They stood in a moment of silent unity, honoring the revolutionary martyrs who helped make this historic dream a reality. Then, one by one, 508 parliamentarians – Egypt's first democratically elected representatives in 60 years – answered their names and pledged to honorably serve the interests of the nation.

And then the cracks began to appear. The first ultra-conservative Salafist Parliament member to go off script was Mamdouh Ismail, who added "… if not in contradiction with God's doctrine" to his oath of office, and others quickly followed suit. Liberals hit back by tacking on their own spontaneous postscripts, promising to serve the nation "in accordance with the demands of the revolution".

Many sported bright yellow "No to military trials" armbands, an emblem of fierce opposition to the ruling generals, and refused to join a bout of collective applause for the army council that still maintains an iron grip on the country's levers of power.

The man charged with keeping control of proceedings, 81-year-old Mahmoud el-Sakka, alternated between verbally castigating his unruly charges and sitting back with a sigh as the fault lines of Egypt's political landscape were wrenched open again for all to see.

The junta that replaced Hosni Mubarak last February hoped that Monday's spectacle would epitomize Egypt's transition to democracy in the eyes of its people and the wider world. Many who crowded around television sets in Cairo's shop windows and pavement cafes to witness the inauguration would concur, but this was an event that symbolized so many other things as well.