It was too big a disaster. After 16 security personnel were killed in an ambush in the Western desert, several top police and military brass took the fall.
Among them, Sisi’s son’s father-in-law, the chief-of-staff. The message is powerful: All are accountable.
It was too big an opportunity. After contentious debate about two islands and free trade zones with Saudi Arabia, the kingdom announced a new megacity sharing territory with Jordan and Egypt.
Between them, there has been little public discussion. The absence is powerful: Who is accountable?
God, be with Egypt. May she do all things well.
Give the new leadership vision, wisdom, and execution. Help them win this war.
Give the new project efficiency, transparency, and success. Help it grow the economy.
In these and in all, let accountability filter through the state.
The bureaucracy is large, the private sector small. Help merit be rewarded, mediocracy released. There are many barriers, some of them good. People need their jobs.
But God, make them meaningful. May Egyptians work as unto you.
Let your pleasure find expression also in this world. Peace. Prosperity. Dignity.
Your final accounting is coming. Be merciful, now and then.
Photo Credit: Egyptian Coptic Christians attend Orthodox Good Friday mass at the Hanging Church in Coptic Cairo, Egypt, on April 10, 2015. Xinhua/Pan Chaoyue, via Flickr.
“On a day like today,” Fr. Samaan Shehata was murdered in Cairo. The day was October 12, but he likely read those very words in mass just one day earlier, introducing the lives of the saints.
Hunted down and stabbed repeatedly by a Muslim extremist, his name now joins their list. Dozens have preceded him in the last few years alone, gunned down in a bus, bombed in a church, beheaded in Libya.
Godfather to Shehata’s children, Fr. Yuannis Anton said these deaths are a “tax” that Copts must pay for the peace of the church and nation. These are difficult days for Egypt, he said, and the fight against terrorism is a fight for stability.
“In the language of the church, it is our cross to bear,” he said. “But we pray with Jesus not to hold this sin against them. We are not angry nor ask for vengeance, this is not our spirit.”
Similar stances have repeatedly wowed the world as Coptic faithful forgive their enemies. But even when their call instead emphasizes justice, there is an odd sense of jealousy that indwells many in the community.
“I wish I was with him, and lost my life with him,” Fr. Biemen Muftah told C-Sat, who was with Shehata at the time of the murder. “I wish I was as ready as he was, and could be in the place he is now.”
Choking back tears, he said, “We have lost a good priest on the earth, but gained the best intercessor in heaven.”
It is these intercessors Copts learn about “on a day like today,” every time the mass is celebrated.
Called the Synaxarium, the liturgy features daily hagiographic biographies of the celebrated saints of the Coptic Orthodox Church. Read after the Acts of the Apostles and before the Gospel, it features 726 entries, 237 of which involve martyrdom. In daily readings, nearly half the year encourages the faithful to suffer even unto death…
Please click here to read the rest of the article at Providence Magazine.
All life is precious, all that exists. Even in death you care for their life.
But those that never existed? What then if they did?
Last week sixteen policemen were killed in a shootout with terrorists. Foreign news agencies put the death toll much higher, relying on unnamed security sources.
Egypt reacted angrily, and demanded the names of the dead be listed. So far it has not been done, but they stand by their reporting.
God, honor the dead and their sacrifices, no matter the number.
How awful if some are neglected. How awful if others invented.
The confusion helps no one, God, so settle the score.
Trust is essential commodity.
Unnamed sources are ok in journalism, if multiple and verifiable. But they are not best, and invite questioning.
Government statements are ok in journalism, if transparency is established. Official and best, they invite questions if lacking.
Egypt has released the names of the dead, and promised access to records. Grieving families are hard to silence.
Let the sources give the rest, God, or be silent.
If the sources are up to sabotage, make wise the agencies and empower the government to remove them.
If the agencies are up to sabotage, make wise the industry and expose them.
If the government sabotages its own dead, make wise the people.
These are dirty games, God. Bring forth the truth.
Give Egypt success against those who wish to harm her. Too many have died already.
Let not dishonor surround them. Trust, like life, is precious.
Islam grants a man the right to take up to four wives, as long as he can provide for and treat them equitably.
As it has been explained to me, the original allowance came early in Muslim history when the male population was greatly reduced by warfare.
Some Muslims argue the original reason for revelation indicates the provision was temporary. Others argue the high standard of practice is nearly impossible, rendering the provision irrelevant.
But many others see it as God’s eternal permission. Only Turkey and Tunisia have outlawed polygamy, though restrictions exist in many nations.
Egypt, apparently, may enter this minefield.
According to al-Monitor, a draft law has been proposed to require the permission of a first wife before her husband can legally marry a second. The marriage would become null and void unless he can submit to the court her written agreement.
The article does not delve into the details of Islamic jurisprudence, and I am in no position to judge. But it does provide several reactions that illustrate how modern Muslims in Egypt regard the practice.
Here are a few excerpts:
Asserting that the draft law is compatible with Islamic Sharia, he [the draft law author] indicated that the Islamic Research Academy would approve it because Islamic Sharia allowed both spouses to add conditions to protect their rights, to preserve their interests and to have guarantees.
One traditional Salafi parliament member deferred to the Azhar to decide if the law is compatible with Islamic sharia. But he had an objection of relevance, akin to the original Muslim situation:
Khalil added, “What second marriage are we talking about at a time when the number of spinsters in Egypt stands at more than 11 million? Egyptian young men are barely capable of getting married once, let alone a second marriage.”
The head of Azhar University’s fatwa committee did not object:
“This is a permissible condition that has a sound purpose, which is to prevent the harm that may be caused to the first wife in case her husband decided to marry a second woman without her consent.
If a man has the right to marry more than one and consents to waive this right, then the condition [of the first wife’s prior approval] would therefore be valid.
