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Deadly Violence & Conflict Transformation article

Monks in Algeria: Loving Thy Neighbor at Gunpoint

What does it mean to love your neighbor?  What does it mean to love your neighbor when a neighbor is pointing a gun at you and your other neighbors?

Of Gods and Men

The French film “Of Gods and Men,” released in the U.S. on February 25th, is based on a true story. Though it failed even to be nominated for Best Foreign Language Film at the Academy Awards, it won the award for “best film” at France’s equivalent of the Oscars, the Cesar Awards, on February 25th. It follows the lives of French Catholic monks in the Atlas Mountains of Algeria in the 1990s. As the country descends into violent conflict between a repressively secularist state and radical Islamists, the Trappist brothers face an increasingly chaotic environment.

Caught between the brutal Algerian government and the ruthless Islamists, the monks struggle to know and share God’s love and peace.  What they experience alongside the beauty of the love they live out on a day-to-day basis in their monastic community is unbounded hatred, unspeakable violence, and, ultimately, unstoppable death seeping into their world.  They must decide whether to remain in their monastery or flee the violence and return to France.

In their vocations, they seek to love and serve God by being “brothers to all”—in their monastic community and with all the people they encounter.  All this becomes exponentially more complicated when new neighbors—a group of radical Islamists—come to the region.  The battles between the Algerian government and the Islamists for influence and control unleash persistent horror and tragedy.

Love Thy Neighbors, All of Them

The monks face a new question: What does it mean to share brotherly love at gun point?  Over the years, the lives of the monks and the neighboring villagers became intertwined.  The monks realize that if they leave, the consequences will be immense not only for themselves but also for the Muslim villagers who work in the monastery and whom the monks serve through a free medical clinic.

This is not a film about Christians vs. Muslims.  Rather, this is a film about Christians trying—imperfectly but still genuinely—to love Muslims.  And the monks must sort out what love means amid competing interpretive claims on the Muslim faith.  In the Islamists’ political fanaticism and obsession with political power, the monks encounter a “distorted” Islam that stands in sharp contrast to the religious faith the monks experience in the lives of the Muslim villagers who live alongside the monastery in peace, Muslims who love their families and their neighbors.

Witness to the Good News

Any Christian wondering what it may mean to share the good news of Jesus Christ with Muslims should see this film.  In the lives of these monks, sharing the good news with Muslims is not the type of “I’m right!” vs. “You’re wrong!” battle one can see unfolding in some areas of the world today.

At the same time, the monks don’t deny their Christian faith.  Hardly.  Even in an encounter with armed Islamists, the monastery’s abbot—named Christian—reminds the thugs’ leader that Jesus, “Issa” in Arabic, came as the “Prince of Peace.”

What is distinct, however, from the usual “I’m right!” vs. “You’re wrong!” battles is that it is love that is always the point of reference from which these monks share the good news.  It is through the living out of love in their very lives that these monks share the good news of Christ.

At the same time, however, love does not mean being naive.  The monks struggle to understand how to live out their vocation as circumstances change dramatically around them.

As the violence and chaos grow, the film spotlights the monks’ internal struggles to persevere in their vocation to love God and neighbor, as individuals and as a community.  And this journey is in no small part acoustic, taking place through the monks’ sung prayers—and in this, subtitles can be a great advantage rather than an annoyance, because they provide the rich texts of the monks’ sung prayers clearly and in detail.  To stay or to go?  The monks sing together, they pray together, they deliberate together.

The Centrality of Prayer

At its core, however, the decision-making process plays out in each brother’s relationship with God.  Through brilliant story-telling, “Of Gods and Men” brings viewers inside the intimate struggles of each individual monk, as each one offers personal, desperate, raw, and profoundly honest prayers before God.  One of the most important legacies of the lives of these monks, captured by this film, is to make the common challenge of living together with our deepest differences the subject of inner spiritual struggle—of individual prayer before God.

We live in an era of national upheavals, large-scale institutional inter-faith dialogue, and identity questions that juxtapose one group with another.  All these will continue.  But in the rush for large-scale change and large-scale achievements, we risk skipping what must be the starting point: prayer.

As “Of Gods and Men” ever so beautifully reminds us, figuring out how to love our neighbors in a multi-faith world—perhaps even at gunpoint—has no recourse to any simple formula.  Without individual prayer before God, trying to rest instead on having the “best” argument in “I’m right!” vs. “You’re wrong!” battles, we will be lost along the way, and so too will our neighbors, all of whom God wants to receive God’s love.

Jennifer Bryson
Jennifer S. Bryson is a Visiting Fellow at the Hudson Institute in Washington, DC. from 2009-2014 she served as Director of the Islam and Civil Society Project at The Witherspoon Institute in Princeton, New Jersey. She studied Political Science as an undergraduate at Stanford, medieval European intellectual history for an M.A. in History at Yale, and Greco-Arabic and Islamic studies for a Ph.D. in Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations, also at Yale.
Global Currents article

A New Egypt

In the aftermath of Mubarak’s resignation, Egypt stands at the dawn of a new era. It is an era borne of the ingenuity, sacrifices and dedication of an entire nation. We remember and recognize all those brave men and women who lost their lives but have ignited and galvanized the movement of change. The past month has been a testament to the spirit and integrity of the Egyptian people. It is with great pride that we witnessed the exemplary behavior of Egyptians during some of the most intense and anxious moments in the nation’s history.

The past few weeks were indeed difficult. At times, it was unclear what the next day held—whether food shortages would prove debilitating, whether the safety of the people could be assured, or whether the situation would spiral out of control. However, history bears witness that it is in times of difficulty that the Egyptian spirit of community asserts itself the strongest. The display of national unity over the past few weeks has been remarkable—people from all walks of life have joined together to imagine a better future. Religious, social and economic differences were put aside.

Egypt on Display for the World

It was Egypt as a whole that was on display for the world over the past few weeks, and it is Egypt that has emerged into a new era.

It is important to acknowledge at this juncture the crucial role played by the armed forces in maintaining peace throughout the nation, asserting their respect for and unity with the Egyptian people, and ensuring that the welfare of the nation transcends all. As they embark on this transitional phase, we have every confidence that they will continue to place these values at the top of their agenda and live up to their stated commitments.

The new era in which we stand is one of hope. It was built on an agenda of reform. While that agenda has largely focused on political and constitutional reforms, this is the moment to remind ourselves that this is simply the beginning, and that Egypt needs much more than this. To foster a truly healthy and vibrant society, we need to seize the moment and take measures to ensure economic and social reform as well. This requires the continued goodwill and dedication of all Egyptians. As recent events have shown, this is not beyond our reach. Now is the time to take advantage of the revolutionary moment and achieve truly comprehensive and far-reaching reforms that will help all members of society. We must continue to be united in solidarity, working towards a better future, and putting Egypt above all else.

