people, middle-class students. Critics have commented that this group remains a tiny minority of Egypt's population.

Mohammed fits the profile, but this protest is bringing together people from different social backgrounds, he says. "I went to the elections, to other events. But now, I am going to the protests with people who have never been before. There are people from all other backgrounds. I know factory workers who went and got beaten, but they and their friends are going again."

Unemployment levels among Egypt's youth are deplorable. It is estimated that 25 per cent of men and 59 per cent of young women are without work. If the poor choose to join the intellectual classes, the riots could reach a critical mass.

Driving a beaten-up vehicle through Cairo's streets, Raman, a taxi driver, smiles a crack-toothed grin. "Friday there will be huge riots. Everyone is going to take part," he says.

Professor Abdallah Alashaal was an employee in the Egyptian government's foreign ministry. Now he is a well-known figure of opposition. "This is a velvet revolution; it is an uprising of the youth," he says.

"There is a sense of anticipation and emancipation here. The people in the street are not ideologised: they are not Christians, Muslims, Marxists. They are Egyptians. It is not a political movement."

In a dark backstreet, away from the main roads lined with security, a key protest organiser meets me, eyes shifty, watching out for plain-clothes police. He is right to be afraid. Egypt has a bad record on torture. His activities are risking his life.

He walks beside me, talking in a low voice. "We don't need help, this is not organised by anyone outside. We are motivated by Tunisia, but this is Egyptians acting for Egyptians." He disappears round a corner and his phone cuts off as he changes his sim card, again.

The outcome of Friday's events and the actions of the security forces remains unknown. "I can't see that anybody can predict what [will happen] tomorrow or days to come. In a few days it could be over. It could also get bigger and bigger and at last with the military participating," says Kassem.

Even key participants don't believe that it will bring about the collapse of Mubarak's regime immediately. "Mubarak won't leave peacefully; his government is much stronger than Tunisia's," says Mohammed.

But experts agree that, even if today is followed by apparent calm, the political situation in Egypt has changed. "It has weakened the regime," says Alashaal. "They didn't expect that the Egyptian population can rise up like this."

This popular revolt is unprecedented in Mubarak's strong-handed rule. "Even with nothing else, we have already achieved history," Mohammed says.

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The World Cup you’ve never heard of, where the teams have no state

At the Conifa world cup – this year hosted by the Autonomous Republic of Abkhazia – ethnic groups, diaspora communities and disputed territories will battle for footballing glory.

Football's European Championship and the Olympics are set to dominate the back pages over the next few months. How will Team GB fare in Rio? Will the zika virus stop the tournament even going ahead? Will the WAGS prove to be a distraction for the Three Lions? And can Roy Hodgson guide England to a long-awaited trophy?

But before the sprinters are in their blocks or a ball has been kicked, there's a world cup taking place.

Only this world cup is, well, a bit different. There's no Brazil, no damaged metatarsals to speak of, and no Germany to break hearts in a penalty shootout.  There’s been no sign of football’s rotten underbelly rearing its head at this world cup either. No murmurs of the ugly corruption which has plagued Fifa in recent years. Nor any suggestion that handbags have been exchanged for hosting rights.

This biennial, unsung world cup is not being overseen by Fifa however, but rather by Conifa (Confederation of Independent Football Associations), the governing body for those nations discredited by Fifa. Among its member nations are ethnic groups, diaspora communities or disputed territories with varying degrees of autonomy. Due to their contested status, many of the nations are unable to gain recognition from Fifa. As a consequence they cannot compete in tournaments sanctioned by the best-known footballing governing body, and that’s where Conifa provides a raison d’être.

“We give a voice to the unheard”, says Conifa’s General Secretary, Sascha Düerkop, whose world cup kicks off in the Autonomous Republic of Abkhazia at the end of this week.

“We are proud to give our members a forum where they can put themselves on the map.

“From that we hope to give back in the long run and invest in the football infrastructure in our member nations to help them grow.”

The two week footballing celebration starts with an opening ceremony before Kurdistan and Székely Land kick off the tournament. It follows on from 2014’s maiden competition which saw The County of Nice avenging a group stage defeat to Ellan Vannin from the Isle of Man, to take the spoils in the final via a penalty shoot-out.  There were some blowout scores of note however, with South Ossetia smashing Darfur 20-0 and Kurdistan beating the Tamils 9-0 at the event which took place in Östersund, Sweden. Neither of the finalists will be returning to the tournament – throwing down the gauntlet to another twelve teams. 

This, the second Conifa world cup, is testament to the ever-expanding global footprint of the tournament. Abkhazia will welcome sides from four continents – including Western Armenia, the Chagos Islands, United Koreans in Japan and Somaliland.

Despite the “minor” status of the countries taking part, a smattering of professional talent lends credibility to the event. Panjab can call on the experience of ex-Accrington Stanley man Rikki Bains at the heart of their defence, and the coaching savoir-faire of former Tranmere star Reuben Hazell from the dugout. Morten Gamst Pedersen, who turned out for Blackburn Rovers over 300 times and was once a Norwegian international, will lead the Sapmi people. The hosts complete the list of teams to aiming to get their hands on silverware along with Padania, Northern Cyprus, and Raetia.

A quick glance down said list, and it’s hard to ignore the fact that most of the nations competing have strong political associations – be that through war, genocide, displacement or discrimination. The Chagos Islands is one such example. An archipelago in the Indian Ocean, Chagos’ indigenous population was uprooted by the British government in the 1960s to make way for one of the United States' most strategically important military bases – Diego Garcia.

Ever since, they've been campaigning for the right to return. Their side, based in Crawley, has crowdfunded the trip to the tournament. Yet most of its members have never stepped foot on the islands they call home, and which they will now represent. Kurdistan’s efforts to establish an independent state have been well-highlighted, even more so given the last few years of conflict in the Middle East. The hosts too, broke away from Georgia in the 1990s and depend on the financial clout of Russia to prop up their government.

Despite that, Düerkop insists that the event is one which focuses on action on the pitch rather than off it. 

“Many of the nations are politically interested, but we are non-political,” he says. 

“Some of our members are less well-known in the modern world. They have been forgotten, excluded from the global community or simply are ‘unpopular’ for their political positions.

“We are humanitarians and the sides play football to show their existence – nothing more, nothing less.”

The unknown and almost novel status of the tournament flatters to deceive as Conifa’s world cup boasts a broadcast deal, two large stadiums and a plush opening ceremony. Its aim in the long run, however, is to develop into a global competition, and one which is content to sit below Fifa.

“We are happy to be the second biggest football organisation,” admits Düerkop.

“In the future we hope to have women’s and youth tournaments as well as futsal and beach soccer.”

“Our aim is to advertise the beauty and uniqueness of each nation.”

“But the most important purpose is to give those nations that are not members of the global football community a home.”

George Weah, the first African winner of Fifa World Player of the Year award remarked how “football gives a suffering people joy”.

And after speaking to Düerkop there’s certainly a feeling that for those on the game’s periphery, Conifa’s world cup has an allure which offers a shared sense of belonging.

It certainly seems light years away from the glitz and glamour of WAGs and corruption scandals. And that's because it is.

But maybe in a small way, this little-known tournament might restore some of beauty lost by the once “beautiful game”.