A man can still be capable of having another wife without harming his first wife, since in Islam doing justice between wives is a prerequisite for polygamy.”
The female head of the Arab League’s Women Department disagreed:
“At the beginning of their marriage, both spouses would have strong emotional feelings and would rule out the idea of a second marriage. But as life goes on, a man could consider a second marriage.
I think that the husband should submit to the court the reasons for which he wants a second marriage, and it would be up to the judge to decide whether to allow him or not to do so. The first wife is not a neutral party, and certainly she would not want her husband to take on a second wife.”
A member of Egypt’s National Council for Women said the stipulation is already in personal status law, though not in the marriage contract. But she supports the amendment because there is a one year statute of limitations for divorce, from the time the wife becomes aware of the second marriage. Lawyers (and husbands) have exploited this loophole and kept women in the dark.
But she also finds a supporting rationale:
She further pointed that Muhammad did not allow Ali bin Abi Talib to take on another wife besides Muhammad’s daughter Fatima Zahra because this would hurt her, which confirms that the marriage contract condition of the first wife’s approval on the second marriage is in accordance with Islamic Sharia.
But a Salafi leader dismissed this reasoning:
“Prophet Muhammad and his companions were married to several women, and no one reported that they ever waited for their first wife’s permission.”
He explained that Muhammad’s rejection of Ali bin Abi Talib is a special case related exclusively to Fatima because the second wife was the daughter of Abu Jahl, an infidel.
Hawari added, “Moreover, the prophet did not forbid Ali from getting another wife, but he asked him to divorce Fatima if he insisted on marrying the daughter of Abu Jahl.
After Fatima’s death, Ali married eight women. Therefore, this example cannot be cited when talking about polygamy.”
We had one friend who kept giving birth to girls. She was constantly afraid her husband would take a second wife.
We have another friend whose father’s second marriage proved a source of tension with his children.
A third friend invited us to the marriage of his first wife’s son. We had previously only met his second, but at the door he told us not to mention her name. The first wife didn’t know about it. We had the impression the children did, though, and didn’t object.
Polygamy is complicating, certainly.
Instead of parliamentarians, it would be better to probe instead the Muslim sources and what their commentators have ruled throughout history. It would be better to explore the process by which Turkey and Tunisia outlawed the practice, and see if it had socially acceptable legal justification.
Sometimes bypassed in interpretation of law – divine or otherwise – are the personal stories of those involved.
But in lieu of further study, please make do with the examples above. What do you think?
Here, I only advise to speak with graciousness and humility, holding whatever convictions you deem appropriate.
Egypt suffered another terrorism setback this week, as a shootout with militants in the Western Desert resulted in the death of at least 16 policemen.
That is the official, government tally. International media reported much higher figures, though the government dismissed their numbers and an alleged recording describing the chaos in the field, saying they were unsourced and reflecting unprofessional conduct.
Much speculation focused on the groups behind the attack, whether ISIS from the Sinai, Muslim Brotherhood linked militants, or a rogue army officer perhaps affiliated with al-Qaeda.
The government has launched an investigation, but it is also conducting funerals. Less well reported is this human side of the tragedy, causing Egypt to cancel even a major tourist festival in solidarity with the slain, when the sun shines directly on the face of Ramses II in Abu Simbel.
Desperate to revive the tourism industry, Egypt is more keen to maintain security commitment and morale.
Part of the task is to honor all dead. And among them was Boutros Sulimian Masoud, a Coptic Christian conscript from Ezbat Yacoub Bibawi in Minya. Military figures and Azhar sheikhs were on hand, draping his casket with an Egyptian flag.
Also honored was an army officer named Muhammad Wahid Musalhi. Bishop Makarios of Minya represented the church in both occasions.
And both figures are called ‘martyrs’, as per Egyptian practice, by both church and state.
Consider what you will theologically, but Egypt has suffered a multiplication of martyrs in recent years.
On the one hand, where the term is more familiar, Christians have been targeted by terrorists, though Muslims have also died in the carnage.
On the other, the army and police have been targeted by terrorists, irrespective of religion. Egypt is understood to be 10 percent Christian, and they die beside their brothers in the service.
The Egyptian security services are integrated, drawing all in general conscription. Copts sometimes complain they are kept out of senior positions until promotion at retirement, and that conscript deaths sometimes are under-investigated. But they are grateful for their place in the national army.
It was only in the mid-19th century that the Muhammad Ali dynasty lifted the jizia tax and enrolled Copts. Classical Islamic jurisprudence says that jizia is meant in part to protect Christians living in a Muslim country, that they need not participate in foreign jihad or defense of the nation.
But one of the most powerful proofs of citizenship is mingled blood, fighting side by side against a common enemy.
The pictures here were distributed by the Coptic Media Center and represent Egypt as she idealizes herself. One nation, three religions, one people mourning all.
It does not cover up the flaws, but it is a reminder to Muslim and Christian alike of what Egypt is meant to be.
It can be difficult to begin again. Promising signs give way to more trouble. Egypt is looking to rebuild after several hard years of revolution.
Be with her.
The president has launched a new administrative capital city to house government by the end of the decade. But will it end as previous efforts, Cairo conquering all?
A new traffic law is drafted to better driving habits and reduce congestion. But is there will for proper enforcement, culture conquering all?
New Japanese-model schools are ready to open to instill better sense of discipline and education. But delays come with lack of transparency; corruption conquering all?
The military appears to be making gains against militants to quell terrorism and quiet the Sinai. But attacks continue as desperation rises; can a security commitment conquer all?
Tourism is rebounding from historic lows as beach and history are made more beautiful by depreciation. But the economy falters as inflation increases; can foreign currency conquer all?
God, give patience. God, give urgency.
