Egypt’s
political scene changed fundamentally in the second half of the 1990s. The
murder of tourists in Luxor in 1997 led, paradoxically, to the end of
violence by Islamist groups. The "young generation" of Islamists (al-jil
al-jadid) went over to the principles of liberal democracy that were the
basis for the programs of all the parties that tried to set themselves up
under the banner of religion: Al-Wasat (the Center), Al-Islah (Reform) and
Al-Shariah (Religious Law).
The
Muslim Brothers, the most important of the Islamist organizations, which
have been simultaneously repressed and tolerated, are making pacts with
their former devils: they have forged alliances with the secular leftwing
Tagammu Party during campaigns of solidarity with Palestine, and on February
27, 2003 with the ruling National Democratic Party of President Hosni
Mubarak in the great rally at the Cairo stadium against United States’
intervention in Iraq.
Between
Official and Political Islam
The
competition between official and political Islam, which shaped the dynamics
of Islamization in Egypt over the past 25 years, was undermined by these
changes. The protagonists in this cold war have been disqualified: Al-Azhar,
the heart of official Islam, is under fire for its compromises with the
regime; among the young in Cairo its ulama (scholars) are seen as out of
date, living in an ivory tower. In political Islam the Muslim Brothers,
tarnished by links, more supposed than real, with the violence that has
shaken Egypt, have lost the aura they had in the 1980s. And the radical
groups have either disappeared or retreated to the margins of the Muslim
world (for example, the faction of the Jihad group outside Egypt, under Dr.
Ayman Zawahiri, allied itself with Osama bin Laden).
New
religious players have appeared: charismatic preachers with a style similar
to American televangelists; performing artists who have
"re-Islamized" themselves; middle-class women who have set up as
preachers and invented a new tradition, the Islamic salon, now a feature of
middle-class life; musical preaching groups; and highly educated
"independent" Islamists.
These
people have four things in common: almost all come from secular parts of the
educational establishment and have acquired their knowledge of religion by
themselves; they are young, from privileged backgrounds and socially
integrated; they are trying to combine the characteristic teachings of
different cultural models with Islam, which then loses its centrality; and
they claim to have broken both with official and political Islam. But the
values of this trend are far from revolutionary. Instead they are the
disenchanted, here-now gone-tomorrow yuppie values: hedonism, individual
ease, and consumption. We are moving away from the era of politics.
Hijab
and Fashion Business
The
issue of the Islamic headscarf—the hijab that was the symbol of the
Islamic awakening of the 1970s—has now become emblematic. It no longer
signals rejection of the West as it did then, but instead signifies a
non-Islamist way of being Muslim: the end of an obsession with identity and
an expression of the realities of globalization, market reform, and
consumerism.
The
hijab has been reappropriated by the fashion business, although it is still
sometimes sold outside mosques. In boutiques that cater for women who veil,
the hijab is now designed to the standards of international fashion. The
shops have English or French names: Al-Muhajabah Home, Al-Salam Shopping
Center, Flash, L’Amour. All far from the identity program of the Islamists
or the ethics of modesty. These "liberal veiled women" (al-muhajabbah
al-mutaharrirah) have exhausted the patience of fundamentalists by
wearing Paris-designed scarves and speaking to their children in English.
They are condemned both by the activists of the Muslim Brothers and
traditional preachers trying to invoke the omniscience of God.
Nashid:
A Broader Scope
Similarly,
the nashid (religious chant) has been ideologically deprogrammed and
adjusted to globalization. The old custom of chanting, inherited from the
Sufis, was taken up in the 1970s by Islamist groups on university campuses,
who were inspired by the writings of the many Islamist militants then in
prison, with their references to jihad, martyrdom, and heroism, and their
condemnation of the arbitrariness of government. For a decade it was all
politics—just as it was for the headscarf when it first appeared on the
campus. The words of the chants were militant and criticized the state, and
there were no musical instruments, which were deemed illegal. Later,
influenced by the Islamic-nationalist music of the first Palestinian
Intifada (1988-91), the nashid was musically accompanied, first by
tambourines, then drums, then synthesizers.
