Conclusion: Walking next to the Wall, inside the Wall, and away from the Wall

“We are now going through a phase where we are not required to walk next to the wall, but walk in the wall.”

– Prominent lay leader within the Coptic Orthodox Church on the state of sectarian relations in Egypt in 2011

In Hassan and Morcos, a highly acclaimed film about Muslim–Christian relations in Egypt, featuring prominent actors Omar Sharif (playing the Muslim Hassan) and Adel Imam (playing the Christian Morcos), there are two scenes in particular that are laden with humor and very telling about the state of Christian–Muslim affairs. Since the film script has been published (Mo’aty 2008:17), it is worthwhile quoting the relevant parts:¹Close

Scene 5

Strict security procedures surrounding a large building; we see police cars and central security forces surrounding the building. The camera angle rises to show us a sign—“the 51st conference on national unity.” We see sheikhs and priests entering the electronic gates.

The [news] correspondent:

The 51st conference on national unity advocates national unity, bringing together Muslims and Christians on the land of the Crescent and the Cross.

Then we see to the side two priests walking together, one whispering in the other’s ear:

Priest one:

What conferences, Luka! Even if we live for a hundred years in this country, we won’t get anything. We can’t build a church and we can’t fix a toilet in a church without getting a permit that takes a year to obtain!

Priest two:

And it is not just that! Not one of our own [people] gets appointed in a position in the state. Tell me how many Christian ministers do you have in the government!

Priest one:

It is all kisses and hugs and conference announcements, but what is in the heart is in the heart!

Two sheikhs crossing the road to the entrance of the conference are whispering:

Sheikh one:

Oh, Sheikh Gad, what persecution are they talking about? We are the ones persecuted! Every time we build a mosque they build a church next to it. Three quarters of the country’s wealth is in their hands. They have left nothing [no trade] that they don’t work in!

Sheikh two:

And bank managers and all the CEOs of the large investment companies are Christians!

Sheikh one:

They kept on saying “our feast is not a [public] holiday” until all their feasts have become holidays and together with ours, nobody works in this country any more, we are spending our days on holiday!

Scene 6

Inside the conference hall, one of the sheikhs is speaking at the podium:

Sheikh:

Our religion has called upon us to treat our Christian brothers well and I feel that the sentiments of love and fraternity that bind us have reached their height . . . as for the fanatics and terrorists that bear upon the Islamic umma and bring us ill repute, they have nothing to do with Islam, and Islam is innocent of them, the innocence of the wolf from the blood of Jacob.

Intense applause and people nodding with their heads and we see all four men, the two priests and two sheikhs calling out, hugging, and shaking hands:

All:

Long live the Crescent with the Cross, long live the Crescent with the Cross!

And the scene continues.

These two scenes encapsulate well the disconnect between the publicized discourse in the formal arena and the hidden narratives of informal spaces. It seems that there are spaces in which there is an expectation of a particular discourse, a modus operandi of how to engage with sectarian matters. There is then another space, away from the official glaze, where the insecurities, the deep sense of grievance, and the rumors circulate. The situation is almost schizophrenic, with the official discourse manufacturing a mantra of unity that at times seems artificial and contrived. This situation typifies what James Scott terms the official versus the hidden transcript, which reflects the dynamics of a particular power hierarchy. The side conversation between the two priests, which is very different from the publicized stance, reflects what Scott (1990: xii) observes, namely that “every subordinate group out of its ordeal creates a hidden script that represents its critique of power spoken behind the back of the dominant.” The narrative of exposure to persistent religious discrimination (in relation to places of worship and equal representation) based on an inherent fanaticism that runs deep shows an acute awareness on the part of many Copts of their predicament as second-class citizens, and this hidden transcript represents a resistance to it as it shows a subversion of the politically correct account of perfect fraternity and harmony based on equality and mutual acknowledgment.