Egypt is in a tricky place. There is enough stability to move forward. There is enough inertia to hold back.
So give wisdom. Give competence. Give vision. Give realism.
Give hope to the people. Give systems of merit and justice. Give space to live and thrive.
Give a new start, and fit all together. Trouble will come, and hard years continue. But rebuild.
Begin again, with your promise firm. Bless Egypt’s people. May they be yours.
The Atlantic has an insightful piece on the history of American engagement with political Islam. It is written by authors previously recommended as scholars of the movement.
The whole is worth reading, but here is an excerpt describing non-Arab Islamist success — outside of the political process.
It is often assumed politics and governance is the standard of judgment. But is that the case?
Pakistan’s Islamists provide an intriguing counterpoint to the Moroccan “model.” Yet it is a counterpoint that very few Moroccans—or Arab Islamists anywhere—seem much interested in.
Jamaat e-Islami, Pakistan’s Muslim Brotherhood analog, usually wins only a handful of parliamentary seats, yet, as Spiegel points out, the movement may very well be more influential than its Moroccan counterpart, in terms of “influencing judicial appointments, religious tradition, educational mores, and societal norms writ large.” There are other ways of winning besides, well, winning.
In Southeast Asia, Islamist parties, while gaining a significant share of the vote, have not been able to win outright on the national level.
They have, however, helped “Islamism” spread throughout society and become normalized, with even ostensibly secular parties embracing the idea that Islam—and even explicit sharia ordinances—have an important role to play in public life. The lesson here may appear counterintuitive.
The worse Islamists do in elections, the less of a threat they pose to their non-Islamist competitors, who, in turn, seem to have less of a problem appropriating Islamist styles for their own electoral purposes.
Of course, the causal relationships become complicated: One of the reasons that Islamists don’t do as well in South and Southeast Asia is because they’re less distinctive, since these societies seem to have coalesced around a relatively uncontroversial conservative “middle.”
Democracy empowers and encourages all parties, Islamist or otherwise, to seek the center, wherever that may be. As the center shifts rightward, Islamist groups are further emboldened, particularly in polarized societies where candidates pay little price for their radicalism.
It is little surprise, then, that Indonesia, the largest Muslim democracy in the world, has seen a sectarian upsurge. (In May 2017, a Muslim candidate who had developed a reputation as a young “moderate” played on hardline conservative sentiment to unseat the governor of Jakarta, a Christian, who was subsequently imprisoned for blasphemy.)
People often say that Islamism has already conquered Egypt, even if the Brotherhood lost. There is a conservatism to society that wasn’t always here, at least as judged by photos of teachers and students from the 1950s and earlier.
Cairo University, 1959.
There is also this interesting nugget on Islamists at home:
By the time the Arab uprisings toppled regimes in Tunisia, Egypt, and Libya in 2011, the United States had already begun thinking about a new approach toward Islamists.
In 2010, the National Security Council began work on a Presidential Study Directive focused on the question of what a push for genuine political reform in the Middle East would look like—including the normalization of Islamists as political actors.
The immediate challenge after the revolutions of 2011 was therefore not one of deciding whether to increase engagement with Islamists—the Obama administration had already come around on that issue—but rather the question of how and to what extent to undertake such a shift.
I either didn’t know or had forgotten this data point. With all the Egyptian accusations that the US was plotting the Muslim Brotherhood takeover of the nation, it would have been poignant consideration at the time — and now.
There is pleasure in struggle, but spite is so easy. Egypt found a long-lost joy, an international opportunity, and a rare but familiar reminder.
For the first time since 1990, the national soccer team qualified for the World Cup. Frequently the African champion, the streets filled and horns honked after the stoppage time winning goal.
God, thank you for the popular release. Times have been tough, and sport matters little. But you have been pleased to give us diversions. Let the unity created last.
For the first time ever, an Arab nation could have led UNESCO. Egypt and Qatar vied with France to head the UN cultural body, but both fell short. Still at odds with the wealthy peninsula, Egypt threw her support behind Europe, in the end.
God, bless the work of international cooperation. There are rifts in the Gulf, rifts with America, and controversy over Palestine. But place culture above it all. Let it, in unity, craft.
For the first time in a long while, a Coptic priest has been murdered. Visiting an area in lower-class Cairo, an assailant stabbed him to death. Details are unclear, extremism is suspected.
God, comfort his family, his church, and his country. Rid Egypt’s specter of sectarianism, protect her streets from violence. Some see religion as contest, while others are offended. Let not her unity pass.
The fight is worthwhile, God. We prove ourselves against others. Let the winners be humble, the vanquished esteemed.
But not all is competition. Good or evil, there is always better.
Bring Egypt together, and the world with her. For our greater pleasure, and in us, for yours.
The images are horrific. Fr. Samaan Shehata, a 45-year-old Coptic Orthodox priest lay dead on the ground, stabbed and beaten by a young man wielding a meat cleaver.
Blood dripped down his face into his long, black beard. Dirt discolored his flowing, black robe. His cross pendant rested peacefully on his chest, eerily imitated in the cross-like stabbing etched onto his forehead.
Many details remain unknown, but early indications point to extremism. Fr. Samaan was from Beni Suef, visiting a family in Cairo 150 kilometers north in a lower-class, urban suburb of Cairo.
It may well be he was targeted only for the clothes he was wearing – in Egypt, a clear indication of his religious profession.
He was left a public spectacle. So far, no claim of responsibility, no message of intention. There are possible hints circulating of mental instability.
Perhaps. Outright murder is rare in Egypt. Despite the increased terrorism suffered by Copts in recent years, this killing is unusual. There is a chance it was random.
But few think so. Coptic social media immediately proclaimed Fr. Simaan a martyr, adding him to the growing scroll.