It is important to point out that this moment is one of hope, and not one to satisfy old grudges. Islamic teachings emphasize that we not dwell on the past, and instead move into the future, active and alive, focused on creating a better future. Egypt has a unique ability to continue to remember the positive contributions of the various personalities in our nation’s history, despite their faults. Let us continue this tradition, and let old grievances neither divide us nor eat away at the spirit that has characterized this noble uprising.

Islam & Christianity, Together in Society’s Service

I have been at pains during my tenure as the Grand Mufti to stress inter-cultural and inter-religious dialogue. In particular, I was asked to participate in the pioneering initiative to promote cooperation between Christendom and the Muslim world. It is with great pleasure that I became a signatory to the declaration entitled “A Common Word Between Us and You,” in which Christian leaders joined with Muslim ones to emphasize their similarities and their dedication to the welfare of their societies as a result of their devotion to God.

This is an important time to affirm that the Dar al-Iftaa, Egypt’s supreme body for Islamic Legal Interpretation, remains at the service of the Egyptian people, prepared to offer religious guidance on all matters of national and international importance. We have always remained independent of political affiliations and orientations and have been providing pragmatic guidance to all those who are looking for authoritative guidance and we will continue to do so. We support the aspirations of the Egyptian people in the coming era, and we call on all Egyptians to ensure the safeguarding of the five overriding objectives of Islamic law—the preservation of life, property, honor, family, reason, and religion—values that are of course shared by all humanity.

For the past few years, the Dar al-Iftaa has made great strides in restructuring the organization to enhance accessibility and responsiveness, incorporating new technologies along the way. The circumstances of the past few weeks have inspired us to embark on a set of initiatives to move further along this path, improving lines of communication with the people. These include a presence on social media (Facebook, Twitter), meetings with youth and media regularly, as well as an expansion of our translation department that already translates religious guidance into nine languages.

The past month has deeply affected all segments of Egyptian society. The new era is one on which we embark together as a nation, full of hope, trusting in God, and determined to make Egypt prosper. I offer my sincere prayers and wishes for an orderly and peaceful transition of power and for crafting a constitution that suits and fulfills the aspiration and needs of the people and brings their efforts to fruition.

Shaykh Ali Gomaa
Shaykh Ali Gomaa was Grand Mufti of Egypt from 2003-2013. One of the most respected jurists in the Sunni Muslim world, he headed the Dar al Ifta, which issues thousands of fatwas per week.
Global Currents article

Beyond State Idolatry in Egypt

What we are currently witnessing in Egypt is a transformative moment that has been described by the pro-democracy demonstrators in the streets of Cairo as a “Tunisami”—a tsunami of social activism that first swept a despot in Tunisia from power and now in Egypt. The question on many people’s minds is: What comes next?

I hope Egyptians will embrace a lesson citizens in my own country of South Africa have learned the hard way: beware the idolatry of the state. After the first democratic elections in 1994, civil society organizations that were at the forefront of the struggle for liberation in South Africa became progressively weakened because the dynamic anti-apartheid leadership was absorbed into state structures. As a consequence, civil society in South Africa has become reliant on the state to provide solutions for the myriad social challenges that remain, and has lost the cohesiveness of the social movement that generated the demise of apartheid.

The lesson to be learned from the South African experience is simple: Be sure that civil society is not fully co-opted by the state, and strive to maintain strong and critically independent civil society organizations and social movements.

An Organic and Grassroots Social Movement

No matter what happens next in Egypt, the Middle East, Africa, and the world will never be the same. The three-decades-old despotic rule of Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak is over—thanks to the resilience of the Egyptian protesters who kept their street demonstrations going for 18 consecutive days.

Ordinary people in Egypt—poor, middle class, young, old, men and women, educated elites and workers—are using the power of collective action and social solidarity to shape their own destinies. Which is to say that this “uprising” is a genuine grassroots movement for social change and emancipation.

If there is any single significant element in the current protest movement in Egypt, it is the inspiring role of young people. They are creatively employing innovative social media, such as Twitter, Facebook, and the internet, to mobilize their social movement. Many analysts have pointed out that there is no single dominant party in the opposition movement, nor a single charismatic figure leading the protests. Perhaps this is an advantage rather than a liability, since it allows for a resilient and organic leadership to be forged in the trenches in Tahrir Square and elsewhere in the streets of Egypt.

Claim no Easy Victories

The sacrifices that the Egyptian people are making to transform their country are indeed enormous. And the lessons they have learned and nurtured along the way are priceless. The Egyptian people’s organizational strength and resilience will stand them in good stead in the post-Mubarak period when they face the difficult task of building a new social order.

Nonviolent revolution is thrilling—it’s hard not to cheer when the chains of autocracy are broken—but the real change comes after the revolution.When the bin Ali’s and the Mubarak’s of the world leave office, and new regimes are ushered in, independent civil organizations and strong social movements must continue to hold all those in power accountable to their moral and political mandate.

As any student of world history or advocate for social justice knows, regime change is no panacea. The end of a repressive regime is not the change but rather the opportunity for change. The power of the nation-state to transform its political economy and shape its own destiny has been drastically curtailed in our globalizing era. Powerful global economic and political interests will do just about anything to protect their economic and geo-strategic advantages.

The Egyptian people cannot become weary or let their guard down in the struggle for social justice and transformation. Every new day of the post-Mubarak era should be viewed as a new opportunity to reinvigorate their collective efforts to mobilize for social change.  Such organizational fortitude will enable the Egyptian people to face up to the difficult task of transforming and building a new social order.

Poverty Eradication: Barometer of True Democracy

A recent report by Egypt’s largest independent newspaper, Al-Masri al-Yawm, released information from Egyptian authorities investigating the former ministers, businessmen, and officials who were banned from traveling and whose assets were frozen. It shows that a number of former Egyptian cabinet ministers are millionaires, with Mubarak leading the flock, having assets conservatively estimated at between 40 and 70 billion Egyptian pounds (approximately 7-12 billion US dollars). All this while close to 20% of Egyptians live under the poverty line and unemployment is estimated to be as high as 30%.

This report speaks to the endemic corruption and greed that Mubarak’s regime has flaunted in the face of its struggling and poverty-stricken citizens for the past thirty years. The real challenge facing the Egyptian social movement will be not only to concern itself with free and fair elections in September, but more importantly, to build new democratic institutions that will root out endemic corruption and address the needs of the poor. I am optimistic that the rudiments of such a platform for social change exist among some young, grass-roots intellectuals in Egypt.

