One year ago, young Egyptians poured into Tahrir Square in a revolt whose outcome surprised them as much as the world.

It has become fashionable to say their rebellion failed, since its mostly secular organizers couldn’t translate Internet skills into political power. When Egypt’s first freely elected parliament in six decades held its opening session last week, Islamists had more than 70 percent of the seats, liberals less than 20 percent, and an alliance of young revolutionaries only 2.35 percent.

So it was the right moment to speak with Wael Ghonim, the young Egyptian Google executive who created and administered the Facebook page that sparked the Jan. 25 revolution. Ghonim, whom I interviewed by phone from Cairo, has just published a fascinating book called “Revolution 2.0: the Power of the People is Greater than the People in Power,” which lays out details of how the rebels organized – complete with many of their email exchanges. There is an energy in the book and in Ghonim’s words that make one feel it is much too soon to assume the revolution is over, or to underestimate what the rebels achieved.

“I think the revolution is a process,” says the intense, bearded 31-year-old with an MBA from the American University of Cairo. “Most of us were not politically mature, we didn’t see the challenges. But if we look back a couple of years, and anyone had told me that (President Hosni) Mubarak would have stepped down, parliament would be dissolved, and 27 million would vote, I wouldn’t have believed it.

“So many Egyptians have been freed from the psychological barrier of fear.”

It is that new freedom – from fear – that Ghonim believes holds the key to Egypt’s future. His presumption – as yet unproven – is that an aroused public will hold its Islamist government, and its military, to account.

Ghonim’s book describes how he and his Internet colleagues broke their own fear barriers. As an educated, tech-savvy Egyptian, he chafed at the lack of political alternatives to Mubarak. His first move was to anonymously create what later became the official Facebook page for Nobel laureate Mohammed ElBaradei, who galvanized young people by challenging the Mubarak regime in 2010.

As his courage grew, Ghonim felt impelled to act when he saw a grisly online photo of a young man beaten to death by police in Alexandria. He set up a Facebook page called Kullena Khalid Said (We are all Khalid Said), which later became a rallying cry for the Jan. 25 rally, originally called to protest police brutality. The book describes how Ghonim and fellow Internet buffs gradually shed their fear of action and worked up to organizing the Tahrir protest. It also details Ghonim’s terrifying experiences when he was arrested and interrogated.

I asked Ghonim whether he fears an Islamist government will install a religious autocracy, perhaps in cahoots with the Egyptian military, which wants to retain its power. I also asked what the Internet rebels can do to protect the new democracy, especially since the public has tired of demonstrations.

Ghonim admits that some revolutions lead to new dictatorships. But he believes a public freed from fear will hold the Muslim Brotherhood (and the military) to account.

“I trust the Egyptian people, and I trust democracy,” he said. “People voted for the Muslim Brothers because of the good social work they did in the past. Now they will have to deal with the economy and lack of jobs.

“In five years (at the next election) the people will judge them on what they achieved.” If they don’t produce, he says, the public will vote them out.

As for what the young rebels can do, he has helped form a political-pressure group called Our Egypt, whose leaders include “one liberal, one leftist, one Salafi, one religious leader and a filmmaker.” Its goals: to lobby parliament on economic reforms and human rights protections; to hold the army accountable for its promise to leave politics; and to encourage more Egyptians to get politically involved.

Can his group reach out to the 80 percent of Egyptians who aren’t Internet users? Can it counter the propaganda on state TV that still demonizes independent civic groups? Ghonim hopes so, even if its members have to canvass door to door.

“We need to get a critical mass of the public interested in politics,” he says. “We have to give them a sense of ownership. Dictators don’t want people to be involved. If there is accountability, it’s very hard to push their heads down again.”

As we say goodbye, I hear Ghonim arguing with the taxi driver in whose cab he’s been riding. “The driver recognized me and didn’t want me to pay,” he said, “but I insisted. I told him ‘there are no more idols or dictators here.’ ”