By Joseph Fahim
Throughout his entire career, great Japanese novelist Shusaku Endo (1923-1996) relentlessly explored the stigma of being both Japanese and Christian. The two concepts, according to Endo, are not mutually exclusive; the makeup of Japanese culture never seemed to accommodate Christianity.
At some point in my life, I felt the same way towards the position of Christianity in regard to the monolithic nature of Egyptian society. In school, the emphasis of religion classes was on the differences between Christianity and Islam rather than the similarities. “This land,” a Catholic teacher once told me, “ceased to be ours the day Islam conquered Egypt and forced the defenseless people to convert.”
For decades, we’ve been constantly made, by various conflicting forces, to feel that we, Christians, have no say in our country, stranded in limbo until we chart to a different land where we’ll still be treated as strangers.
The growing tension between Christians and Muslims over the past five years amplified this sentiment, reaching a devastating climax on New Year’s Eve with the bombing of Alexandria’s Two Saints Church. Up until a few days before the monumental January 25, I was skeptical about the possibility of harmonious relations between members of the two faiths when corruption and injustice are the order of the day.
The march that started on the morning of the Jan.25 and swiftly turned into the defining moment of Egypt’s modern history changed everything, including all sectarian predicaments. In those three weeks, the religious identity took a backseat to something, in my book, more worthwhile: National pride.
Tahrir Square didn’t only stand witness to the nation’s greatest revolution; it was the birthplace of a new Egypt where religion, age or social class did not matter.
Initially, the majority of Copts were reluctant to join their Muslim counterparts in overthrowing the Mubarak regime; a regrettable if expected reaction for having been pushed to the margins during both the Sadat and Mubarak eras.
For many, Mubarak served as a safety valve for the Muslim Brotherhood threat; the bogyman the former regime exploited so cunningly to prevent people from attempting to instigate any change.
For them, the Mubarak regime, as oppressive and unjust as it was, was the better of the two evils. The fear of turning into another Iran, of falling into a far more tyrannical rule, of being prosecuted, still hovers over the minds of thousands of Copts up till this very day, especially with the current power vacuum.
The Coptic Orthodox Church has been largely responsible for solidifying this perception, supporting Mubarak till the very end of the line, encouraging the faithful to stay home and not join the protests. The late comments by some Church officials that Copts are free to express their personal opinions felt like an afterthought.
But we did not listen, hitting the streets and joining our Muslim brethren in toppling one of the Arab world’s oldest dictators. Copts, who have frequently been criticized for their passivity, burst out of the cocoon partly created by the Church, taking their destiny into their own hand.
The Church continued to support the regime with Pope Shenouda announcing that no one but Mubarak is fit to lead the country at present. Clergymen were forbidden from joining the protests — not a single Orthodox priest was seen in Tahrir till now. A number of priests supporting the regime joined the first wave of Pro-Mubarak marches. Anti-Mubarak supporters inside the church were prohibited from voicing their opinion. Once again, we turned a deaf ear; in our hearts, we knew that God was on our side.
The strong conviction of the revolutionaries converted many, including the seniors grown increasingly apathetic towards the entire political system. More Copts started descending on Tahrir. On February 4, the “Friday of Departure,” Hundreds of Copts formed a human shield to protect the Muslim worshipers during the Friday prayers.
The genuine expression of national unity culminated with a Christian prayer in Tahrir on Sunday, February 6. Members of all Christian dominions — Orthodox, Catholic and Protestants — were joined by Muslims, many of whom listening to Christian sermons for the first time in their lives. Reciting the Lord’s Prayer with thousands of indistinguishable Muslims and Christians was one of the most inspiring experiences I’ve ever witnessed.
A British reporter asked me last week if I’m being over-optimistic about the future of Muslim/Christian relations. But why wouldn’t I be? During the past three weeks, not a single sectarian incident has been reported. When every facility nationwide was being looted on January 28 and 29, not a single church was attacked.
In an opinion piece I wrote following the Alexandria bombing, I stated that the spreading wave of religious fanaticism was spurred by poverty, oppression, corruption, absence of democracy and ignorance. The old regime sponsoring these ailments has finally collapsed, and with its fall comes a new dawn promising a new Egypt where every individual has a say, where corruption is instantly punished, where oppression has no place.
The possibility of Egypt evolving into a secular society remains unlikely, at least for the time being. The Muslim Brotherhood’s rise to power continues to represent a major hazard for most Copts. Although I still reject the idea of having a political party based on any religious affiliation, I firmly believe that the Muslim Brotherhood — who have grown more moderate and progressive over the last decade and less popular over the past couple of years — are not the imminent threat Copts and many seculars believe they are. Nevertheless, an underestimation of their influence and capabilities would be imprudent; the Brotherhood, after all, are the only viable and most organized political party at the moment.
Whatever transpires next would, without a doubt, be light years better than the wretched 30 years the country has lived during the Mubarak reign. We can now create anything we wish to create and we’re all adamant to change.
I’ve suffered from an identity crisis for as long as I remember. Home is where the heart is, and with a family based in the US and the close friends scattered around the globe, Egypt has never felt like home for me, hating it for repelling everyone I’ve ever cared about. And then the revolution came.
I’ve always disregarded the notion of nationalism and I can’t claim to have ever taken pride in being Egyptian. This revolution changed everything for me. In those epic three weeks, I’ve seen everything good about this country: the kindness thought to have long gone, the courage and resilience deemed to have been crushed by Mubarak’s iron hand, the love that has transcended every social, economic and religious barrier.
On Friday, it didn’t matter if you’re Christian, Muslim or atheist. It didn’t matter if you’re rich or poor. It didn’t matter if you’re liberal or conservative. That day, we were all Egyptians period, high on national pride, intoxicated by the victory brought about by our collective labor. And for the first time in my life, Egypt was home.
Joseph Fahim is the Culture Editor of Daily News Egypt.