The Cairo School: Going beyond the State-Centered Paradigm

In the late nineties I was exposed to the innovative thinking of one such group of Egyptian intellectuals, who described themselves as the “Cairo School.” Combining the great intellectual legacy of Islam as well as the seminal work of the Italian social critic, Antonio Gramsci, the “Cairo School” argued that the pervasive power of the modern state has disempowered the masses and led to their political marginalization. Real people become a faceless electorate and mere statistics devoid of the ability to act in the modern political arena. Furthermore, the modern state has bred in individuals and groups low political ambitions and social inertia.

They thus argued that social activists needed a paradigm shift. Desperately needed, they proposed, is that citizens rid themselves of their ill-founded obsession with the state, as well as the lie that their fate lies with the state. They proposed that social activists focus their resources away from the state in the search for solutions to societal problems.

The innovative insights of the “Cairo school” resonated with my own experience in post-apartheid South Africa. Real change comes from below, not from above. It comes from civil society organizations, not from the state. These civil society organizations include trade unions, the media, educational institutions, civic bodies, youth and women’s organizations, environmental groups as well as religious institutions and organizations. Civil society is these non-government organizations, which are constituted by ordinary people and represent their interests.

The Struggle Continues after Mubarak

The “Tunisami” that inspired a huge social movement in Egypt, the Middle East, Africa, and indeed across the world cannot and must not retire. It must maintain its momentum and continue to pressure its new political leadership—and indeed world leaders in general—in order to fulfill the aspirations of all of us for a more just and humane world.

The critical question now is: Will Egyptians realize—as we South Africans learned too slowly and agonizingly—that the end of a repressive regime is not the change we have been waiting for but rather an opportunity for change?

A. Rashied Omar
A. Rashied Omar earned an M.A. and Ph.D. in religious studies from the University of Cape Town, South Africa, and an M.A. in peace studies from the University of Notre Dame’s Kroc Institute for International Peace Studies, where he is now a core faculty member. Omar’s research and teaching focus on the roots of religious violence and the potential of religion for constructive social engagement and interreligious peacebuilding. He is co-author with David Chidester et al. of Religion in Public Education: Options for a New South Africa (UCT Press, 1994), a contributor to the Oxford Handbook of Religion, Conflict and Peacebuilding (Oxford University Press, 2015), and a contributor to the Encyclopedia of Islam and the Muslim World (Macmillan Reference USA, 2016). In addition to being a university-based researcher and teacher, Omar serves as Imam (religious minister) at the Claremont Main Road Mosque in Cape Town, South Africa, and an advisory board member for Critical Investigations into Humanitarianism in Africa.
Authority, Community & Identity article

“Mooz-lum”: Faith Flourishing in Freedom

In the new film “Mooz-lum,” an American school teacher tells a Muslim pupil his name is spelled wrong because there is no “u” after the “q.”  Another little boy, relishing the chance to make fun of the kid sitting next to him, shouts, “It’s a Mooz-lum name!”

Hurdles to Faith

“Mooz-lum,” directed by Qasim Basir and produced by Peace Film, follows the life of a young Muslim American from boyhood into college. The lead character, Tariq, wrestles with spiritual meaning and faith against a backdrop of growing up with a father whose religious fanaticism left him emotionally deaf to his wife and children, subjection to abuse as a child at a religious boarding school, and the challenges of being a Muslim student on an American college campus at the time of the 9/11 attacks.

For Tariq and his younger sister, experiences such as harassment by non-Muslim kids at school are just part of day-to-day life.  Their mother watches this in anguish. Their father couldn’t care less. This film, however, is about much more than Muslims. And although public harassment of Muslims by non-Muslims is part of the film, it is anything but an “oh poor me!” story.

“Mooz-lum,” based on actual events in the life of Basir, is a movingly portrayed human story that contrasts the destructiveness of sinister behavior with the way recognition of a Creator greater than ourselves—and greater than the sinister behavior of others—can open the heart to love and forgiveness, and how these can in turn open the gates to reconciliation and healing. Along the way, the film offers an interesting window on ways religious freedom enhances individual spiritual development as well as the flourishing of faith communities.

Invitation to Muslims and Catholics, et al.

This film deserves a broad audience.  In addition to being just simply a good film, with enough power to be emotionally both crushing and uplifting, it offers some much needed building blocks for American society today to develop mutual understanding across lines of faith.

One particular new bridge this film can help construct is between Muslims and Catholic Christians. This film boldly tackles the abuse of children by adult religious leaders, a topic already excruciatingly familiar to Catholics. “Mooz-lum” could serve as an invitation for Muslims and Catholic Christians to share support as well as lessons learned about healing the wretched wounds left behind, and about preventing the continuation of the various forms of this grotesque cruelty.  (And, in addition to Catholic Christians, there may be other religious believers, too, who reach out for collaboration, since, sadly, abuse of children in religious institutions is a tragedy that crosses all confessional boundaries.)

Alongside insight into this darkness, actor Nia Long delivers a terrific performance in her portrayal of a wife trying to love her children and grow in her own relationship with God while dealing with an imperious husband, one who seems pathologically unable to open his heart to her or their children. Her performance alone makes “Mooz-lum” worth viewing—especially for anyone with an interest in female characters in film who are sharp in mind and gracefully strong in heart.

9/11, Calibrating a Response

Accompanying the primary narrative of horrific child abuse in a religious institution, “Mooz-lum” is packed with substantive subplots. One subplot is the challenge of responding to 9/11.

Here “Mooz-lum” is not fully successful. Granted, one cannot expect a single film to resolve every issue it raises. Still, I feel a nagging dissatisfaction with the way the Muslim characters in “Mooz-lum” quickly wash their hands of the 9/11 attacks by saying they did not represent “real” Islam. I can only hope that non-Muslims seeing this film will realize that other Muslims—such as the founders of the anti-extremist Muslim think tank The Quilliam Foundation—have responded to 9/11 in a far more calibrated way.  They have not only completely rejected such terrorism, as do the Muslims in “Mooz-lum,” but also frankly recognized problems they encounter within modern Muslim communities. In addition, they honestly engage fellow Muslims in order to counter extremist ideologues seeking access both to their mosques and to the hearts of their children.

There is work to do all around.  As a non-Muslim, I was appalled by the responses of non-Muslim Americans in the film toward Muslims in the aftermath of 9/11. This film is a valuable reminder, as I have written elsewhere, that there is a need for Christian intra-faith dialogue concerning Christian engagement with Muslims.

