The mere title “Facebook Revolution” seems to give credit to the social network site as though it were itself an ideological entity determined to oust Mubarak. Deeming Egypt’s revolution a victory of social media represents the momentous event as an isolated phenomenon occurring in a vacuum, instigated by the medium itself.
Another tidbit of common knowledge is that the initial Egyptian protests were instigated by youth. So, an important question to posit is whether the extensive use of social media in organizing the January 25th protests is simply because it is the primary communicative tool of the youth. The very nature of the internet is that it compresses space and time, making communication across vast areas quick and effortless given the necessary tools (computer, broadband connection). Following Tunisia’s success in revolting against Ben Ali’s authoritarian regime, the Egyptian youth acquired newfound confidence for a longstanding message: get Mubarak out. Seeing as 78% of Egypt’s youth are Facebook users, it is only fitting that they would choose the social network site to disseminate their message of protest. This could likewise explain why the first few days of protest consisted mainly of youth, or those who accessed the message via social media. However, once mainstream media outlets indexed the events as newsworthy and broadcast the events on satellite TV, the spirit of uprising was proliferated throughout Egypt, thus inviting non-Facebook users to join the revolt (ie the older generation and the poor). This could be a strong indicator that although social media aided in organizing initial protests, the revolution couldn’t have been as successful without the older generation’s participation (lawyers/doctors/union strikes), who represent only 22% of all Facebook users in the country.
Let's say Martha Stewart is marooned on a deserted island and desperately wants to make coconut cake(because hey, she's Martha Freaking Stewart). Unfortunately, unlike in Lost, it appears that this island really is deserted, which means no readily available ingredients. But again, she's Martha Freaking Stewart, and by golly she's going to eat cake. So she shimmies up a tree and harvests coconuts, grating some for the cake and pressing others for oil. She then braves the ruthless roosters to steal eggs from the wild hens nesting behind her hut. She arduously picks wheat growing in the valley to the west and grinds it into organic flour using nothing but some river stones she found on an afternoon hike. And, just to make the cake extra delicious, Martha hacks down some sugar cane, presses it by rolling large boulders over it, catching the sugary juice in a hollowed coconut shell (Martha recycles). Now, everything is ready for her feast except for one looming detail: she ain't got no fire. So, no bakey-bakey. She knows she can slowly bake her cake in an underground makeshift oven, but she still needs a match to start the fire. Defeated, Martha loses hope that she will ever again bite into a moist, creamy coconut cake. Then one day, in search of some new banana leaves to compliment the color tones of her bamboo hut, Martha happens upon a backpack that had washed up onto shore, drying in the sun. Quickly, Martha opens the bag hoping to find some kind of fire-starting device. And she does. In the outside pocket of the Jansport bag, Martha excitedly pulls out a single, solitary match. Hallelujah, and it just so happens that Martha brings her cake mix everywhere she goes in a gorgeous hand-crocheted palm leaf fanny pack. So, Martha pours, mixes and bakes a delicious cake. Later, after Martha is rescued by one of her old inmates friends from when she was 'lock up', everyone says "wow, it's so wonderful that match was there. Otherwise, you could have never made and enjoyed that delicious cake. That match was really a godsend, wasn't it. Imagine if that match hadn't been on that otherwise deserted island? Don't you just love that match, Martha?" Martha slowly nods her head in agreement, but is crying inside. "What about me?" she wonders. "There would have been no cake at all if I hadn't harvested the wheat. Or shimmied the coconut tree. Or pressed the sugar cane. Now all anyone ever cares about is that stupid match. But I made the mix. I made the mix..."
Get it? Martha does.