Yet those in a dominant position also share a hidden transcript, which is critically important in highlighting how power hierarchies are justified. As Scott reminds us, “The powerful for their part also develop a hidden transcript representing the practices and claims of their rule that cannot be openly avowed” (1990: xii). This manifests itself in the hidden transcript of the two sheikhs. Beyond the gaze of the media, the sheikhs are aware that Copts talk about persecution, and they find no grounds for this in reality— they reiterate the rumor that Copts have asserted a powerful presence in the realm of the market and trade. They negate Copts’ sense of a lack of recognition by the majority by making reference to the fact that some years ago, the government made 7 January (Coptic Christmas) a public holiday for all, Muslims and Christians. They wonder if granting citizens this additional day off has undermined the work ethic just in order to please the religious minority. In other words, they feel that the minority is being appeased at the expense of the country’s national interests.

This duality of discourse, an official one and a hidden one, reflects the state of sectarian denial Egypt is in, which is in turn indicative of a power hierarchy that wishes to maintain the status quo. Occasionally this official discourse is punctured by brave attempts by those who wield power to articulate inequalities and propose active measures to redress them. The Oteify Report, published at a time of intense discrimination, is one of them. Regrettably, these official stances are few and far between and are never followed through at an implementation level because resistance to challenging the status quo runs very deep.

The challenges of fostering unity while recognizing pluralism are not particular to Egypt. The structural causes of the rise of sectarianism and the proposed policies, approaches, and frameworks needed to manage and mitigate religious tensions have been time and time again developed, deliberated, and disseminated. Yet the political will to pursue a policy of unity through pluralism is weak, and no amount of flagrant exposure of the persistent social and political cost of ignoring sectarianism seems to alter policies.

This concluding chapter summarizes ways in which the findings presented in this book challenge some of the normative values and arguments related to sectarian conflict in Egypt and discusses some of the possible scenarios for the future.

One of the striking patterns of engagement with sectarian assaults on Copts in Egypt is a policy pursued by parts (but not all) of the media and by officials that involves denying that the assaults are sectarian. This entails denying that reactions are driven by hostility toward the religious other and lead to demonization of the victims—the implication being that they have done something to incur the wrath of the reasonable majority—and the distribution of blame, which occurs literally by arresting victims and perpetrators and morally by denying that there are injustices perpetrated through power inequalities. Such a pattern can be seen in many of the sectarian acts of violence that took place in Mubarak’s era, as well as post-Mubarak, as is evident in the case of the treatment of the zabbalin (garbage collectors) or the Maspero Massacre.

This three-D policy may take various forms. Sometimes the sectarian nature of an incident is not denied but represented in a way that downplays its severity or its scale, or conceals the real perpetrators behind it. It obstructs the possibilities for addressing the structural causes of ruptures in social cohesion and by default increases the mistrust on both sides. There is a need for the emergence of local, collective, non-state actors that can expose violations, press for their recognition, advocate for policy action, and carry the political weight to hold accountable those who are in power. At the moment there are efforts of this kind on the ground but because they lack a strong collective will behind them and the kind of political weight that derives from a clearly defined constituency, they remain quite weak.

As highlighted in the quantitative analysis, one of the key triggers of communal tensions is when, on a local level, an ordinary, day-to-day dispute that has nothing to do with religious differences assumes a sectarian character. This raises alarm bells regarding the extent to which the social fabric in society has come under strain. It is telling that in one focus group in May 2012 in a poor squatter settlement of Cairo (Mu’assasat al-Zakat) one Coptic woman confided that what worried her the most now was the speed with which things that have nothing to do with religion whatsoever rapidly develop into sources of sectarian conflict. She said that she had stopped allowing her son to play football with his friends in the neighborhood alleys in case they had a routine disagreement (as children do when playing) and the matter assumed a sectarian dimension, with Muslims taking the side of the Muslim boy and Christians having to remove the Coptic boy from the scene before rumors spread and violence ensured. This is in no way to suggest that this kind of strain on social cohesion represents the situation across the entire country. It is to say, however, that against the backdrop of the salience of religious difference in everyday life for a considerable part of the population that has been denied opportunities for awareness raising, education, and social and economic well-being, the conditions are often ripe for severe ruptures in communal relations arising out of the most insignificant, marginal everyday life occurrences.

