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Inside the Muslim Brotherhood’s Thug Brigades: “They Look Strange. Beating Them is the Only Way”
Posted By Daniel Greenfield On December 8, 2012 @ 9:41 am In The Point | 3 Comments
Reports from Egypt are beginning to take on a strange William Shirer “Rise and Fall of the Third Reich” quality. It’s hard not to see certain similarities between the pre-Morsi Egypt and Weimar Germany where gangs of street thugs mobilized under a fanatical movement seized power and went on to murder millions. The street clashes in Egypt echo some of the German street violence between the right and the left that accompanied the rise of Hitler. And it doesn’t help that the Muslim Brotherhood was inspired and financed by Nazi Germany.
This report takes us into the ranks of the Muslim Brotherhood’s thug brigades. Perhaps the equivalent of the SA. And gives us a snapshot of the Muslim Brotherhood’s ground operation.
When I approached the ablution area, I saw a tall bearded man bleeding from a wound in the back of his head. Giving him napkins to wipe the blood, another man told him, “God will bless you for your good deed.”
The wounded man was wearing thick cloth rolls, wrapped around his stomach from his lower chest. Those around him thought it was to protect him from stones or bullets, but one of them said it was a belt for losing weight.
By now, there were two men before me in the queue. Apparently they did not know each other, but they knew they were both “Brothers,” which was enough for them to talk affectionately.
“They look strange,” said the first, pointing at the opponents. “Indeed they do,” said the other. “Beating them is the only way.”
They look strange. Beating them is the only way. It doesn’t get much more National Socialist than that.
Walid, one of the Brothers, took me to see the captives they abducted throughout the clashes. On the way, I watched the crowd as I was walking. The people seemed to behave as if in a real battlefield. More people came to replace those at the front lines, while others picked up stones from the metro tracks.
A small, red car was slowly moving among the people, with the driver speaking in a megaphone that was placed on the top. “You do this for God,” he said. “Treat the prisoners well and send them to the organizing committee.”
I asked Walid about the organizing committee. “There is a committee for everything,” he said.
I heard them cheer something I used to cheer when I was drafted in the army: “Strength… Determination…Faith.” I also heard them say, “Morsy shoots to kill.”
Finally, we got to the place where they keep the captives, at one of the gates to the palace. There, I saw Central Security Forces in uniform alongside more Morsy supporters in civilian attire. The CSF officer did not mind that we talk to the captives, but a man in civilian clothes forbade us. It seemed he had more authority. “There is no place for the press here,” he told us.
This prompted the crowd to shout slogans against the media and order us to leave. “The Brotherhood channel is the best,” they shouted… At this point, more people started to approach, and another one told me to leave before they beat me.
But at least FDR wasn’t in bed with Hitler, the way that Obama is in bed with Morsi.
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