Mourning Pope Shenouda III, Cairo, March 17, 2012. Khalil Hamra/Associated Press/Corbis
August 13, 2012
Over
the last few decades, Copts—and most other Egyptians—have experienced various
forms of political, social, and religious repression. But the Copts’ particular
victimization as Christians became clearly highlighted just a few weeks before
the outbreak of the January 25 revolution. On New Year’s Day 2011, the Two
Saints Coptic Orthodox Church in Alexandria was targeted by a car bomb, which
killed twenty-three people and injured close to a hundred. In the televised
funerals following the attack, Coptic mourners chanted “mish ‘ayzino” (“we don’t
want you”) at the governor of Alexandria and his deputies, who had come to pay
their respects. Soon after, protests broke out in Cairo and Alexandria, where
Copts—and even on occasion their Muslim supporters—battled police forces in an
eerie prelude to the revolution. The boldness and the anti-government tenor of
the demonstrations reflected widespread frustration with the status quo. It
seemed mish ‘ayzino resonated with all Egyptians.
Christians
in Egypt trace their history back to Saint Mark’s arrival in Alexandria in the
early days of Christianity. There are an estimated eight million Coptic
Christians, roughly 10 percent of the population, plus perhaps 100,000 other
Christians adhering to a variety of denominations. When the revolution erupted
on January 25, many Christians were readily prepared to join the protests
despite calls from the Coptic Orthodox Church leadership to abstain from
participation. The late Pope Shenouda III’s caution regarding the protests
reflected the church’s longstanding position to maintain the status quo and
also captured a widespread belief among Copts that a power change or vacuum
would create an opening for Islamist groups whose agendas were either unclear
or were outright hostile towards non-Muslims. Conversely, several Coptic
intellectuals and activists argued that the Pope should eschew politics and
that the church should not speak on behalf of Copts in non-spiritual matters.
Regardless, and before long, numerous Christians were marching on Tahrir as the
world watched the square transform into a utopian space where Muslims and
Christians prayed side by side, protecting each other from harm. This Tahrir
moment allowed Copts, perhaps for the first time in decades, to imagine that
they too could have a meaningful role as equal citizens of a democratic Egypt
and that they need not look to their clerical elders for political leadership
and guidance.
But the
excitement quickly gave way to uncertainty. For Copts, the first political
battle came in March 2011 during the vote on the constitutional referendum.
Many joined with revolutionary activists in opposition to the Islamists and
called for a re-writing of the entire constitution prior to parliamentary or
presidential elections. Echoing the unifying spirit from the earliest days of
the revolution, activists challenged Article 2, which states that Egypt’s
official religion is Islam and that Islamic legal principles are the main
source of legislation. However, a referendum to implement limited modifications
onto (rather than repeal) the constitution passed with 77 percent of the vote,
and hastened an electoral process that favored, as activists had correctly
anticipated, the election of established political groups, such as the Muslim
Brotherhood.
Then,
within a few months of the revolution, a series of sectarian-motivated attacks
against persons and properties, as well as church burnings, rattled the
community and called into question the Copts’ place in a future Egypt. Among
the most prominent and divisive of these acts was the burning of churches in
Sol (March 2011), Imbaba (May 2011), and Al-Marinab (September 2011). The
rising tensions and feelings of increased political marginalization led to the
formation of the Maspero Youth Union, an umbrella group that mobilized Copts to
demand justice and accountability for the ongoing violence being committed
against Christians. The group, whose name derives from its protest hub near the
state television building in the Maspero area of downtown Cairo, represented an
emerging style of Coptic political activism, one that was autonomous from the
Orthodox clerical leadership. Following the revolution, the Church, for its
part, seemed out of step. In October, the Maspero Youth Union and the Free
Copts movement staged a demonstration in Maspero that was violently dispersed
by security forces, resulting in the deaths of twenty-seven people and the
wounding of more than two hundred. Coptic Church leaders condemned the violence
and mourned the fallen “martyrs” but they remained conspicuously silent about
the role of the military in these attacks.