Two particular triggers are significant in virtually all the cases of the instigation of sectarian violence explored: the power of rumor and speedy mass mobilization. As the documentation of incidents shows, rumors of conspiracies to assault Muslims or denigrate Islam and its symbols become central to the mobilization of bias. These do not happen in a vacuum and often there are actors who assume the role of mobilizing the crowds to act. What is alarming is the speed with which people mobilize and engage in torching, looting, and plundering targeted homes and property. At its height, it has put Egypt in danger of civil war, as when SCAF called upon “honorable citizens” to defend the Egyptian army it said was under attack by Christians. The discourse then did not become one of defending the Egyptian army only, but of defending Islam itself. Similarly, when, following the clashes in front of the presidential palace (al-Ittihadiya) in December 2012, Muhammad al-Beltagi, the head of the FJP, claimed that 60 percent of the protesters who were demonstrating against President Morsi were Christian, this was in the context of a deeply polarized political scene a highly inflammatory statement inciting anti-Christian sentiment among the pro-Morsi camp.

Sectarian assaults on non-Muslims increased during Egypt’s first year of transition both in frequency and in severity. This challenges the notion that communal tensions can be solely attributed to the Mubarak regime and will die down as political spaces open up. This is commensurate with democratization literature, in particular that which draws on the experiences of Eastern European countries, where transitions from authoritarian rule unleashed social and political forces that heightened the potential for ethnic conflict. However, as with several Eastern European examples, ethnic difference did not mean that ethnic conflict was inevitable. By giving due recognition to minorities and taking active steps to create an inclusive political order, these countries ensured that the conditions for pluralistic societies were laid. In Egypt, the ousting of Mubarak offered a golden opportunity to put in place the foundations of an inclusive political order. The repertoire of good will built at Tahrir Square, the images, stories, and songs about Muslims and Copts as Egyptians joined in a common struggle for a better future for themselves and for their children could have been reproduced and reinforced for the purposes of a genuine discussion about a new era of national unity. Operationally, it would have required two policies: a zero-tolerance policy toward sectarian assault on non-Muslim minorities and active measures to include them in all policy-making positions. Neither policy was adopted. What emerged was a political order that seemed to put in place the procedural elements of a democracy (such as elections) but suffered from the tyranny of a majoritarian political order that was by no means inclusive: excluded were the youth who led the revolution, the women who had stood side by side with men in every single public square, and the Copts, who had participated in the revolution at every level and every point in time.

While it is important to emphasize that SCAF dealt with all revolutionary liberal forces with ruthlessness and repression, it is also important to recognize its role in fostering a status quo of religious persecution. SCAF became the perpetrator of sectarian assault, as was witnessed in the firing of live ammunition on demonstrators in Muqattam and in its responsibility for the Maspero Massacre. SCAF became complicit in administering injustice, giving its blessing to the Islamist-led informal reconciliation committees. One can only speculate as to why SCAF assumed such a discriminatory policy. I would argue that it stemmed from two realities: its informal pact with Islamists and the fact that SCAF itself is not a separate island, for religious bias permeates its ranks in the way it does the rest of the Egyptian population.

In the previous chapters, it has been argued that the SSI assumed a key role in ‘managing’ the ‘sectarian file’ in Egypt. In so doing, it was on occasion responsible for instigating sectarianism by turning a blind eye to reports of rumors spreading, flyers being distributed, and so on. It has also played a central role in mismanaging sectarian conflict to the point of complicity. The reconciliation committees were run by the SSI, and it is owing to its mediation that injustice was delivered. In other instances, it played a key role in positively deflating tensions and using hard power to prevent sectarian assaults from being launched. Much depended on who presided over the SSI in a particular geographical location as well as the nature of the instructions they were receiving from headquarters. In post-Mubarak Egypt, there are signs that the SSI is still involved in managing sectarian matters under the new umbrella of “the National Security apparatus,” although it has assumed a more covert role.

At the same time, it would be inaccurate to suggest that without the SSI, there would be no sectarian conflict. The SSI was only able to play such a role because there were so many enabling environmental factors arising from the growing religiosity of the wider Muslim population that made it possible for them to divide and rule so effectively in this way.