At
the end of the 1980s two performing groups were formed and were sought after
in Islamist circles to play at the "Islamic marriages" that
started a new fashion. The themes of the nashid were modified, and
love, happiness, and poetry appeared. This was partly to suit the less
activist younger generation, but also because militant slogans did not fit
the formalities of Egyptian marriage ceremonies. In the later 1990s the
groups became more professional, widened their range of instruments, began
to charge for performances, and sold audio-cassettes. In 1990 there were
just two groups: now there are about 50. They have left jihad and its
repertoire behind, and compete with Egyptian pop stars—and like those
stars, they waver between a romantic mood and bursts of nationalism alluding
to Palestine and Iraq. Nashid groups have less religious names than
before—Al-Wa`d (Promise) or Al-Gil (Generation) are now common; their
music continues to fuse with non-Arab rhythms, Anglo-Saxon pop, jazz, and
rap.
Super-Cool
Preaching
|
|
|
Amr
Khalid, 36, the 'super cool' preacher
|
This
entry, both with the hijab and the nashid, into consumerism and
syncretism with non-Arab models, has led to an implicit questioning of the
old puritanism of the 1970s and 1980s—and above all a questioning of the
principle of the ideologization of religion. The change is important: we
could trace similar patterns in the Islamic economy, increasingly affected
by the ups and downs of international finance; or in Islamic charity, which
has been rethought, within a framework of neoliberalism, as a security net
to replace the state’s withdrawal from this area (a withdrawal the
Islamists have widely supported).
Among
a section of the religious middle classes this change resembles the familiar
Western New Age religiosity in the way it borrows from other cultures (such
as Asian spirituality). Magda Amer, a young, middle-class woman preacher
from Cairo, is keen on chakras,1
yoga, reflexology, and
macrobiotic food. Her courses on Islam and alternative medicine attract
well-heeled women who attend the Abu Bakr Al-Siddiq Mosque in the affluent
suburb of Heliopolis where she preaches.
Amr
Khaled, 36, from a solid middle-class background, has taken this change to
the limit with his super-cool preaching, which invokes the Protestant work
ethic and self-awareness. In just four years he has become the most popular
preacher in the Arab world and beyond. The secret of his success was that he
positioned himself outside the rivalry between political and official Islam,
by offering a religious product compatible with the modern expectations of
the urban middle classes: a worldly religion that talks about inner peace
and spiritual well-being, and rejects religious observance in which rite is
an end in itself. It refuses to see Allah as a God of retribution.
Khaled
does not want to look like a traditional sheikh; he prefers to be
close-shaven rather than bearded; wears a suit and tie, not a white galabiyya;
speaks Egyptian dialect, not classical Arabic. He has broken with the
classic Salafi style of preaching, adopting a softer style in which God is
love.
Copying
the style of the US televangelists, he was the first to bring a religious
chat show to the Arab world—a formula quickly taken up by all who call
themselves the "new preachers" (including Khaled Al-Guindy,
Al-Habib Ali and Safwat Hegazy). His main message is that we must
"reconcile religion and life." Observance does not mean sacrifice
but small adjustments; being religious does not mean giving up the pleasures
of life. That is why he likes to be photographed wearing a football shirt
and with a soccer star—a way of concretely expressing the balance between
body and spirit.
All
this is far from jihad, or even just politics, as noted by the sheikh from
Al-Azhar who, a little cynically, spoke of Khaled’s da`wah diet
(light preaching); the Muslim Brothers call it "air-conditioned
Islam." Khaled’s only project is to address the trendy young of Cairo
or Alexandria through a religious discourse that talks of the values of
self-realization that are part of liberal modernity: ambition, wealth,
success, hard work, efficiency, and self-awareness. He offers them the model
of virtuous wealth and salvation through deeds. One of his followers
explains bluntly: "Wealth is a gift from heaven and a rich Muslim will
spend his fortune in the cause of God and in charitable deeds."