In a
few short months, many Egyptians, particularly Christians, were beginning to
lose hope in the realization of equality, freedom, and accountability, the very
ideals of social justice promised by the revolution. Following the Maspero
attacks, then-Prime Minister Essam Sharaf promised that a Unified Law for the
Places of Worship protecting Christian churches would be promulgated within
thirty days, but the law never materialized. After the Muslim Brotherhood and
Salafists scored an overwhelming victory for Islamists in the parliamentary
election in December and January, Coptic hopes for basic rights seemed even
more tenuous. The new parliament mostly ignored stipulations for
Christian-Muslim equality: for the fair and just enforcement of laws regarding
freedom of worship and freedom of religion; for the removal of one’s religious
identification from Egyptian identity cards; and for the institution of
anti-discriminatory provisions in the workplace, among others. The fear that
Egypt would turn into a religious state, where Muslim rights and roles were
privileged over those of non-Muslims, seemed more immediate than ever.
The
presidential election in May and June was another political battle for Copts.
Christian volunteers visited rural areas and urban slums in a muwatana campaign
(roughly, “instilling citizenship”), a sort of informal civic program to
educate their coreligionists about candidates and the voting process. In the
first round, most Copts opted for secular candidates with votes well
distributed between Hamdeen Sabahi, Amr Moussa, and Ahmed Shafik. The voting
pattern reflected the same generational divide present among Egyptians at
large, with many youth casting their votes for the Nasserist-socialist Sabahi.
In the runoff, Copts voted in large numbers for Shafik, the former Air Force
commander who stressed security, and greeted Mohammed Morsi’s victory with
concern. Although Morsi has vowed to be a president for all Egyptians, his
affiliation with the Muslim Brotherhood, which has historically sent mixed
messages regarding the rights of non-Muslims and women, elicits mistrust from
many Egyptians. Morsi’s promise to appoint Coptic and female vice presidents
brought condemnation from his Salafi supporters, some of whom have allegedly
called for the implementation of the jizya tax on non-Muslims in a new Egypt.
These developments have prompted many Copts to contemplate or pursue emigration
to the West. Upper and middle class Copts might be increasingly motivated to
leave, though their less fortunate coreligionists who also tend to bear the
brunt of discrimination and sectarian tensions have fewer prospects. Coptic
sources report that as many as one hundred thousand Copts have left Egypt since
the revolution, although the the figure has not been well corroborated.
These
events also occurred in the context of the death of Pope Shenouda in March at
the age of eighty-eight. For the last forty years he was the public face of the
Coptic community. Some Copts have argued that his role resulted in the
community being more isolated, that Copts came to be seen as a separate part of
Egyptian society by just having one figurehead—and a religious one—as their
spokesman.
The
future patriarch’s attitudes and policies will likely be vital in shepherding
the millions who still see the papal seat as representing the Coptic voice.
Yet, the Orthodox Church’s political wane during the revolution has created new
loci of Christian leadership. Aside from the burgeoning youth movement, an
important space has been opened for other Christians to emerge as dynamic and
forward-thinking leaders. In particular, the Kasr Al-Dobara Evangelical
(Presbyterian) Church in the vicinity of Tahrir Square has come into greater
prominence and has been dubbed by many as the “Church of Liberation.” The
church’s pastoral and youth leaders were active from the earliest days of the
revolution, and the church served as a makeshift hospital for some of the
wounded during the numerous skirmishes that followed in later months. Kasr
Al-Dobara was also the first to host a commemorative service for those killed
during the revolution and to honor the families of the fallen—both Muslim and
Christian.
Coptic
Evangelical leaders have also become ubiquitous on Christian satellite
channels, calling for national unity and for solidarity against all forms of
oppression. On November 11, 2011, a twelve-hour prayer marathon, broadcast live
on SAT-7, was organized in one of Cairo’s largest churches in Muqattam and was
reportedly attended by tens of thousands. This inter-denominational and
charismatic service was infused with praise, song, and tearful worship. It
revealed that as Egyptian Christians feel increasingly threatened in the
uncertain political climate, they have become more willing, at least on a
grassroots level, to overcome traditional denominational differences for the
sake of unity and communal coherence.
The diverse
forms of political activism, inter-denominational grassroots mobilization, and
increased media attention illustrate how Copts are trying to become agents of
their future, even as they feel targeted, alienated, and rightfully uncertain
of that same future. Many Christians—young and old, men and women, Evangelical,
Catholic, and Orthodox—believe that Egypt’s revolution was dependent, in great
part, on their courage and their ongoing activism against injustice. They now
wonder whether a new Egypt, dominated by an Islamist agenda, can safeguard and
accommodate their rights as equal citizens.