The policies and practices of Islamist actors who assumed political power in government and on the streets between February 2011 and February 2012 have directly undermined social cohesion and contributed to an escalation of sectarian tensions. While 2011 was far bloodier than 2012 in terms of lives lost in sectarian attacks, the number of sectarian assaults increased from 70 in 2011 to 112 in 2012. Despite the pronouncement of several reassuring statements that Copts have nothing to fear from Islamists being in power, the role of Islamists in contributing to a divisive social and political reality manifests itself on several fronts:

Nonetheless the deep politicization of Egyptian society that has occurred as a consequence of the 25 January uprising has also meant increased resistance on the part of newly emerging Coptic actors. In this book it has been argued that there has been a reconfiguration of power dynamics vis-à-vis Coptic agency that started well before the 25 January uprisings but that has been further consolidated in its aftermath. Such a reconfiguration has had a positive impact by encouraging Copts to become much more assertive in their demand for equal citizenship rights. The emergence of civil Coptic movements with a known constituency has proven to be a powerful source of resistance to the escalation of violence and to the growing powers of Islamist movements. While resistance does not always produce the impact that is desired, as the Maspero Massacre has shown, it has nevertheless been successful in effecting change in small ways, such as forcing the army to rebuild a church, forcing the Ministry of Education to change examination dates so that Christian students can enjoy Christmas, and forcing the government to invite them to engage in dialogue.

While Coptic resistance movements are likely to thrive in a hostile political environment as Islamists grow increasingly intolerant of their activism, their powers will rest on a number of strategic balances:

On the Coptic Orthodox Church front, the new pope may choose to rebuild a pact with the new government based on the same conditions that governed relations between Pope Shenouda and President Hosni Mubarak: securing his standing and positioning within the Coptic community and the outside world in return for public support for the government’s policies. However, this is likely to backfire in the long run as it will generate the same compromises that were witnessed during the last years of Mubarak-Shenouda rule, namely that sectarian assault will be met with complacency, that the pope will rely on a number of key actors within the government, but that others within the government will circumvent those relationships and attempt to subvert them, and the highly politicized role of the Church will generate opposition from within its own ranks. On the other hand, the next pope may choose to keep a safe distance from the state, which would ultimately place him in a more marginal position politically with fewer political concessions at his disposal. However, such a position will ultimately maintain the Church’s autonomy. In such a scenario the Church may choose to distinguish itself from the emerging Coptic civil society, recognizing its role in advocating Coptic rights without either appearing openly to support or oppose them. This would certainly be an ideal situation; however, it is partly dependent on the political will of the new pope, Tawadros II, and of Muhammad Morsi and other central players. For example, will the SSI return to openly playing a central role in governance, and the leading role in mediating Christian–Muslim relations? It will also ultimately depend on the Muslim Brotherhood’s strategy of engagement. Will the Muslim Brotherhood in power wish to govern relations with the Coptic minority through the old millet system? The Brotherhood has been keen to focus on its belief that Copts should be governed according to their own religious laws. The Brothers were keen to show displays of respect for and solidarity with the Copts when Pope Shenouda III died in March 2012. If citizenship is going to be mediated through religious identity, then this would ultimately increase the power of the Coptic Orthodox Church in representing the Copts. The Muslim Brotherhood may wish to adopt such a stance in order to undermine the civil Coptic movements whose advocacy on Coptic grievances will undoubtedly represent a thorn in its side.

There are three possible scenarios for how the the Muslim Brotherhood-led government will engage with the Coptic question:

In view of the open and hostile opposition of Coptic citizens to the ascendency of the Muslim Brotherhood, the Brotherhood leadership might be tempted to seek to contain forms of Coptic resistance (such as the independent civil movements), put pressure on the new pope, and basically “put Copts in their place,” all falling under the rubric of protecting the unity of the nation in a time of transition. Its ability to adopt a policy of containment in relation to Coptic dissidence will partly depend on the signals it is receiving from the west, in particular the United States, regarding the extent to which it will turn a blind eye to this. It is also partly dependent on the strength and unity of the internal political opposition to the Muslim Brotherhood and other Islamist groups.