The image, however, may have lasting effect, reinforcing a decades-old message: The streets are not the place for priests…
Please click here to read the rest of the article at World Watch Monitor.
To make peace, to make law – men must meet together.
Egypt has played a primary role in fostering unity between Fatah and Hamas. There can be little progress in just peace with Israel when Palestinians are feuding.
And now Egypt’s parliament opens a new session. The first word: Do not defame the body. There can be little progress in stabilizing society in a house divided.
God, keep the unity of spirit through the bond of peace.
There is much bad blood in Palestine, with different visions and different pressures. It will not be easy to make amends, let alone to engage Israel.
And there is much bad blood in parliament, with accusations of subservience and sabotage. It will not be easy to check and balance, let alone to achieve consensus.
God, when men meet together not all is peace. Perhaps it must be so to get there. Give space for all grievance. Give patience with all charity.
Set the Holy Land straight, God. Make Egypt merciful.
May their peoples achieve peace, domestic and foreign, inside and out.
May they argue as necessary but meet together, and love.
Translation: Some pictures of the Roman persecution of Christians. Via Mada Masr.
There is a general understanding that Egypt’s Christians are marginalized in the educational curriculum.
An additional idea is that this came during an Islamization period in the 1970s, or perhaps during Nasser’s presidency.
A researcher examined this question and described them on Mada Masr. Here is his evaluation:
Based on an analysis of Egyptian history textbooks from 1890 until the academic year 2016/2017, it is clear that Egyptian history is narrated from a perspective that values an Arab Muslim identity over other perspectives and voices.
While the tone generally revers and paints Christianity in a positive light, the narrative as a whole is exclusionary in both explicit and subtle ways.
The article as a whole is insightful, and here is an example — of how textbooks changed:
Current history textbooks do not include explicit derogatory references to Christianity or Christians — as some of the earlier textbooks did. In fact, they include extremely positive mentions, albeit concise.
For instance, in explaining why ancient Egyptians embraced Christianity, a 2016 textbook explains that they were attracted by its values of justice, equality, mercy, empathy, tolerance, renouncement of worldly pleasures, and valuing of the afterlife.[11]
However, we need to also be cognizant of more subtle ways that might give value to one identity while diminishing or silencing others. In addition to continuing to use explicit and extensive Muslim referents as highlighted above, more subtle exclusions can also be found in current textbooks.
For instance, they use the word “Arab” to characterize countries such as Egypt and Lebanon even before they had been taken over by Arab Muslim armies. Such references give the historically inaccurate and false impression that these countries have always embraced an Arab identity, eclipsing the richness of their pre-existing civilizations and cultures.[12]
Additionally, several of these history textbooks have continued to address students as if they are all Muslim. For instance, an 1893 history textbook explains that the religious story of David and his son Solomon “must be learned by all Muslims.”[13]
Similarly, a 1988 history textbook encourages students to learn about the annual Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca by asking their relatives who might have performed it.[14]
In discussing civic engagement, current textbooks encourage students to be proud of our Islamic principles and values that encourage us to volunteer in the community and peacefully co-exist with others different from ourselves.[15]
In Egypt it is sometimes necessary to ask the religion of the researcher, often indicated by name. Ehaab Abdou — I believe these names are shared by Muslims and Christians alike.
What is important, however, is quality. The article is too brief to fully evaluate, but he claims a comprehensive scope of research. I don’t have the background in the subject to know if he left out damning specifics; other Egyptians, please weigh in.
The one thing I noticed is that he did not specifically state he evaluated textbooks in the Azhar educational curriculum. Copts sometimes claim this is a source of bias against them.
But on the whole, the article appears to be an evenhanded treatment of a controversial subject.
Few things are as important as the education of our children — and ourselves.
A Muslim Brotherhood flag from Jordan, via the National Review. Credit: Khalil Mazraawi/AFP/Getty. Translation: It is a Holy Quran; God is Great, to God be Praise; Prepare [see Quran 8:60]; The Muslim Brotherhood.The link between the Muslim Brotherhood and the ongoing terrorism in Egypt is a controversial question.
The government says yes, the MB leadership says no, and Western analysts appear split on the issue. Some see the Brotherhood as the fount of all Islamist violence, others note decades of proclaimed nonviolence in a gradualist strategy to transform Egypt.
But not many have done the exhaustive investigative work of Mokhtar Awad, writing here for the Small Arms Survey of the Security Assessment in North Africa Project.
His 16 page report details the emergence of two allegedly MB-linked violent actors, Liwaa al-Thawra and Hassm. Here are his conclusions:
Perhaps the most explicit and significant indication of a connection between the MB and Liwaa al-Thawra is found in the latter’s statement of responsibility for the assassination of Brigadier General Raga’i.
In it, the group says that the operation was in part revenge for the security forces’ killing of MB leader Mohamed Kamal (Liwaa al-Thawra, 2016c).
In the group’s follow-up video after claiming responsibility for the attack, it eulogized slain MB leaders by showing their pictures, including that of Kamal (Liwaa al-Thawra, 2016d).
Read Awad’s full report about Kamal, who served in the upper echelon of Brotherhood leadership and was responsible for mainland Egypt after many others fled abroad.
As for Hassm, there are also indications of connections between the group and the MB.
The one known leader of Hassm who was killed by the authorities, Mohamed Ashour Dashisha, was an Arabic teacher and graduate from the prestigious Dar al-Ulum college at Cairo University. An examination of Dashisha’s social media profiles indicates that he was at least a supporter of the MB and likely a member as well (Awad, 2017b).
More importantly, in November 2016 the Egyptian Ministry of the Interior released a video statement claiming the arrest of several Hassm members. The arrested members’ confessions alleged a direct operational link to the MB (Egyptian Ministry of the Interior, 2016).
