In Search of Obama in Cairo
Although this has been my ninth visit to Cairo, I have never experienced the type of Egyptian interest in American politics as there is at present. Four weeks ago I accompanied a student involved in the DukeEngage program to the Anglo-American hospital for treatment for a heat-related illness. Addressing me, Mr. Sherif, the receptionist, asked: “American?” When I replied in the affirmative, he said “Obama,” and gave the thumbs-up. As I was awaiting the arrival of the student in a different car, I requested a pen and paper. As our conversation co
Only a week ago, the DukeEngagers had been invited to give a talk at Cairo University about the American election. As the students debated over how best to begin the discussion, how to address the audience’s questions, and how to represent every point-of-view, the host, Professor Abu al-Aynein, initiated the conversation by asking about the phenomena of Obama: its roots and core constituency. One of the DukeEngagers, Jon, connected the phenomenon to the rise of a new force in American politics, the cyberspace community that wants to take back politics from Washington. A doctoral candidate from the audience wanted to know the relationship between these online communities and Obama; who is the agent and who is the product? Jon’s explanation lacked the necessary detail to address the many dimensions of the question, and for the next 40 minutes, the discussion centered on Obama. A diplomat from Libya who introduced himself as Dr. Mahmoud noted that he had come to the talk because everyone from China to Saudi Arabia has an interest in Obama’a focus on taghyir, or change, and he was hoping to get an answer from the DukeEngagers.
Our host stated that in his view, Obama is the best thing that is happening in the world right now, but he wondered about the implications of his desire for change: “What does it mean for us---those in the Middle East? Is it [a] continuation of the current policies under a new administration, or a shift from the failed policies?” The students differed in their responses to these questions. One student, Brittany, then suggested that John McCain was the better candidate. The audience was less interested in McCain, whom they generally referred to as Obama’s challenger. Over time, the debate shifted to the DukeEngagers, as the members of the audience appeared to be unanimous in their interest in Obama. Another doctoral student asked a DukeEngager, Dylan, if Obama represented the end of the era of the White Anglo-Saxon Protestant Male (WASP). Dylan appeared to be surprised to hear that term being used in Cairo, and seemed uncomfortable with the question.
To get a better prospective, I called my friend, professor Helmi Sharawi, who is a leading political analyst in Egypt. I asked him for his opinion of Obama. He insisted that I visit him at his house in ‘Ajouza to follow-up on the topic. The next day, we spent two hours discussing politics, during which time he demonstrated little interest in or knowledge of John McCain. At the end of the discussion, he gave me his Obama article in a June edition of the Egyptian National Newspaper, “Al-Ahali,” in which he notes, “Obama’s taghyir is a unique test in the America’s quest for change. I should rather say, the world community yearns for a changed America due to the devastating policies of the outgoing president.”
Two weeks later, I talked to Egypt’s most popular novelist in the post-Naguib Mahfouz era, Alaa Al-Aswani, about arranging a DukeEngage meeting the following week. At the end of our conversation, I solicited his views regarding the upcoming election (without referring to either of the candidates). Without ever mentioning Obama’s rival, he stated “Everyone in Egypt and the Arab world supports Obama, even though he supports Israel. We love what he represents.” He continued, “I am personally very emotional about Obama’s candidacy. I got my masters degree from Chicago, Illinois, and that is the name of my last novel—Chicago.” The following week, we attended his literary Salon, where issues of culture and politics are discussed weekly. It was ironic that as Dr. Karima al-Hafnawi, an executive member in the Kefaya opposition movement (a grassroots organization that opposes President Mubarak’s re-election or his son’s appointment in Mubarak’s place), spoke, she said that “Kefaya stands for all those at the grassroots, whether in Cairo or in the United States. It is against the government of the few—the big businesses—the multi-billion dollar companies. In the United States, it stands for what Michael Moore and Obama stand for.”
All of these experiences have further fueled my desire to understand this widespread interest in Obama, as without exception, everyone has expressed an affinity for him. I can remember the old man at the corner store of our street in Garden City telling me that he likes Obama because "huwa Zayyana" (he is like us), although he never succeeded in explaining what he meant by “Zayyana.” Between June 21 and July 25 I have reviewed four leading Egyptian daily newspapers. I have counted 18 columns with subtitles about Obama, and none about McCain. In the instances in which McCain was mentioned, it was in the context of explaining Obama’s politics. For example, on July 7, there were two columns a
Since the mosque is most free space in the Arab world, and since the sphere that guides politics and perception in Middle East often emerges from the culture of the mosque, and since imams, although marginalized in the War on Terror, are the most influential social agents in the Middle East, I decided to bring the topic of Obama’s phenomenal popularity
Following my conversation with the imam, I attended a Sufi halaqa that has been taking place at the mosque for decades. Sufism embodies the spiritual dimension of Islam that cuts across the Shi’a and Sunni divide. This is among the few mosques in Cairo where one can attend a Sufi “dance,” as DukeEngagers call this ritual practice. After the service, I asked the Sheikh about his views on the election. The neatly-dressed Sheikh flashed a wide smile, and gave me some candy before commenting that “Siyasa, bas Mashakil” (politics are only problems). That marked the end of my search of Obama with the Sheikh, and I walked with him to see the tomb of the Shah of Iran and other Egyptian leaders in the back of the mosque.