Freedom and Honesty

There is another aspect of this film that deserves more attention than it might receive. The context surrounding this story is one of a free and open society in which the government cannot privilege or endorse one religion over another and the culture encourages individuals’ meaningful engagement in matters of faith. For example, the “World Religions” professor at the college in the film, himself a Muslim, challenges his students—no matter what their backgrounds of faith or no faith—to approach the possibility of belief with rigor and critical thinking, beyond the habits of parental preference and cultural identity.

By the time Tariq enters college, he associates religious belief with the hell of child abuse. So long as that is his primary reference point for Islam, he rejects the Muslim faith in which he was raised.  Free of political, societal, or even cultural-identity coercion, freedom enables Tariq to be honest—honest with himself, his friends and family, and not least of all honest before God. Tariq recognizes that the hypocrisy of not-believing while pretending to believe is not an honest option.

And yet it is precisely in grappling directly and honestly with the option of not-believing that Tariq comes to the realization that no matter how hellish his childhood experiences were, God is greater than all of it. Freedom offers Tariq a way to engage in the deepest questions of, “Is this true?,” and respond, ultimately, not in robotic conformity with parental wishes or cultural pressure, but rather out of profound personal conviction and in accordance with his own conscience.

After the screening of “Mooz-lum” I attended near Philadelphia, director and writer Qasim Basir spoke with the audience.  Basir explained that he crashed in 2002, reaching a low point as he completed a degree in criminology, after a life that included some version of the challenges dramatized in the film. It was at that point, explained Basir, that he put his life in God’s hands and made a commitment “to live my life with purpose, to try to make a difference while I’m here.” With neither funding nor formal training in film—just a hobbyist’s experience and a will determined to find a way—he set out to make “Mooz-lum.”

In Basir’s discussion of his Muslim faith and its role in his life today, I was struck by a sense of honesty and deep conviction. Moreover, in the context of the political and religious freedom that characterizes our society, Basir has tackled a topic all too often treated as politically taboo by governments that manipulate religious institutions for political gain, and as religiously taboo by some religious leaders who in other contexts may have subjected Basir to exile or worse for his telling of almost unbearably ugly truths.

In the end, however, human flourishing triumphs. Basir, and the film-portrayal of him as Tariq, grow in genuine faith and in passion to encounter and respond to their Creator. And I expect also that this film, made possible by the openness of a free society, will foster the flourishing of religious communities, Muslim and otherwise. In exposing child abuse by religious authorities, and the possibility of responding to this by inviting God’s forgiveness and love into broken human lives, “Mooz-lum” can help pioneer a path toward the redress and prevention of such abuse. As Catholics have been learning in recent years, confronting internal evil in a faith community, no matter how hard the process, is the only way for a religious community to flourish most honestly—and thus richly—before God. And given how excruciating the process is, perhaps Muslims and Catholics can lighten each other’s loads by helping each other along the way.

Jennifer Bryson
Jennifer S. Bryson is a Visiting Fellow at the Hudson Institute in Washington, DC. from 2009-2014 she served as Director of the Islam and Civil Society Project at The Witherspoon Institute in Princeton, New Jersey. She studied Political Science as an undergraduate at Stanford, medieval European intellectual history for an M.A. in History at Yale, and Greco-Arabic and Islamic studies for a Ph.D. in Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations, also at Yale.
Global Currents article

Let Fundamental Reforms Bring a New, Peaceful Egypt

Attacks on Demonstrators Merit the Strongest Condemnation

It is with a heavy heart that I have watched the events of the past few days unfold. Violence is always regrettable, but to watch my own country deteriorate into virtual chaos is a cause of unimaginable grief and sadness, and the recent attacks against demonstrators are worthy of the strongest condemnation. The land of Egypt is dear not only to me, and to its 80 million citizens, but indeed to the whole world for its fundamental and substantial contributions to human civilization for over seven millennia. To see it in such a state of chaos is truly heart-wrenching.

There is, however, reason for hope and optimism. As the Qur’an teaches us, “With every difficulty, there comes ease.” It is with great national pride that I affirm my confidence and trust in the Egyptian people that they will refrain from violence and aggression and to return to peace and calm. At that point, our nation will have the capacity to engage in some profound introspection and soul-searching to make sense of the new state of affairs.

Until then, however, the lives and welfare of our countrymen—regardless of their political beliefs—must be our first priority. Security must be ensured, the rule of law must be respected, and people’s basic needs must be met.  These considerations must take precedence in such a time of crisis. I salute those who have demonstrated immense courage in protecting their families and their neighborhoods in the face of indiscriminate looting.

Fundamental Reforms Are Needed—Right Now

There is no denying that we are on the edge of a new period of Egyptian political and social life. The youth of our nation have organized en masse to raise their demands and make their voices heard, hoping for change. They have demonstrated great resolve in their pursuit of fundamental reforms, and indeed reform is a necessity. Indeed, I have long called—through the Misr El Kheir Foundation—for comprehensive reforms in economics, health, and social solidarity. This foundation supports educational efforts, scientific and medical research, and environmental initiatives by drawing on the expertise of the business community to channel funds towards the needy and vulnerable in Egypt.

I add my voice to calls to engage in dialogue, and urge that the time has now come to translate all of these calls into tangible results. Practical steps must be undertaken to ensure an immediate and direct implementation of serious reform measures.

The current situation we are living in is unprecedented—lives have been lost, people have been injured, homes and businesses have been looted. It is unacceptable that our fellow citizens should be subjected to such danger. It should be the demand of every citizen that those who have perpetrated such violence be brought to full justice for their crimes.

Egypt is Much More Than Its President

Egypt must rise united and triumphant after this period of crisis. Egypt is much more than its presidential figure. It is a nation of richness, culture, and sincerity, and its contributions and history speak for themselves. It is a nation made by its people; genuine and dedicated. It is a country of crucial political importance to the region, and it is in the interest of all involved in the international community to do their utmost to help its people ensure its stability and prosperity. I reiterate my confidence in the Egyptian people to work with them towards this ultimate goal.

Shaykh Ali Gomaa
Shaykh Ali Gomaa was Grand Mufti of Egypt from 2003-2013. One of the most respected jurists in the Sunni Muslim world, he headed the Dar al Ifta, which issues thousands of fatwas per week.
Global Currents article

North African Islamists Are Stronger Than They Look

Although everyone by now has traced a narrative arc from Tunisia to the momentous events in Egypt, eyes darted first to Algeria. In the days surrounding the collapse of Tunisian President Ben Ali’s government, many wondered about the stability of the government in Algiers. After all, protests had proliferated throughout the last year as black market prices on basic goods inflated, and general apathy about Algerian President Bouteflika turned to anger. Algeria is next to Tunisia and, in fact, some Algerian political opposition forces are currently attempting to rally around the present moment of political openness—a moment fraught with all the more potential because of the unfolding situation in Egypt.