Interestingly, the MB admitted that the persons arrested by the government were MB members, but said that they were simply ‘rights activists’ (MB, 2016a).
Notably, neither of the two rival MB factions has yet released any statement explicitly condemning Hassm or Liwaa al-Thawra, or any of their attacks.
Is this enough evidence to establish a Brotherhood connection? Is such establishment even possible?
Certainly, aside from evidence presented by the Egyptian government of such connections, there is little independent, verifiable, and open-source information that sheds light on potential operational connections.
This will likely continue to be the case unless and until an MB leader explicitly admits to a connection on the record. Such a scenario seems unlikely, however, because the violence allegedly used by the MB and Ikhwani jihadi groups serves a specific political purpose.
Unlike Salafi jihadi groups, the MB does not see violence as its sole tactic, nor does it see benefit in claiming responsibility for attacks that would diminish its international standing.
Without a leak or verified interception of official communications, open-source research cannot easily identify or provide definitive confirmation of any linkages between MB and Hassm or Liwaa al-Thawra, or penetrate a clandestine operation that would reveal such a connection.
Regardless of the degree of connection to the MB as an organization, there is little doubt that Hassm and Liwaa al-Thawra have in their ranks and among their supporters either current or former members of the MB and allied Islamist groups. The political context in which they operate makes this all but a certainty (Awad, 2017b).
For your evaluation. Any thoughts?
Postscript: Read also this investigative report from Mada Masr, on how the prosecutor-general was assassinated.
Some people have a project. Others like to project.
And some just like to sing. Judge between them, God. Their intentions and their cause.
An upscale district in Cairo invited a popular Lebanese band to a concert festival. The lead singer is well known as a homosexual.
Some in the crowd raised a rainbow flag in solidarity. Shared on social media, the firestorm began.
Talking heads and politicians continued the hubbub. Seven concertgoers were arrested, with investigations into the organizers. The band may yet be banned.
God, all praise to you for the gift of music. May your creation craft creatively in honorable imitation.
But some creation, yours and ours, deviate from the norm. Give wisdom, God, in what to do.
You esteem freedom, God, but not license. You create diversity, but not deformity.
Guide your creation in knowing where to draw the line.
For those on the wrong side of society’s norm, may they find mercy within judgment.
For those on the right, may they respond with the right. At times, the law. At others, grace.
For those who wish to erase and adjust, may they know well your will. If in one direction, give them compassion. If in the other, courage.
For all, may they know your love for all creation. Your love embraces, but also transforms. Bring all to your desired end.
You have the best of all projects, God. Creatively change us. Bring us to sing.
Amen.
note: Mashrou3 is Arabic for “project” and is part of the name of the Lebanese band, Mashrou3 Laila.
We realized this six years ago, when our oldest daughter came home from her first days of school with “Emma Jaison” printed on her books. Her name is Emma Hope Casper, which I clearly wrote on all her official forms.
But I also filled out the ever-important question of her father’s name, my husband, Jayson. As per Egyptian pattern, her name became Emma Jayson, though in practice Ema or Amy, Jaison or Jasen, depending on how they guessed these strange names to be spelled.
A quick lesson in the Egyptian naming system is required. When a baby is born, parents choose the first name, just as they would in America. But that is the choice available, and the rest of the name is determined by family.
Every baby’s second name is its father’s name, even if she is a girl. The third name is the baby’s grandfather’s name—that of the father’s father. The fourth and final name for official paperwork is that of the great-grandfather, and unofficially stretches back through the generations.
To be honest, we are still confused about any actual “family name”. Some people seem to have something to correspond with Smith or MacDonald, although it would be something along the lines of Masri (from Egypt) or Tantawi (from Tanta). But we can’t quite figure out how that works with the pattern above.
Each of our three daughters have similarly returned from kindergarten with their name changed. Our second became Hannah Jayson, though alternately spelled: Hanah, Hana, or Hanna.
Trying to get it right in discussion with school administration, our third daughter’s first name, Layla, got combined with her second, Peace. But her papers came back: Lailapes Jaison. I almost couldn’t figure out what it said.
Granted, transliteration between English and Arabic isn’t easy. But he mix-ups in name have sometimes bothered our girls. A simple name like Emma Hope has become Amahoub. Hannah Mercy was eventually spelled correctly, with her a different issue emerged.
In kindergarten, Hannah was known only as Hannah Jayson, but when she entered first grade, they added her actual middle name. This happened the same year that the former president Mohamed Morsy was deposed.
But when you write Mercy in Arabic script it looks just like Morsy, since Arabic writing leaves out the short vowels. And since the word “mercy” in English looks nothing like its translation in Arabic (rahma), everyone assumed she was similarly named to the Muslim Brotherhood leader.
Plenty of people here hated the Brotherhood, but Morsi is a fine and common name—among Muslims. While plenty of names have no religious marker, Abanoub or Shenouda signify a Christian, while Mohamed or Morsi indicate the child is a Muslim.
So the teachers wondered: Why is Hannah Morsy enrolled in the Christian religion class?
Click here to read more about our kids and religious education in Egypt.
Even more confusing for the teachers is how Emma “Hobe” and Hannah “Morsy” are sisters to begin with, with different names for their father. Add in Lailapes Jaison and you really confuse them!
We thought we would make things easier for our son Alexander, who is now entering kindergarten.
Click here to read the different naming options we considered, with pros and cons for each in Egypt.
My husband’s middle name is the same as his father’s, so to honor both the family and the Egyptian pattern, we did the same. He is Alexander Jayson (father’s name) Charles (grandfather’s name). His last name is still Casper, as we can’t imitate them in everything.
But it won’t be that easy. We commonly call him by the Arabic equivalent of Alexander, Iskander. He goes by both, and much as a four-and-a-half-year-old understands these things, he knows they are both his names.