Once the Muslim Brotherhood have consolidated their hold on power, they may feel less under threat, and may choose to adopt a conciliatory stance toward Copts as part of a wider strategy of engaging in consensus politics. Such a policy may include appointing token Copts to positions of authority and making public appearances with the new pope, granting him particular concessions regarding the building of a few more churches. The benefits to the Brotherhood of such a policy would be to demonstrate to the international community that Islam and democracy are compatible and to coopt what they would regard as radical Coptic voices within. In view of the deep mistrust felt by a large proportion of Copts toward the Muslim Brotherhood, it will take a series of concerted and consistent measures to win over a sizeable Coptic constituency. However, it is also possible that the Brotherhood may choose not to adopt such a conciliatory stance for fear of losing support from within its own rank and file and in particular of incurring the hostility of Salafis, who were important allies to the Muslim Brothers during the presidential race.

I would argue that this is the most likely scenario, given that it would be in tune with the policy the Muslim Brotherhood adopted when its affiliate party, the FJP, assumed majority power in parliament. Such a policy would involve the president and the highest echelons of government deploying a discourse of equal citizenship, respect for the rights of all, and so on, while in practice giving Islamists and the general public the liberty to inhibit, suppress, and subjugate Coptic citizens. This is not to suggest that members of the public will necessarily always participate, but it is to say that the mobilization of people on religious grounds is a possibility. The benefits of such a tactic for the Brotherhood is that it would seem detached from any discriminatory policies and impress the international community with its moderate discourse while, in reality, one of its most belligerent enemies is being contained with minimal populist resistance from the majority.

However, these scenarios would not occur in a vacuum, and their implementation and outcome are just as likely to depend on how social and political forces, including Copts, interact.

For the future, there seem to be three possible courses of action:

One possible scenario is the integration of Copts into the life of the nation as citizens. It has been argued in this book that the only kind of political order that would allow for this is a secular, inclusive democratic system. By secular I do not mean the negation of the role or meaning of religion in people’s lives, but the acceptance of the notion of pluralist frameworks and reference points under the rubric of an Egyptian polity rather than an Islamist one. As I have argued, there is a very real tension between the Islamist political vision and that of Copts. Attempts at forcing Copts to accept Islamic civilization as the basis for a common identity are likely to backfire, as they have historically.

As for inclusive democratic policies, they can take many different forms. While this is highly controversial, I would argue that affirmative action is needed for both women and Copts in Egypt, since the level of social hostility toward their acceptance in positions of power runs very deep. Without affirmative action, both groups are likely to be excluded from the centers of power. However, quotas are a prerequisite but insufficient measure to create an inclusive democratic order. Such measures will have to be implemented in conjunction with other interventions in relation to security and the executive, judicial, and legislative branches of the state, in addition to social, cultural, and economic development. The introduction of quotas in a highly exclusionary political order will only lead to the appointment of token Copts who have no genuine links to a wider Coptic constituency. Further, the adoption of decentralization measures, which are a popular element of inclusive democratic policy programs, without fundamental changes in governance will also have a minimal impact on addressing structural causes of inequality. For example, the decentralization of decision-making to a local council level with respect to the construction and renovation of churches will be met with the same hostility and foot-dragging as when it was managed at a governorate level. Unless laws are reformed and rigorous implementation followed, decentralization will be pointless.

Another important dimension of inclusive democratic policies is the promotion of rule of law. In the case of Egypt, for example, it would mean replacing the informal reconciliation committees with proper recourse to the law and the mediation of these matters through court. However, unless the judiciary is reformed it will also rule through highly discriminatory verdicts. In short, inclusive democracy based on a common Egyptian identity (without negating religious plurality and allegiance) is necessary for the integration of the Coptic citizenry into Egyptian public and political life. However, policies will have to go beyond the procedural dimensions of liberal democracy to deal with some of the substantive socio-cultural aspects of change.