As analysts drew comparisons between Ben Ali and Bouteflika, and Tunisia and Algeria, however, they were quick to focus on the differences: Tunisia is relatively secular, it has a strong relationship with the West, and its Islamist forces are generally moderate and marginalized. Often implicit in this comparison is a claim that democracy might have a chance to emerge from Tunisia’s political crisis because Tunisia has secular opposition forces who could take on the mantle of electoral power and form a government. Many decline to make the same claims about Algeria—thanks to its recent history with more radical versions of Islamism, from the political rhetoric of the FIS (Islamic Salvation Front) to the terrorism of the GIA (Armed Islamic Group), GSPC (Salafist Group for Call and Combat) and, now, Al-Qaeda in the Maghreb.

There is little question that the political landscape of Tunisia looks quite different from that of Algeria with respect to the place of political Islam.

But I offer two reflections on the political potential of Islamism in Tunisia, Algeria, and North Africa in general that go a long way toward qualifying this simplistic contrast.

Lessons from Algeria

In October of 1988, Western observers were stunned when Islamist politicians became the face of a popular uprising in Algeria that had begun with youth protests. In fact, some pinpoint a hike in university cafeteria prices as the initial trigger. Why were they surprised? Well, because Algeria appeared to be such a left-leaning, secular Arab country—very similar to what is said about Tunisia today.

Tunisian Islamists may not look like much of a force now. In some ways, Islamists are not a dominant political movement. What is more, the staid Rached Ghannouchi, the face of Tunisian Islamism, is no Ali Belhadj or Abassi Madani, the fiery and ambitious duo who led the FIS to electoral triumph in Algeria in the late 1980s.

But the lesson of Algeria is that a political landscape can shift quickly. As far as Tunisian opposition forces go, Islamists remain important. What is more, their proximity to the religious infrastructure in Tunisia gives them access to an enormous mobilizing potential. In some ways, this potential was a critical ingredient in the capacity of the FIS to catapult itself to political prominence in Algeria in 1988.

Consider, also, that the geopolitics of Islamism have changed in important ways over the last twenty years. Most importantly, North African Islamists no longer possess the powerful glean of a pure and untested social movement. While they were banned in Tunisia, Islamist political parties in Algeria have become more moderate, institutionalized and politically weak throughout their last fifteen years of electoral participation.

A (Gradual) Islamist Comeback in North Africa?

Although this means that North African Islamists may be incapable of generating the same political charge that the FIS did in 1988, they are nowhere near political collapse—in part because Arab governments have not given them the chance to fail. In this respect, even as they have engaged in different political strategies of compromise with the political system, both of Algeria’s principal Islamist parties, MSP-HAMAS and Islah, have learned a lot from their experience with Algerian elections. They have formed parliamentary relationships with other legitimate, non-religious political parties, have coherent political agendas, and continue to nurture a real political base. In a 2009 presidential poll by a popular Arabic newspaper, for example, Abdallah Djaballah, the leading figure of Algeria’s Islah political party, received more online votes than President Bouteflika—or any other national Algerian figure, for that matter.

From a certain angle, and despite their weak popular support, Algerian Islamists are in a better political position now than they were twenty years ago. They are placed to work with other democratic opposition forces and, at least in the interim, form a new and more democratic government to replace Bouteflika. In 1988, many Algerians believed that a multiparty Algerian democracy that included both secular and Islamist parties was impossible and would inevitably lead to civil conflict. Given the experience of Islamist political participation in Algeria, such an inclusive democracy, if still difficult, now seems much less far-fetched and adds credibility to Rached Ghannouchi’s claim that he fully supports multiparty democracy in Tunisia.

It is clear that Islamists have not been central to the “Jasmine Revolutions” that have swept across Tunisia and now Egypt. But we should expect them to play a significant role in their resolution, even in “secular” Tunisia. The great potential for a long-term Islamist presence throughout North Africa makes the political endgame in Egypt and the evolving relationship between youth leaders, the Muslim Brotherhood, and the rest of the opposition all the more important to watch.

Michael Driessen
Michael Driessen is Assistant Professor of Political Science and International Affairs at John Cabot University in Rome, Italy. He teaches courses on Religion and Politics and co-direct the University’s Interfaith Initiative. His research interests include the nature of public religions in Catholic and Muslim societies and the role of interreligious dialogue in contemporary global politics.
Authority, Community & Identity article

A Muslim-Catholic Cold War?

 

Al-Azhar University in Egypt is sometimes called “the Vatican” of the Sunni Muslim world. On January 20th, it was reported (here and here) that al-Azhar formally suspended its long-standing dialogue with the Catholic Church in protest over Pope Benedict XVI’s recent insistence on “more effective” protection for Egypt’s Coptic Christians. The Pope’s remarks followed a New Year’s bombing of a Coptic Church in Alexandria that killed 21 people and drew fresh attention to Christian-Muslim relations in Egypt as well as elsewhere in the Arab world.

 

 

 

Al-Azhar is close to the Egyptian government, and it is undeniable that its actions closely track the writ of the state: it suspended its dialogue with the Vatican shortly after Egypt recalled its ambassador to the Holy See to protest what it called papal “interference” in the country’s affairs.

Still, the severance of ties may be ominous for relations between the world’s two largest religious communities. As distinguished Vatican correspondent John Allen commented on January 20th, “The chill in relations between Egypt and the Vatican could have broad implications for Catholic/Muslim relations. As recently as late November, for example, the country’s state-appointed Grand Mufti, Sheikh Ali Gomaa, was a featured speaker at the New York launch of a major research project at Notre Dame titled ‘Contending Modernities.'” (As it happens, Gomaa condemned the Alexandria bombings on the Contending Modernities Blog on January 5th, before the Pope’s speech and al-Azhar’s suspension of dialogue with the Vatican.)

 

 

 

 

 

Given the goal of precisely this project—Contending Modernities—to understand and advance the conversation between Catholic, Muslim, and secular forms of modernity, it is crucial for us to explore: What does the suspension mean? Where do Catholic-Muslim relations go from here? We asked a wide range of distinguished observers—Muslim and Catholic—to address these questions. Three outstanding experts on Muslim-Christian relations—A. Rashied Omar, Jennifer S. Bryson, and Daniel Madigan, S.J.—have begun the conversation.