But when he gets to school, what will he say his name is? Will he write Iskander in Arabic class, but Alexander in English? And how many people will just call him Alex, anyway?
Despite the confusion for each of our kids, we teach them their names were chosen with care. We display them in our living room, that they might be esteemed by child and guest alike.
English-speaking friends sometimes curiously notice the semi-strange middle names, and Arabic-speaking friends are often altogether confused. But wholesome discussion usually follows.
Hope, Mercy, and Peace—each a desirable virtue for life, paired with a corresponding Bible verse we trust they will internalize.
Our son’s pattern is different, and his sign requires more explanation. Alexander was the son of Simon of Cyrene, who carried Jesus’ cross. Of his two middle names, may he follow and become a third generation of faith.
Children grow old and develop their character. But a name is the one thing we give them they keep their whole lives. Their identity will be shaped by many, and their path is their own.
But we have the responsibility to shape their foundation, beginning with that first official form.
Our Hope is that they grow up with the Mercy to let others misunderstand them, the internal Peace to know who they truly are, and a family history to teach them whose cross they are privileged to carry.
Significant things happened within Egypt this week. A prisoner was acquitted after four years detainment. Two churches reopened after security concerns. Police station spot inspections were begun by parliament.
But the president was in New York at the United Nations, significantly negotiating the path of the nation.
He earned praise for helping un-divide the Palestinians. He urged better coordination in combatting terrorism. He signed memorandums on illegal migration. He lobbied for increased foreign investment.
He took his place on the world stage, mingling with world leaders.
Interests govern foreign affairs, God. But relationships can make a significant difference.
So does domestic policy. Help Egypt do what is right by her own people.
But in the world, give the president grace. In precarious times, help him balance sovereignty and support. Help him challenge allies, and win over foes.
Help him represent Egypt.
It is a significant task, God, but in your sovereignty, support him. Of the people, and for them, challenge, and win over.
Egypt is abuzz over human rights allegations, accusing security of systemized torture.
Egypt is ablaze in militant conflict, attacking security in systemized violence.
Clarity, God, and safety. Settle the challenges Egypt must face.
The government refutes the charges of torture, stating any examples are individual, investigated, and prosecuted. It states the research into the report was shoddy, reliant on inadequate sources, and overtly politicized.
The government raided a terrorist cell in a neighborhood of urban Cairo, killing several. It then suffered losses when a convoy was ambushed in the Sinai. It asserts progress is being made and pressure exerted on the militants, but still faces an intransigent and virulent threat.
God, assist the authorities to fully establish a culture of human rights and the accountability thereof. And assist the self-appointed accountants to both chronicle and communicate well.
Give them discernment between exposure and advice. Give them wisdom in opposition and partnership. And give humility to the authorities in refutation, with courage, in reform.
But as for militancy, silence it. Channel frustrations into legal and viable options. Save violence only against recalcitrant evildoers. And even these, convict to repentance.
God, there are many paths to legitimacy. There are many more ways to undermine.
Establish Egypt upon your path—abuzz in expectancy, ablaze in creativity—systemized both as secure and human.
Today, September 12, would have been my mother-in-law’s 67th birthday.
Tayta, as our children call her, passed away six months ago. She fought courageously through two bouts of cancer, and the first time she triumphed. The second time, she succumbed. We remember her well, but the relationship will never be the same.
Complicating things completely is that we live in Egypt, an ocean away, where she visited us consistently. Jayson, my husband, got word she wasn’t doing well, and should come home immediately, just in case.
One day later, Tayta breathed her last. She was surrounded by her children and husband, and died peacefully.
But the children and I were not there. Immediate preparations are difficult for a large family, and we had the idea that we would follow Jayson a bit later. There was no guarantee she would die.
With only a few hours before Jayson had to travel, we tried to gently explain to the kids that Tayta was not doing well and it was important for Daddy to go be with her. And as she might die soon, all of us will go to see her as soon as we can.
The kids were saddened by this news, yet not totally surprised. Through Skype a few days earlier they saw that Tayta was not feeling well, even though she still had her same spirit and sense of humor.
But with Jayson in the air, the message came that Tayta entered hospice care. My prayer was that the boys would make it in time to see their mom, but it also hit me that we likely would not. And almost as bad, I had to tell the kids.
Funny the things you don’t think about, and living abroad perhaps it should have been obvious. But I never expected I’d lose a loved one and not be there, nor that my husband and I would not be together.
Years ago, Jayson and I were privileged to receive training in how to handle grief. One of the principles is to communicate clearly with your kids about what is happening, without trying to be strong for them. To let them see how this loss affects you, and learn appropriately.
Another principle is the importance of saying good-bye and communicating important statements, if possible, while the person is still alive.
I wasn’t sure how much time we had, so before school I recorded each of them saying, “I love you, Tayta,” recalling different memories and things they appreciated. It was somewhat easy for them, as they didn’t know the full reality, and now was not the time to tell them.
But privately, I blubbered through my whole recording, knowing that I wasn’t going to see her alive again.
After school, it was time to talk honestly. It was a hard conversation. They loved her very much, and it was a shock to hear she would die before they saw her. We cried together a long time.
Meanwhile, Jayson was grieving in New Jersey. He had spent most of his day with his father and brothers by his mom’s bedside, holding her hand, sometimes talking to her, and not seeing much response.
It was hard to grieve with him and for him from so far away.
Skyping later, we gave the kids the option of seeing a very sickly Tayta on screen as we played their videos in front of her near-comatose body. They chose not to, at first. I did, and it was hard to look. She was no longer who I remembered, and she didn’t respond as I talked.
But perhaps she heard; hospice workers say that it is often the last sense to go.