That
is Khaled’s intention. In a rush of enthusiasm, he told his followers,
"I want to be rich so that people will look at me and say ‘You see,
rich and religious,’ and they’ll love God through my wealth. I want to
have money and the best clothes to make people love God’s religion."
Khaled attaches importance to effort and the efficient use of time, and
crusades against useless leisure and too much sleep. Like an entrepreneur,
he believes that "the first thing, in building a serious life, is to
define objectives, and write them down." He calls on his followers to
be "productive in the help you give to friends, productive in doing
deeds, productive in developing society." He praises the value of
ambition: "One of the proofs of God’s love is that it encourages you
to be ambitious, gives you the ambition to reach ever higher, to raise
yourself ever higher in society."
Khaled
certainly has been successful: his sermons are now protected by copyright,
he has set up several companies for distributing audio-cassettes, he is
religious adviser to the Saudi firm Iqra and in demand on the boards of
directors of Islamic banks. As a religious entrepreneur who sanctifies
market values within the framework of depoliticized preaching, Khaled has
become a media product, and he certainly sells. LBC, the chain founded by
Christian Lebanese militias, unhesitatingly sacrificed its religious
loyalties to the god of profit: last Ramadan, it broadcast Khaled’s
Islamic chat show, Wa Nalqa Al-Ahibba (Meeting the Loved Ones), to woo
audiences in the Gulf states and to maximize its advertising revenues.
A
US-Style Da`wah
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Abdullah
Gymnastiar, does not only preach, he also gives courses in management and
motivation.
|
This
sort of preaching is not just an Egyptian phenomenon. For the past five
years Islamist publishers have been enthused by the idea of management. A
former Muslim Brother, Muhammad Abdel Gawad, publishes an Islamized version
of this in booklets with titles such as The Secrets of Efficient
Administration During the Life of the Prophet and The Prophet’s
Management of Human Relations. In Morocco similar pamphlets tell you to
put Divine Blessing to the Service of Business, and in the Gulf an
Islamist publisher sells The Ten Habits of a Successful Person. In
Indonesia the most sought-after of Jakarta’s trendy preachers, Abdullah
Gymnastiar, does not only preach; he also gives courses in management and
motivation.
In
Egypt state religious institutions have not escaped: at the Ministry of
Waqfs,
2
reform projects now concentrate more on the social role of the mosque, civil
society, and self-sufficiency. One of their seminars at Al-Azhar University
focused on rethinking da`wah (preaching), using the precepts of
US-style marketing.
There
may be something to be said for these ways of affirming religion. And the
syncretism that is creeping into new manifestations of the return to Islam
may make us smile. But what we are seeing is not so much the rise of an
Islamic humanism, more an Islamized renewal of economic liberalism. And this
is happening in a climate of severe and increasing social inequalities that
urgently need an alternative solution to resist neoliberal globalization.
Thoughtful
young Islamists show growing interest in movements that seek alternative
solutions in the anti-globalization debate, such as Al-Janub (the South), an
organization oriented towards the third world. Their interest may still
focus on recreating a utopia founded on Islam, but freed from its old
obsession with identity.
*
This article was originally published in September 2003 at the Le
Monde diplomatique, English Edition.
**
Hossam
Tammam,the Editor of the Cultural page of islamonline.net (Arabic Section)
**
Patrick
Haenni,is a researcher in the French Center of Economic, Juristic and Social
Studies and Documentations (CEDEJ).
[1]
Sanskrit term meaning “wheel,” which, according to eastern medicine, is
a centre of energy promoting health and psychological well-being.
[2]
The waqf is the regulating body for Islamic religious properties and
endowments.