Timothy Samuel Shah
Timothy Samuel Shah is Editor of the Contending Modernities Blog. He is Associate Director and Scholar in Residence of the Religious Freedom Project at Georgetown University’s Berkley Center for Religion, Peace and World Affairs and Adjunct Research Professor with Notre Dame's Kroc Institute. With Monica Duffy Toft and Daniel Philpott, he is co-author of God's Century: Resurgent Religion and Global Politics.
Authority, Community & Identity article

A Blessing for Muslim-Catholic Dialogue

The recent decision by the Islamic university al-Azhar in Egypt to freeze its participation in inter-faith dialogue with the Vatican may do more to advance Catholic-Muslim dialogue than the al-Azhar/Vatican partnership could ever have achieved.

Diverse Muslim Modernities

Al-Azhar University has been a major institution of learning in Sunni Islam for more than 1,000 years.  However, over the centuries and especially in recent decades, new centers of intellectual influence—from Melbourne, Australia, to Xian, China to Berkeley, California—have been emerging in Sunni Islam.

Modernization and globalization have accelerated this trend, enabling the rapid movement of ideas and arguments in Muslim intra-faith dialogue across geographic boundaries. Gradually, a search for truth is beginning to trump geography or ethnic identity in intra-Muslim debates.  All the while al-Azhar has been busy allowing itself to become a political pawn of Egypt’s authoritarian regime under Hosni Mubarak. Furthermore, in its scramble for funding, the university has also allowed Saudi influence to wax just when the world—not least of all Muslims themselves—need it to wane.

More significantly, from a doctrinal perspective, al-Azhar does not hold a special status in Islam akin to that of the Vatican in Roman Catholicism. Sunni Islam, the sect of about 85% of Muslims in the world, does not have an inherent, divinely established clerical hierarchy.

Granted, there is an important role in Sunni Islam for religious scholars (ulema), but even the extent to which al-Azhar embodies and represents “the ulema” is debatable.  As just one example, at an Islamic studies conference I attended some years ago, the scholars from Turkey simply ran circles around the Azahris in attendance, who were all Egyptians. The gap between the Turks’ theological erudition and critical thinking versus the quaintness (to put it charitably) of the Azharis was jarring.

The Vatican and al-Azhar were a mismatched pairing to start with. Apples and oranges.

As Mubarak Goes, so Goes Al-Azhar…

And lest one doubt that al-Azhar has become a tool of the Mubarak dictatorship, the political dimensions of the recent al-Azhar withdrawal from talks with the Vatican do not lurk far beneath the surface.

Every indication so far is that the New Year’s church bombing in Alexandria was a targeted, entirely intentional murder of Christians by a fanatical Islamist.  Even if this were an isolated incident in the Middle East and Africa (which it is not, and the Pope also mentioned Iraq and Nigeria in his recent statements), expressing concern for the safety—and even the continued existence—of indigenous Christian populations hardly seems shocking or offensive.

And yet the Egyptian government called the Pope’s January 10th remarks concerning these recent attacks on Christians “unacceptable interference in its internal affairs” and recalled the Egyptian Ambassador to the Vatican the next day. Al-Azhar followed in lock-step by suspending its inter-faith talks with the Vatican.

Opportunity Knocks

The broader implication of al-Azhar’s suspension is that it could open new opportunities for a broader variety of Sunnis—almost as diverse in theology as in geography and culture—to play a more active role in inter-faith engagement with Catholic Christians. Moreover, such a shift could draw much-needed attention to the inherently dispersed nature of power in Sunni Islam.

For too many decades now, modern Arab dictatorships have maneuvered to centralize religious authority in Sunni Islam under the sway of their political power so that they can better control and exploit it.

The Tunisians have said, “No more!” to their political dictator, and gradually we are seeing Sunni Muslims throughout the world—including some deep in erudition and rich in spirit—rise up to displace al-Azhar’s Arab-centric, politicized domination of Sunni Muslim discourse.

Al-Azhar has done the Vatican a favor by freeing the Vatican to pursue Catholic-Muslim dialogue across this multi-faceted mosaic of Sunni Islam.

Sunni Islam’s Contending Modernities

The reality of Sunni Islam is diverse.  Outside of al-Azhar, this diversity includes advocates of critical thinking, the dignity of men and women, vigorous public engagement, and peaceful pluralism such as:

  • Egyptian Abdul Kareem Nabeel Suleiman (a.k.a. Kareem Amer), a former al-Azhar student, who was expelled from al-Azhar and then imprisoned by the government of Egypt for blogging that, in his experience, fundamentalism pervaded the discourse at al-Azhar.
  • Muslim women leading Friday prayers for women, in particular among the Hui ethnic minority in China. These Hui Muslim women have been doing this for centuries.
  • Young activists, many Muslim, in Pakistan who founded and have been leading the “War Against Rape” movement seeking justice and social well-being for all in a society in which women are often at a sexual and legal disadvantage; such independent civil society movements have been bolder than al-Azhar in addressing controversial social topics.
  • The International Islamic University of Malaysia, which has a genuinely international faculty (not Arab-centric), where female students and faculty are not relegated to a distant, separate campus (as they are at al-Azhar) and where scholars and students enjoy generally greater freedom of religion and freedom of speech than in Egypt.
  • Scholar Abdullah Saeed, who has written an important study of Muslim support for religious freedom in core Islamic religious texts and has become an advocate of religious freedom for minorities in Muslim-majority areas, Muslim minorities in non-Muslim areas, and not least of all for Muslims in Muslim-majority areas.

Al-Azhar ≠ Sunni Islam

The BBC described the bi-annual al-Azhar/Vatican talks as “designed to improve understanding between Sunni Islam and the Roman Catholic Church.” This is a worthy objective. Yet, apparently seeking an easy way forward, the Vatican looked for a single button to push and established ties with al-Azhar as its formal partner with “Sunni Islam.”

Al-Azhar is not the same thing as “Sunni Islam,” nor, again, does it enjoy any privileged hierarchical authority in Sunni Islam on par with the role of the Vatican in the Roman Catholic Church.

European governments, such as in Germany, have been accustomed to having the vast majority of Christians in their countries represented by formal, hierarchically structured organizations. And they have in turn—erroneously—sought to find a single institutional equivalent representing Muslims in their countries. The result is that they have granted too much credibility to self-appointed Muslim representatives who are in actuality part of a dispersed, multi-faceted religious community.

Broader Dialogue = Better Dialogue

The al-Azhar initiated dialogue freeze now allows the Vatican to pursue a broader strategy: engagement with Sunni (and other) Muslims on multiple fronts simultaneously rather than with a single, inappropriately matched partner. This opens the way for engagement with the authentic plurality of Sunni Islam—particularly with modernizing Muslims who have been shunned by al-Azhar. And this may provide new opportunities for the voices of these Muslim advocates of peaceful pluralism to be heard.