Sufi apathy toward politics is as old as the Shi’a Sunni’s divide in Islam. This stems from the Sufi’s reaction to the two groups’ preoccupation with power transfer after the death of the Prophet of Islam, with the Shi’a support going to ‘Ali ibn Abi Talib, the Prophet’s nephew, and Sunni support going in favor the other caliphates . As this conflict took a bloody turn, the Sufi movement intensified in Mecca, and then in many other corners in the Muslim world. They argue that Islam is a self-perpetuated spiritual journey, far away from worldly politics. They also reconstructed the meaning of jihad to its higher scope—the personal—the inner struggle. This refrain from politics has been problematic for most Sufi who are often described in Muslim intellectual discourse as not aloof to oppressive regimes, friend of colonial authorities, and in modern time, as unable to offer a constructive insight to the challenges of modernity. Naguib Mahfouz’s 1961 novel, The Thief and the Dogs, highlighted how the inability of a Sufi sheikh to help the main character, Said Mahran, address real life problem created social anarchy. Mahfouz was obviously criticizing the docile attitude of the Sufi establishment in addressing Egypt’s major problems of the time.
I was not satisfied with these imams as most of them are political agents of the government rather than independent entities who represent their communities and congregations. When you listen to a sermon in which the imams thank the leader – the king or the president – that is an indication that he is an appointed imam, or that he is catering to the existing authorities. As such, he is speaking for himself, and not for or against his constituents. In the Islamic tradition, there is a saying about appointed imams in the context of a story that “the frog was asked one day why don’t you speak out? He said, ‘Well, I have water in my mouth, and does a mouth full of water ever speak?’ So traditionally, court imams have been described as a frog, who cannot speak out because his mouth is full with water.
On the following Friday, I went to the city of Imbaba, one of the freest spaces in Cairo – the home of Islamism and activism. This is the place in Northern Cairo in which residents declared an Islamic state in 1992; the state responded by cordoning off the area, prompting riots and gun battles with the residents. 700 people were arrested, and many declared themselves to be leaders of the al-Jama’ al-Islamiyyah. At the mosque of Imam Hussein, the presiding imam highlighted corruption in the street, the neighborhood and the government. He then talked about politics in the Middle East, ranging from Palestine, Lebanon and Afghanistan, to Iraq and Iran, emphasizing the role of the U.S. in each of these conflicts. The imam did not address the election, nor did he mention the names of either Obama or McCain. However, he stated unequivocally that there is no hope of change coming from America, no matter who the leader is; whether government remains the same or changes, the struggle between truth and falsehood will never end.
It is clear from the imam’s stance that whether it is Obama or McCain tomorrow, the U.S.’s policy will remain as it was with Clinton of yesterday and Bush of today. This line of thought is old and engrained in a psychology of resistance that goes back to Sayyid Qutb in his 1946 article in the Ar-resalah magazine. In the article, Qutb concluded after a lengthily criticism of the West that “really I hate and despise those Westerners! All without exception; the British, the French, the Dutch and now the Americans who were one time trusted.”
Since Qutb is the most influential Muslim theorist in modern time, his views have set the political agenda of both Arab nationalism and Muslim activism. They became a slogan in many nationalist movements of the 1950s. Gamal A. Nassir made use of it in the war of 1967, and Anwar Sadat used it in his 1973 war. Even King Faisal of Saudi Arabia used it when he threatened to cut oil production in the Middle East in 1970s. The last one to use it was Saddam in 2003. The very concept of America as the “Great Satan,” which was popularized by Imam Khomeini in Iran in 1979, has its roots in Qutb’s article.
Understanding the logic of such an imam in particular and the slogan in general does not require a graduate education. It is a rather simplistic view of a relationship between one who sees himself as oppressed and the other, whom he perceives as the oppressor. As Franz Fanon notes, a rationalization of the behavior of each actor is needed for his cause to remain vibrant, continuous and worthy. Likewise, Edward Said argues, the other also needs to assert his superiority by dehumanizing the logic of the native and his way of life.
I asked Abdallah Schleifer, a professor emeritus of Journalism at the American University in Cairo, why Egyptians are so fascinated by Obama. He felt that there are two reasons: psychological, because they are, like Obama, people of color; and political, they are like all Arabs who are unsatisfied with the current government. However, it seems to me that there are three trends of thought about Obama in this largest city of the Middle East. There are those who love him because he is “Zayyana” (“like us”), those who support him because he is not Bush, and those who admire him because of his slogan of change. On a broader level, the first is true and does apply to those on the street and ordinary people. However, the question remains: what is “Zayyana?” Is it a person of color? Does it mean someone from the “Third World?” Or does it refer to some other undefined characteristic? Only time will tell.
As I refereed between the DukeEngage soccer team and the Somali team in the sweltering mid-day sun back at St. Andrew’s compound, I noticed a small child in the crowd. I knew he was with the American team, the visiting team. I could hear his voice from time to time, interrupted by the screaming players and the loud voice of the security guard who was yelling at the children who kept running across our soccer field. The voice was supporting us; it was saying “OBAMA, OBAMA, OBAMA.” That was the only time that I was sure about what Obama means in Cairo. For this child, it meant us, the DukeEngagers team, who came to teach them free of charge; we who modified the daily meal menu to make it better; we who came all the way to help them find their voice and place in this society. For this child, Obama meant hope and support; it meant taking him from the refugee lifestyle as we, the DukeEngagers, were trying to do.
