The bravery of those individuals who died was honoured in various forms of popular culture, particularly graffiti, as well as songs and protest chants. The dead were commemorated as ‘martyrs’, encouraging Egyptians to continue the struggle so that their deaths would not be in vain.

Despite the fact that women were amongst those who were killed, it was overwhelmingly men who were commemorated as martyrs. One of the only female martyrs celebrated was Sally Zahran, whose face was featured, alongside others killed after 25 January 2011, on the front page of an Egyptian newspaper. However, her status as martyr was brought into question due to the events surrounding her death, as well as discussions over whether she wore the headscarf or not. The association of martyrdom overwhelmingly with men overshadowed women’s contributions to the revolutionary struggle.

However, it was argued that men from low-income neighbourhoods were also under-represented in the portrayal of martyrs in the media (Muhammad Abu al-Ghayt trans. in Armbrust 2019: 127-131). Depicting principally middle-class men as martyrs served to distance the revolution from acts of violence, or ‘baltaga’ (‘thuggery’), which was a term used by opponents of the revolution to denounce the protesters. In Egyptian society, ‘baltaga’ is generally associated with lower class men. This led to a disproportionate focus on commemorating middle-class martyrs – despite the fact that it was young men from low-class neighbourhoods who were on the frontlines of defending the middle-class protesters from police violence.

In contrast, the ‘baltaga’ label was turned on its head by super football fans, called Ultras, whose bravery and toughness in opposition to the security forces became legendary in the post-2011 period. The Ultras’ football chants included the refrain, ‘al-dakhliyya baltagiyya’ –meaning, ‘the security forces are thugs’. Their long experience of battles with police at football matches made them highly effective in confrontations between protesters and the police after 25 January 2011. In February 2012, more than 70 fans of Al-Ahly football club, one of the most prominent Ultras groups, were massacred by rival football fans in the Port Said stadium, as the security forces looked on – prompting many to believe that the security forces were taking revenge on the Al-Ahly Ultras.

In official narratives, since the return of the military to power in 2013, the figure of ‘the martyr’ has been transferred onto the military and is invoked in relation to soldiers who have been killed in the regime’s ‘war on terrorism’ in the Sinai region. For example, songs glorifying the regime remind listeners ‘to ask the blood of Sinai, what blood irrigated you’. This alludes both to the army’s historic role in the 1973 war, which led to Egypt regaining the Sinai region from Israel, and the current, ongoing conflict against Islamist militants in this part of Egypt.

Marginalized Masculinity

A different type of masculinity associated with working class youth is expressed through ‘mahraganat’ music. Mahraganat combines popular Egyptian folk music (in Arabic, sha‘bi), hip hop and electronic dance music and emerged in low-income, marginalized neighbourhoods in Cairo and Alexandria. Famous musicians include Sadat and Alaa Fifty Cent, Okka and Ortego and DJ Haha, amongst others. Arising in the mid-2000s, it became more widely disseminated in the revolutionary atmosphere after 2011.

The lyrics, which are deemed ‘vulgar’ by mainstream Egyptian society, are cheeky, and even profane, and often speak about social issues facing young men in low-income neighbourhoods. Musicians and fans of mahraganat are distinguished by their particular fashion style, including tight-fitting trousers and heavily gelled hair. They assert their rebellious status through male comradery and playing music loudly from a moving vehicle—whether a motorcycle, car, or auto rickshaw taxi (‘tuk tuk’). In this way, creating and consuming mahraganat challenges dominant notions of masculinity—such as, being hard-working, family-oriented and modest--which may be unachievable, or undesirable to them, because of their marginalized status (see Benchouia 2015).

Masculinity and Leadership

Ideas of good leadership were also an important part of narratives about masculinity and the revolution after Mubarak’s resignation. For example, the successful band Cairokee, which shot to fame during the 25 January uprising with their song ‘Sawt al-Hurriya’ ('The Voice of Freedom'), released a song called ‘Matloob Zaeem’ ('A Leader is Wanted') in the summer of 2011. The song lists the qualities of an ideal leader, which include being just, fair, having integrity, providing and protecting the people and being of the people. The song operates as a critique of previous politicians, implicitly characterized as corrupt, self-serving, elitist and despotic, and reflects hopes for a different kind of leader in the wake of the revolution. The song ends:

"Shape is not a requirement, age is not a requirement and religion is not a requirement. The only requirement is to be human. In short, a male of the species [in Egyptian Arabic, ‘dakar’] is needed."

‘Dakar’ conjures up a notion of ‘more-than-the-average-man’ – something like, ‘a real man’s man’. Whilst the Cairokee song presents a new type of ideal leader, nonetheless, it reinforces the association of leadership with masculinity.

Another prevalent representation of the ideal leader was represented through the figure of General Abdel-Fattah El-Sisi (president of Egypt after 2014), who was commonly portrayed as possessing idealized characteristics of masculinity. A visual image heavily associated with his 2014 presidential campaign, rife on social media, was the depiction of El-Sisi as the ‘lion’ of the armed forces, thereby associating El-Sisi directly with super strength and bravery. The popular song, ‘Teslam El Ayadi’, celebrated El-Sisi and the military for ‘saving’ Egypt from the Muslim Brotherhood.

Distinctive from previous presidential candidates, El-Sisi made women an important part of his campaign and women featured prominently in much of what appears to be regime propaganda. Despite his advocacy of virginity tests against women who accused the military of rape in 2011, El-Sisi became known as the first Egyptian president to speak out in opposition to violence against women, overseeing Egypt’s first law criminalizing sexual harassment. After a graphic gang sex attack on a woman in Tahrir Square, during the celebrations for El-Sisi’s inauguration, went viral on social media, the president visited the survivor in hospital. The image of El-Sisi presenting a bunch of red roses to the victim as she lay in hospital was repeatedly broadcast on state television as a clear signal to the nation that women would be protected under El-Sisi’s regime. This image of El-Sisi also served to differentiate himself from the deposed former president Mohamed Morsi, who was accused of trying to attack women’s rights under his presidency.

El-Sisi was also widely represented as a ‘heart throb’ and an object of desire, also in contrast to the deposed Morsi. This was both an official narrative advanced by state elites in Sisi’s presidential campaign but also promoted by non-state actors, such as female actor, Lubna Abdel Aziz. Sisi’s image was prevalent on Egyptian state television, alongside other images of youthful, militarized, masculine images in music videos promoting the armed forces. In the run up to the presidential elections, El-Sisi’s appeal led to a curious commodification of Egypt's newfound virility with the sale of El-Sisi chocolates, male perfumes and burgers. The ‘CC brand’ was even found on female underwear and pyjamas. suggesting ‘liberation’ from the backward religious conservatism associated with Morsi's leadership. This commodification of Sisi’s popularity was mocked on the Bassem Youssef show after Morsi’s removal.