Afterwards the kids came back into the room one by one, and bravely looked at Tayta and said their good-byes. They cried with Sidu, as we call my father-in-law.
Our oldest daughter recited Psalm 23, and we also laughed and smiled at some good memories. It was a hard time, but a good time.
Tayta died later that evening, and the kids stayed home from school. We had a full day to cry when we wanted to, laugh when we could, and do some things that Tayta would do with them … like Play-doh and bubbles. It was a hard day, but a good day.
We Skyped with Jayson a few hours later, and I saw the empty living room where we had so many memories, but also where her hospice bed had held her. Just like that it was gone, as was Tayta.
It hit me: The loss of a special mother-in-law. The loss of a grandmother to my kids. The loss of a mother to my husband. The loss of a wife to my father-in-law, who now has his whole life turned upside down. And the loss of a friend, as her many close relationships reached out through Facebook and email.
If I was there, I could have more easily shared in this grief, at least some of it. But as we made plans to travel back for the memorial service, I grieved also that we must continue to grieve apart, and from afar.
The tears still come sometimes. They did as I wrote this and remembered the pain of saying good-bye. They will flow again when we return to the states for a visit, and she isn’t there to read books to the kids or laugh at her sons’ playful arguments at the game table.
But sadness isn’t the only emotion that fills me when I think of Tayta. There are good memories every time we discuss her with the kids. They have her dolls; we have her pictures. Today we made apple pie, her favorite dessert.
We miss her a lot, but we said good-bye well. It was hard, but it was good.
The Azhar spoke out about the death and displacement of Muslims from Myanmar. It called on the world’s conscience to care, and the international community to do something about it.
It also asserted—rightly or wrongly—that if they were Jews, Christians, or Buddhists, there would have been action already.
God, some of the images are horrific. Villages burned, children killed. Stop the violence, end the hatred.
Myanmar says the Muslim community are illegal immigrants from Bangladesh, appropriating land over many years.
Whatever the truth, God, may problems be solved appropriately.
Perhaps the Azhar is right. Few outside of Southeast Asia pay much attention to the region.
But God, all have blind spots. Many support their own. Hypocrisy is everywhere—none can equitably spread their compassion, none can completely ensure justice.
Except you. Intervene, God. There and everywhere. Motivate your world to join you.
Give wisdom to the Azhar, and the world’s Muslims, in how to compel the cause.
Give wisdom to Myanmar, and the Rohingya’s neighbors, in how to solve their grievances.
And give wisdom to the world, to find the path toward peace.
May mankind care, God. May mankind act.
May religion have little to do with it. May you have much.
At least in urban and suburban America, it seems like Copts are everywhere. There is an
Orthodox Church a town over from where I grew up in New Jersey. I played soccer with an Egyptian Christian in high school.
Strange to think then, the church in North America is only 39-years-old, today.
Technically that is not quite true. The first weekly liturgy was held over a decade earlier in 1964, and spiritual meetings began in 1959, if not earlier.
But on September 8, 1978, St. Mark’s became the first Coptic Orthodox church built in North America, in Toronto, Canada.
The story is simple, and as a North American who has received much Coptic kindness, I am glad to report my continental forefathers helped along the way.
Elias Wagdy Abdel-Messih, who came to the US to study ethnomusicology, met with other prominent Copts and helped organized the first meetings in New York. By 1961 they drew together the first wave of Coptic immigrants from across the eastern seaboard, and celebrated Easter in a small town in Pennsylvania. That same summer in Chicago the Coptic American Association was established during a conference in Chicago.
Fr. Makary El-Souriany was dispatched from Egypt on repeated visits, and eventually ordained Abdel-Messih as Fr. Marcos Marcos, on August 9, 1964
As an aside, Fr. Makary would eventually be consecrated Bishop Samuel, responsible for nationwide Coptic social services. He was killed during the assassination of President Anwar al-Sadat in 1981.
But Fr. Marcos became responsible for all of North America, and moved to Toronto in 1964, holding regular services also in Montreal and New York. His choice was not particularly strategic – the United States granted him a visitor’s visa, while Canada offered immigration.
Eventually churches would be established in New Jersey, Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston, Philadelphia, Detroit, Cleveland, San Francisco, and Boston in the United States, and Halifax, Winnipeg, Edmonton, and Vancouver in Canada.
Fr. Marcos became known as ‘the flying priest’ for his extensive travels. The pattern continued until the arrival of Fr. Raphael Nakhla from Egypt in 1967, when they divided responsibilities into east and west.
The early Toronto liturgy, however, was held in a kindergarten at St. Mildred’s College, an Anglican school, serving 36 Coptic families. In 1965 the Anglican Holy Trinity Church offered their upstairs chapel to the Coptic community, and in 1968 the Anglicans gave full use of St. Matthias. In 1970 they moved again, leasing the United Church for $1 per year.
In 1977 this building was sold, and the church had to move again into a school auditorium. But that same year the church obtained an acre of land, in the neighborhood of Agincourt, Scarborough, Toronto, for $1.
The church specifically thanks Revs. Hunt, Chote, Fisk, Palmer, Roberts, and Lee for their kindness. Dr. McClure offered the lease; Mr. McClintoch sold the land.
Groundbreaking took place quickly, to coincide with the visit of Pope Shenouda to Toronto. And today, 19 years ago, Bishop Ruweis of the diocese of North America presided over the church consecration. Seventeen Coptic Orthodox priests from around the region helped officiate.
The church underwent expansion in 1992, and now includes a cultural center and Coptic museum.
Today St. Mark’s serves 500 families and 4000 parishioners. It is one of 37 Coptic Orthodox churches in Canada; the United States has over 200. The population estimate of the Coptic diaspora worldwide ranges from 1-2 million. Country estimates vary widely, from 100,000 to one million in the US, and up to 50,000 in Canada. The 2011 Canadian census listed their number at 16,000, which dramatically rose from 5,000 in the 1991 census.