Assimilation differs from integration in that it necessarily requires the subjugation of one element of one’s identity in order to fit in within a wider polity. During Nasser’s era, for example, all identities, whether Egyptian or religious or particularistic, had to be subsumed under the pan-Arab identity. Since the Muslim Brotherhood assumed political power first in parliament (although that parliament was later declared null and void by the Egyptian Supreme Constitutional Court) and then through the presidential election, there has also been the expectation and concern that the primary allegiance of Egyptians is to the notion of the Islamic marja‘iya. As mentioned by Rafik Habib, and before him by Yusuf al-Qaradawi, the influential Islamic theologian, Islam is an aspect of Muslim identity by virtue of Muslims’ faith and civilization and for Christians by virtue of their belonging to Islamic civilization. This kind of assimilationist approach, which looks to finding common ground in the Islamic identity for Christians and Muslims, is becoming quite diffuse in many circles. In an obituary for prominent Egyptian thinker Anwar ‘Abd al-Malik, Diaa Rashwan described him as faithful to his Coptic Orthodox Church but also bearing strong allegiances to the Islamic civilization to which he belonged. Rashwan described him as a person whose identity was difficult to fathom: sometimes he appeared Christian, at other times Muslim, and unless one posed a direct question regarding his religious affiliation, it would not be possible to pinpoint it.²Close This praise for Abd al-Malik, for this sense of his belonging to an Islamic civilization while being a Copt, is meant to send a message on the salient normative values around identity.

However, Copts’ assimilation to an Arab identity is probably far less problematic than their assimilation to an Islamic identity, since the former does not clash with their identity whereas the latter does. Certainly there will be more Copts who will espouse the banner of Islamic civilization as the unifying base for all Egyptians. However, for the majority, they will simply retreat from public life to the greatest extent possible. If assimilation is pursued, it is likely to lead to a high level of political, social, and economic marginalization of all but the smallest number of Copts.

The expression that Copts “walk inside the wall” is intended to reflect this sense of going beyond the assumption of a marginal position to one of invisibility. It would in effect involve adopting a process of cocooning, or finding refuge in the Church to an extent far greater than that witnessed during the decades of marginalization under presidents Nasser, Sadat, and Mubarak.

Another possible scenario is for the Muslim Brotherhood or any other political actor in authority to increase the level of persecution and for this to be met with open resistance by Copts. In other words, if Copts collectively rise in protest as they did on previous occasions at Maspero, ‘Umraniya, and in the aftermath of the Two Saints Church bombing, this will not be met with much tolerance on the part of the wider community. Already the ‘hidden transcript’ shared by many Egyptian Muslims is that Copts have become too big for their boots and are provoking the wrath of the majority through their protests and antagonistic marches. It is impossible to predict how Copts—or citizens in any country for that matter—will react to persecution or growing perceptions of persecution. They may retreat into a cocoon or they may choose to revolt. There are many reasons why they may not necessarily choose to adopt an accommodationist, compliant stance. First, revolt may be catalyzed by a cumulative sense of oppression based on religious identity (the case of the zabbalin being the most extreme example of this, although others, in particular the inhabitants of poor rural and urban areas who have experienced exclusion in a systematic way, also fit this category). Second, for many, there is a strong sense on the part of many Coptic activists of no going back; that they cannot relinquish the idea of equal citizenship even if it is not practiced. Just as the uprisings of 25 January were as much about dignity as about bread and social justice, so too the Coptic revolts were about restoring dignity and social status as much as about materialist demands.

Moreover, if Coptic movements are met with extreme repression, this may drive some underground and generate radicalized offshoots that would then play a catalytic role in mobilizing Copts. If such conflict occurs, it will pose a serious threat to all Egyptians, as it will destabilize relations in both society and politics. Finally, there is the option of emigration for the very few who qualify and who can afford it. Yet for the majority of Copts, the response to rising sectarianism will vary according to both contextual and personal factors. For many, survival strategies will include at times accommodation to their realities (“walk inside the wall”) and at other moments subversion (in ever more covert ways), while in particular instances people will resort to open resistance. The question is: What will the long-term implications be for Egypt, politically, economically, and socially?