Such dispersed, multi-faceted engagement with Sunni Muslims also opens new avenues for enriched engagement at local levels, which are often the most suitable for the type of relationally-centered, inter-faith engagement that can be most powerful and transformative.

What will inter-faith dialogue between the hierarchical Roman Catholic Church and the dispersed, diverse realm of Sunni Islam look like?  That’s hard to predict.  What is clear, however, is the dire need for engagement between these millions and millions of Roman Catholic and Sunni Muslim believers that does not come in the form of more bombings, carnage, and mutual antagonism and misunderstanding.  Courage to explore new models for building understanding between Roman Catholic Christians and Sunni Muslims is needed.  And thanks to al-Azhar’s self-imposed boycott of the Vatican, a door through which such courage can pass and go on to bear fruit has been opened.

Jennifer S. Bryson is Director of the Islam and Civil Society Project at The Witherspoon Institute in Princeton, New Jersey. She studied Political Science as an undergraduate at Stanford, medieval European intellectual history for an M.A. in History at Yale, and Greco-Arabic and Islamic studies for a Ph.D. in Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations, also at Yale.

Jennifer Bryson
Jennifer S. Bryson is a Visiting Fellow at the Hudson Institute in Washington, DC. from 2009-2014 she served as Director of the Islam and Civil Society Project at The Witherspoon Institute in Princeton, New Jersey. She studied Political Science as an undergraduate at Stanford, medieval European intellectual history for an M.A. in History at Yale, and Greco-Arabic and Islamic studies for a Ph.D. in Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations, also at Yale.
Authority, Community & Identity article

Al-Azhar Should Resume—and Widen—Its Vatican Dialogue

Al-Azhar’s suspension of dialogue with the Vatican raises three interrelated questions for interreligious peacebuilders. First, is Pope Benedict XVI’s policy on Islam prudent given the volatile post-9/11 world we live in? Second, does the Pope’s diplomacy with Muslims require more nuance? Third, is al-Azhar University over-reacting in its response to Benedict’s remarks?

Pope Benedict’s Relationship with the Muslim World

Since the beginning of his papacy in April 2005, His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI has been unequivocal in advocating a more hard-line policy towards Muslims than that of his predecessor, the late Pope John Paul II. His removal of Archbishop Michael Fitzgerald as president of the Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue (PCID) was viewed by many observers as the first clear indication of this new assertive policy. During the sermon he preached at the inauguration of his pontificate, Benedict explicitly named the Jewish people as those with whom to seek dialogue, while referring to other believers in only general terms. Some Muslims concluded that dialogue with Muslims was low on the papal agenda. Just over a year later, in September 2006, Pope Benedict XVI delivered his infamous Regensburg lecture, offering debatable theological reasons for Islam’s alleged propensity to violence. His assertions outraged the Muslim world and generated demands that he apologize and retract his remarks.

All of the above has not endeared Pope Benedict XVI to the Muslim world. In particular, it has clearly hampered what must be acknowledged is his courageous witness for full religious freedom and protection for Christian minorities living in Muslim-majority countries.

As the grand imam of al-Azhar University, Shaykh El-Tayeb, suggests in his January 20th statement explaining the suspension of ties with the Vatican, Muslims perceive Pope Benedict to be mute on the daily violence and killing of innocent Muslims in Iraq and Palestine by American and Israeli forces, leaving a blurred impression that Islam and Muslims are to blame for violence everywhere. In this connection, it appears that the Egyptian government interpreted Pope Benedict’s general appeal to all Middle Eastern governments to do more to assure the safety of their Christian citizens as equating the situation in Egypt to that of Iraq—an equation it apparently found offensive. Furthermore, the Pope’s statements seem to have shown little awareness that Christians were targeted in churches in Baghdad and Egypt in the aftermath of the American-led invasion of Iraq against international law, and as a reaction to Western support for what many believe have been Israeli crimes against humanity in the West Bank and Gaza.

It is unfortunate also that Pope Benedict did not acknowledge the unequivocal condemnation of the Church bombings that came from many diverse voices within the Muslim world, including from the Grand Mufti of Egypt, Shaykh Ali Gomaa. Benedict could have applauded the wonderful example of droves of Egyptian Muslims who attended Coptic Christmas services on January 7th to serve as “human shields” in order to protect their Christian fellow citizens.

With acknowledgments such as these, the Pope would have been in a stronger position to call on governments in the Middle East to refuse to allow the sectarian agenda of a terrorist minority to be fulfilled. He could have urged that they seize this tragic moment as an opportunity to affirm the full dignity and religious freedom of Christians and all other religious minorities in Egypt and elsewhere in the Muslim world. Such an approach might well have prompted a less antagonistic response from the Egyptians.

Al-Azhar’s Short-Sighted Response

And yet, rather than freezing dialogue, al-Azhar should have called for more dialogue on Christian-Muslim relations.

However injudicious his portrayal of Islam may be, Pope Benedict’s persistent highlighting of the plight of Christian minorities in Muslim-majority settings should be welcomed by Muslims as an opportunity for dialogue and engagement on a contentious but highly significant issue. The religious freedom and well-being of Christian minorities represent Islamic duties of such seriousness that Muslims should constantly strive to fulfill them. This noble Islamic emphasis was most eloquently articulated in Shaykh Ali Gomaa’s statement condemning the Alexandria bombing. He argued that “[t]he Prophet considered non-Muslims and Muslims as participating in a social contract which was inviolable. The promise of a Muslim is sacrosanct, for as [the Prophet] said, ‘Whoever unjustly persecutes one with whom he has an agreement, or short-changes his rights, or burdens him beyond his capacity, or takes something from him without his blessing, I myself will be an argument against him on the Day of Judgment.’”

Interreligious dialogue concerning the position of Christian minorities within Muslim-majority societies thus affords a welcome opportunity for Muslim self-reflection and renewal.

However, such a dialogue should not be restricted to the lack of religious freedom and full citizenship for Christian minorities in the Middle East. It must move on to address other contentious issues such as, for example, the Vatican’s ambivalent position on Kairos Palestine, a theological statement endorsed by almost all the leaders of Christian Churches in Palestine. This document describes itself as “a word of faith, hope and love from the heart of the Palestinian suffering,” and I firmly believe it is destined to become a watershed moment in the history of the Palestinian struggle against the tyranny of Israeli oppression.

The Egyptian political elite have become extremely sensitive to reactions against the Alexandria attacks and have taken umbrage at Pope Benedict’s calls on Middle Eastern governments as well as he governments of other majority-Muslim societies to do more to protect their Christian monitories. Al-Azhar University is a state-funded body, and it has been largely co-opted by the Egyptian government (perhaps against its better judgment), frequently coming out in support of a state that does not respond too well to public criticism.

