Going
home to Egypt,
I cannot shake off the sense of being a stranger in my own increasingly
conservative motherland.
January 2008
Intense is the word that most
readily comes to mind whenever I touch down in Cairo – and this time was no exception. The
sheer energy of the ever-waking metropolis of nearly 20 million souls so
closely packed together that buildings and roads reach up into the dust-laden,
smoggy sky like the dense canopy of a wild concrete jungle is both overwhelming
and infectious.
Arriving from the orderly calm of
northern Europe, I felt overwhelmed and swept
along by the mighty, gushing and noisy sea of people and unruly traffic. The
concentrated dose of humanity creates in us a buzz that has us positively
tripping, in an emotionally induced high, down memory lane.
People who dwell for most of the
time in the private lanes and cul-de-sacs of memory, as disembodied voices down
a telephone line, or as personalities made up of a combination of characters on
a computer screen suddenly leap into vivid life for a week or two of intense
socialising.
My presence in the city is a good
pretext for large family reunions which would normally not take place owing to
how busy everyone is. The mirth, laughter and voluble good humour at these
get-togethers are very therapeutic. The art of sound is something at which
Egyptians excel, and a group of socialising Egyptians can move from 0 to 100
decibels in about five seconds, and without the catalyst of alcohol.
Despite the familiarity of the
faces and surroundings, there is the inevitable sense of being a relative
stranger that years of absence create. Although it highlights the best aspects of
the different worlds I occupy, being home also throws into relief the fault
lines between my various existences.
Even though my maternal family are very tolerant and great respecters of individual
choice, there is a general sense among my kin that I am the wayward prodigal
son who has lost his way even more in foreign lands. The general consensus is
that I’m a good and decent man, but my lack of faith is troubling some members
of the family.
The most open demonstration of
this was two years ago, when we visited Egypt during Ramadan, the most overtly
religious period of the year. My daily life is largely devoid of religion, save
for my academic and journalistic interest in the subject. And so the omnipresence
of the holy month, despite the charm of this festive season, was like a
shocking jolt to the system.
One uncle who had never talked to
me about religion decided to break his silence and advised me to come to terms
with my faith and suggested that it was best for me to start moving closer to
God, because faith and ritual was the only sure-fire way to overcome the doubts
plaguing my conscience.
Despite his good intentions, this
circular logic struck me as being incredibly paradoxical. How can my doubting
mind take a massive leap of faith without being presented with convincing
evidence of why it should believe? After all, I have tried at different periods
of my life to follow some of the rituals, such as fasting Ramadan, but the
questions only multiplied.
The goodbye presents I received from my uncle and two
of my aunts at the end of the Ramadan trip were not-so-subtle hints of their
wishes for me: the CDs and tapes of the superstar telepreacherAmrKhaled and a book entitled The Muslim’s Creed, all of which have
been collecting dust ever since.
In private, my wife Katleen, who has a large fan club among my relatives,
jested that my family must feel that my being married to her had corrupted me.
I told her not to worry because my family knew I was a hopeless case long
before I’d met her – and perhaps when I was still living in Egypt, they still
held out hope that I would ‘reform’ and see the light.
The luxury of distance and the
fact that my mother is very open minded mean that I have it much easier than
many other non-believers living in Egypt. One young man has been
confiding his lack of faith to me and the loneliness it engenders because he
feels, aside from his closest friends, most people would not understand. He
dares not even hint at it to his parents because he fears his mother would
suffer a stroke at the revelation.
Faced with this epic spiritual
struggle and the cloak of resurgent religion, tradition and conservatism that
is increasingly stifling Egyptian society, we would take late night refuge, and
a different kind of spiritual sustenance with friends, in one of Cairo’s many
watering holes.
Ironically perhaps, the
increasingly visible expressions of faith, including hijabs
and regulation beards, have been accompanied by more visible expressions of the
contrary, such as the mushrooming of alcohol consumption. Every time we visit Egypt, we are
struck by the profusion of new alcohol outlets and the constant birth of new
Egyptian beers and wines.
Fortunately, for the most part,
my latest visit was a far more chilled-out affair, with most of my family
having sensibly decided that there was little point in dwelling over my lack of
faith.
However, my most religious aunt,
with whom I enjoy excellent rapport, could not help herself. Torn between not
wanting to hurt her feelings, being as honest as possible and not getting her hopes
up, I admitted to her that many aspects of Islam conflicted with my rationality
and all the available evidence pointed to the fact that all religions were
man-made, imperfect and not divine. The look of melancholy and disappointment
on her face left me troubled for some time.
I have pondered long and hard how
much more religious and conservative Egyptian society is actually becoming, and
why. At one level, it is fuelled by the politics of fear that have fed the
Christian right in the USA
and the far right in Europe.
While the ostensible signs would
point towards spreading religiosity in Egypt, these could be misleading.
Until the mid-1970s, Egypt’s
trendsetters were the liberal and progressive elite, and so even the religious
would strive to project a secular image. Today, the tone is increasingly being
set by conservative Islamic groups, and so even those who are not particularly
religious are superficially following the trend. Outward displays of religion
enable people to go about their lives under society's radar and get away with
some very un-Islamic things.
On a personal level, I may get
the impression Egypt
is growing more Islamic for several reasons. Although I have nothing against
people of faith, I dream of an Egypt
in which religion is a private affair. I live in a secular society (Belgium) and
most of the people I know are not religious. And when I lived in Egypt, the
liberal and permissive subculture I belonged to insulated me somewhat from the
full force of the conservative tide.
What seems pretty certain is that
Egypt
has become more polarised, with the chasm between the secular minority, the
conservative mainstream and the radical Islamic fringe having widened to
unprecedented levels. However, signs are that the country has reached a turning
point, as the Islamic movement fails to deliver the promised
land its supporters had expected, and, judging by what I've heard from
some people I’ve met, we may soon start seeing more and more people drift away
from religion.
Aside from the metaphysical, Egypt has been
overtaken by massive socioeconomic changes over the past few years. The booming
economy, with one of the fastest growth rates in the world, has generated a lot
of wealth, which has given the country a new sheen of modernity, prosperity and
a growing sense of confidence.
Many Egyptians are making
salaries that were previously undreamt of except for those who worked abroad.
In fact, some of my friends are making more in absolute terms in Egypt than I am in Europe.
Not being a very material man,
the spread of mall culture among the Egyptian middle classes is one unfortunate
side effect of this increasing wealth. Another far more troubling aspect is the
growing economic disparity between the haves and have-nots in this
neo-liberalist wet dream.
I cannot help but wonder how much
longer the largely passive and peaceable Egyptian poor will put up with their
worsening lot before the pressure cooker explodes. With the wave of industrial
action overtaking the country, it looks like Egyptian workers are beginning to
take matters into their own hands.
Another worrying development is
how the wealthier classes are increasingly abandoning the urban disaster area
of the capital and moving out in droves to exclusive gated communities outside
the city. Cairo’s
legendary safety and lack of violence is based partly on the fact that rich and
poor live shoulder to shoulder.
Where Egypt will be a few years from now
is anyone’s guess, especially once the country’s ageing and increasingly
unpopular president finally dies. One thing is for certain, interesting times
lie ahead.