I have not visited the church personally, though it would be nice to do so one day. I hope I will find continuing good relationships with the surrounding churches and community.
I would be surprised if it was not so.
Perhaps we can play soccer together.
The information above was collected from a pamphlet issued by St. Mark’s Church shortly before its 1978 consecration, a 2008 MA thesis of Rachel Loewen, for McMaster University, and the St. Mark’s church website. The photos are from the Away with Joanna blog.
UPDATE: Michael Akladios provides additional information and a different timeline in this Facebook comment.
He also writes: “Documentation for this history is available in the Toronto Anglican Diocesan Archive, the Toronto United Church Archive, and Library and Archives Canada in Ottawa; once again proving that Copts must find better means of preserving and maintaining their own history.”
I would trust his version above my own, but a thorough and more fitting article would do well to verify his and multiple sources.
This post is simply meant to make a digital record of an interesting pamphlet I stumbled upon in Cairo, for purpose similar to his: To promote a memory and further understanding.
Preserving history is much more difficult, and all are welcome to help iron it out here – and more importantly, in the archives he references.
The comment below, from Sylvia Marcos, daughter-in-law to the flying priest, is welcome reference for all who are interested.
Max came to our home about three years ago, and I must confess we have not treated him very well. At the time of his arrival our young children had Egyptian friends playing over the house, and we are unsure if there was any unspoken trauma from a dead man being hauled through the front door.
The friends have continued to come, so no great damage done. But uncertain comments from parents convinced us to keep him in the storage room thereafter.
Accessible, but out of the way. Part of the house, but not part of life. I suppose that’s fitting—being dead and all—but it still seems cruel.
In the Middle East it is often observed that some parents hide away children with mental or physical disabilities. This pattern is changing, but a sense of shame has condemned many to at-home isolation.
Have we treated Max similarly?
The cultural pattern for death is somewhat similar. Muslim tradition demands a body be buried almost immediately. Unlike the West where a mortician will preserve for final goodbyes at a later-scheduled funeral, the shock of death is quickly muted. So also is grief, at least for half of society. Women may wail and cry out in pain. Men are expected to resign themselves to the will of God, and move on.
So for those who knew, it must have been very strange that we have dead bones in our closet.
Or, had. We recently moved Max to a suitable institution, finding for him a welcoming home. But we signed no paperwork, neither to receive him nor pass him on.
Here also we may resemble Middle East culture. Children in difficult situations may be taken in by relatives or others, but there is no formal adoption. Islam forbids the transfer of family heritage, lest ancient lineages become corrupted.
But we should pause here and say a word about Max. Consistent with all the above-mentioned taboos, we have so far ignored him and spoken only about ourselves and the expectations that press upon the region.
Unfortunately, we cannot say much.
Max likely belonged to a medical school in Cairo at least as far back as 1962. The sister of an Egyptian friend graduated from the university, did her internship, and somehow came in possession of what must have been a favored learning tool.
In time, much like in our story but considerably worse for him, Max wound up in a trunk in her parent’s basement. Several years later our friend found him, and passed him on to her friend taking a dental exam. Max doesn’t have too many teeth, but I suppose his jaw was sufficient.
This was around the same time we visited our friend. It is hard to recall the conversation, but one of our daughters must have expressed an interest in science. Perhaps we even asked about a skeleton, if the plastic versions were available in Egypt.
Little did we know our friend had the real thing. After succeeding in the dental exam, our friend’s friend drove Max to our home, where he has resided since.
Until now. We have changed apartments, and in the purge we had to make a decision about Max. I would love for him to rest next to one of our children’s beds, or even dwell with us in the family room. We value learning – we have maps on our walls, we have books on our shelves.
But we also have friends who visit. I recently brought back from America a favored wall hanging of a ‘Wise Old Owl who lived in an oak,’ that was in my room since childhood. We displayed it prominently, until Egyptian friends reminded us that an owl is an ill omen in Arab culture. So much for wisdom.
The owl poem continues: ‘The more he saw, the less he spoke. The less he spoke, the more he heard. Why can’t we all be like that bird?’
Applying the poem with its cultural implications suggested we should at least move the owl to the privacy of our bedroom. And perhaps it suggested also the fate of Max.
Until fate intervened. In lamenting Max on Facebook during our moving process, friends in the administration of a local international school mentioned they had long desired a skeleton. Our oldest daughter was joining the student body after doing her elementary years in the Egyptian system, so it seemed a perfect match.
We restore Max to his original educational purpose, but family is still there to help with his transition.
The last question was how to move him. Around the time Max came to our home I purchased a medical IV stand, and the hook in his head hung him in place.
We amusedly considered rolling him down the street in procession with our family, but thought the neighbors already consider us odd enough foreigners.
In the end the school came with a car, and we laid Max down on the lowered back seat.
Perhaps it recalled one of no-longer-alive-Max’s first memories.
Despite the lightness of this post, there is a serious point. Christians believe two things about Max: He was made in God’s image, and he will be bodily resurrected.
Different cultures demand different customs concerning the dead. But immediate burial, final viewing, preserving relics, quiet cremation, and funeral pyres are all expressions of the same impulse: Honor.
A principle means of honoring life is right treatment in death. There is something sacred that lingers. It must be remembered.
It may also be employed. God intends us to enjoy our life, but to find this enjoyment in service of others. Death can be an extension: When my mother died, she donated her body to science.
Maybe Max did the same.
In any case, he has a new home. The school may or may not struggle with the same issues we did, but at least Max is now back to his proper place in education.
We don’t know the details, but perhaps Max also knew God’s proper place in life. May we all, before we all become Max.
Jayson Casper 