Here resides one of the major crises of the established Muslim religious leadership in many Muslim-majority countries, such as Egypt and Saudi Arabia. The ulema or Muslim religious scholars have abandoned their role as the moral conscience of their societies by not speaking out more coherently on the human rights violations and injustices that permeate their societies. Many of them, while speaking out against certain forms of injustices against Muslims, are providing religious legitimacy to despotic and oppressive regimes. Moreover, non-violent, civil-resistance campaigns are not tolerated in most Muslim countries, and outspoken religious leaders are either incarcerated or exiled.

Together, Let Us Repair Our Fragile World

Perhaps most importantly, in its overreaction to Pope Benedict’s recent remarks, al-Azhar has inadvertently played into the hands of extremists whose goal is create and exacerbate belligerence between Muslims and Christians.

As one of the foremost Catholic experts on Islam, Archbishop Michael Fitzgerald, so correctly reminds us, we live in a fragile world that some believe is on the precipice of a catastrophe. In such a lethal environment, when what is at stake is no less than the sanctity of human life, what is the role of credible religious leaders? Archbishop Fitzgerald provides sage advice within this volatile context when he calls on religious leaders to act judiciously and with great circumspection. Lamentably, Fitzgerald’s wise counsel has been dispensed with under the papacy of Benedict XVI, and his compelling message has been disregarded with adverse consequences for Christian-Muslim relations. The latest breakdown in relations between al-Azhar and the Vatican is yet another clear case in point.

Christian and Muslim leaders should not allow themselves to be distracted from the task of building bridges of honesty, truth, and trust through a meaningful mutual dialogue.  Muslim leaders have an especially onerous challenge of condemning overreactions and of not allowing misguided individuals who act in a thoroughly reprehensible and depraved way to sully the name of Islam.

Despite our current predicament, I am hopeful that Catholics and Muslims will weather this latest hiccup in their relationship—thanks in large part to the strong bridges that were built between our two communities by the late Pope John Paul II. These strong and firm links will, I trust, help Catholics and Muslims brave the aftermath of this regrettable episode.

A. Rashied Omar
A. Rashied Omar earned an M.A. and Ph.D. in religious studies from the University of Cape Town, South Africa, and an M.A. in peace studies from the University of Notre Dame’s Kroc Institute for International Peace Studies, where he is now a core faculty member. Omar’s research and teaching focus on the roots of religious violence and the potential of religion for constructive social engagement and interreligious peacebuilding. He is co-author with David Chidester et al. of Religion in Public Education: Options for a New South Africa (UCT Press, 1994), a contributor to the Oxford Handbook of Religion, Conflict and Peacebuilding (Oxford University Press, 2015), and a contributor to the Encyclopedia of Islam and the Muslim World (Macmillan Reference USA, 2016). In addition to being a university-based researcher and teacher, Omar serves as Imam (religious minister) at the Claremont Main Road Mosque in Cape Town, South Africa, and an advisory board member for Critical Investigations into Humanitarianism in Africa.
Authority, Community & Identity article

Time for dialogue to get real

Déjà Vu Not Quite All over Again

Not for the first time has al-Azhar University shown itself very attentive to what popes have to say. In February 2003, as George W. Bush and his “coalition of the willing” were banging the drums of war, millions of demonstrators took to the streets of the world’s capitals to denounce the very idea of an attack. At that awkward moment, the annual Vatican-al-Azhar dialogue met in Cairo. Our delegation included the then Nunzio (Vatican Ambassador) to Egypt as well as the President of the Vatican’s Council for Interreligious Dialogue, Michael Fitzgerald—who just a few years later would be surprised to find himself removed from his post and sent to become Nunzio to Egypt.

When we arrived at our meeting, we were impressed to find that our partners from al-Azhar were better informed than we were of Pope John Paul’s latest pronouncement that morning against the Bush doctrine of pre-emptive war. They were enormously grateful that the authoritative moral voice of the papacy had been so clearly raised against what even then seemed (and has since proven itself to be) a reckless and even immoral military adventure.

We found ourselves in that dialogue shoulder to shoulder against the hideous prospect of fruitless and destructive violence, and the day culminated in a wonderful evening at the home of al-Azhar’s Sheikh Fauzi Zafzaf, swamped by his many grandchildren. These tend to be the best kinds of dialogue—shoulder to shoulder in the face of a common problem, rather than in a face-off with one another.

No one at al-Azhar at that time was worried that a forthright papal call to governments to live up to their responsibilities might constitute an intolerable interference with their sovereign autonomy. Yet now Pope Benedict’s measured appeal to Middle-Eastern governments to do more to assure the safety of their Christian minority citizens has been taken as a major affront to Egypt, and as the occasion to break off dialogue indefinitely.

Real Dialogue Must—and Will—Go On

Of course, this has more to do with politics and national pride than with interreligious dialogue. Al-Azhar is often forced to function as an organ of the Egyptian state. I doubt that this freeze has any real significance for the future of Muslim-Christian dialogue, very little of which actually takes place in highly formalized situations like that one. Real dialogue is more sustained, less official and tends to be more local. Because of this, the real gains made in dialogue—particularly the trusting relationships established over the last 50 years—will survive the fluky winds of international diplomacy and the occasional papal misstep.

Though he has a mixed track record in relations with Muslims, and Regensburg has not been entirely forgotten, Pope Benedict’s call for greater protection for minorities was no misstep. The Grand Mufti of Egypt, Sheikh Ali Gomaa, writing on this blog on January 5th, himself said, “There is no doubt that such barbarism needs to be denounced in the strongest of terms, and opposed at every turn.” He characterized the extremism that had been demonstrated in the attack on the Copts as a “disease,” and he is right. At the same time, it should be noted that thousands of Egyptian Muslims turned out as “human shields” to protect Copts as they celebrated their Christmas on January 7th.

The difficulty is that both parties to our dialogue have for too long found it easier to denounce the faults of others than to acknowledge our own.

This incident makes clear exactly where dialogue needs to be headed. We have to move beyond the polite mutual examination of our highest ideals—which we do all the while quietly fuming about the failures of the other to live up to them. The Vatican-Azhar dialogue has several times over the years noted the need for self-criticism. Now is the time to try to find the courage to acknowledge to each other that throughout our histories, and even today, we are better at talking about love, justice, forgiveness, peace and equality, than we are at putting them into practice.

Daniel Madigan, S.J.
Daniel Madigan is Jeanette W. and Otto J. Ruesch Family Associate Professor and Director of Graduate Studies in the Department of Theology, Georgetown University. He is also a Senior Fellow of the Woodstock Theological Center and the Al-Waleed Center for Muslim-Christian Understanding, both at Georgetown.