Faith and fun; can one have it all? Asef Bayat* writes on the nature of the "new" political Islam Understandably, the 11 September terrorist attacks in the USA have reinforced more than ever Western anxieties over the "threat" of "Islamic fundamentalism". The perpetrators' Islamic identity and the subsequent mass protests in the Muslim street during the US bombings of Afghanistan left little doubt that political Islam in the Middle East is here to stay. However, the picture conceals some significant changes that Islamism in the Middle East has been undergoing in recent years. There is a clear shift from the earlier emphasis on Islamist polity to one on personal piety and ethics; from constituencies centred around impoverished middle classes into more fragmented adherents including the privileged groups. Specificity of individual Muslim countries notwithstanding, there seems to be a change from Islamism as a political project with a contentious agenda into an active piety concerned with personal salvation and culture. Causes of this transformation are too complex to discuss here. At the risk of losing nuance, I only refer to some general trends including the crisis of Islamist rule where it was put into practice (as in Iran and Sudan), the failure of violent strategies (as in Egypt and Algeria), and the development of new visions about the Islamist project. The more belligerent Israeli policies (beginning with Benjamin Natanyahue and continuing with Ariel Sharon) supported largely by the US, have rendered external threat a more salient concern. The anti-Muslim sentiments in the West following 11 September have only reinforced this feeling of global menace. Consequently, Islamism as a political project with national concerns seems to be shifting into a more fragmented language concerned with both personal enhancement and global politics. Here, I concentrate on one aspect of change in Egyptian religious activism -- the popularity of a new genre of lay Muslim preachers. In particular, I focus on what is currently described in Egypt as the "phenomenon of Amr Khaled". As the most popular preacher since Sheikh Mohamed Metwalli El- Sha'rawi, Amr Khaled exemplifies a transformation of Islamism into a post-Islamist piety -- an active piety which is thick in rituals and scriptures and thin in politics. It is marked and framed by the taste and style of the rich, in particular, affluent youth and women; and sociologically underlies a Simmelian "fashion". Thus, the convergence of youth sub-culture, elitism, and a pietistic Islam have come together to produce this new genre of da'wa and its appeal. It has grown against a backdrop of a crisis of political Islam, and a profound stagnation in Egypt's intellectual and political landscape. Since 1990, Amr Khaled, an accountant turned-preacher, has become a household name in wealthy Cairo. Khaled followed the leads of fellow lay preachers Omar Abdel-Kafi and Khaled El-Guindy, but surpassed them in popularity amongst the well-to-do youth and women. A gifted orator in the style of a TV evangelist, he began by lecturing in private homes and exclusive social clubs, but soon rose to stardom at the pulpit of El-Hossari Mosque in the trendy Mohandesin, before he was forced by the authorities to move to 6th October City, a new posh community on outskirts of Cairo. His weekly lessons became spiritual journey for thousands of young people who flock from throughout the city's affluent districts to hear him. Crowds arrived hours in advance of the sermons to get a spot and filled the lecture halls, the surrounding streets and sidewalks often causing heavy traffic congestion. In 1999, Amr Khaled delivered up to 21 lessons a week in socially prominent households, peaking at 99 during Ramadan. The tapes of Amr Khaled's sermons became the unparalleled bestseller in Cairo's massive Book Fair in 2002, and travelled as far as the back-street markets of East Jerusalem, Beirut and the Persian Gulf cities. Although Khaled left for Britain to pursue a PhD after allegedly being stopped by the authorities to preach in Egypt, he has continued to communicate his message through satellite TV and Internet not only in the Arab world but also among Arab communities in Europe. The new preachers deliberately target youth and women of the elite classes, "the people with influence", because "they have the power to change things", according to El-Guindy. Since the elite families generally kept away from the traditional mosques located in the lower class areas, the young preachers brought their message to their doorsteps, to the comfort of their private homes, social clubs and the stylish mosques of their posh neighbourhoods. More importantly, in addition to face-to-face sermons, Amr Khaled, utilises a full range of media to disseminate his message including satellite TV channels such as Dream TV, Iqra'a and Orbit, the Internet with his state of the art Web site, and audio and videotapes -- media which particularly reaches the middle and more affluent classes. For some time the popular magazines, Al-Ahram Al-Iqtisadi and Al-Ahram Ar-Riyadi, distributed his tapes as gifts to readers. El-Guindy established a paid "Islamic Hotline" (hatif Al-Islami) to be used by the public to seek advice from the sheikh. Within the period of one year daily calls increased from 250 to one thousand. For his part, Amr Khaled travelled with his message to the stylish Agami and other upper middle class north coast resorts, and has more recently gone on speaking tours to Arab Gulf States where his fame had already spread. The colourful décor and a talk-show-like aura of his lecture halls, in contrast to the austere Azherite pulpits, reflect the taste of his main audience -- the 15-35 year old men and women who had never before been exposed to religious ideas in such an appealing and direct manner. Amr Khaled's style resembles that of his young, affluent audience -- cleanly shaven in blue jeans and polo shirts or in suit and necktie. Khaled simultaneously embodies the hipness of popular singer Amr Diab, the persuasion power of evangelist Billy Graham, and unsubtle therapy of Dr Phil, American popular talk-show host. For the young, Khaled, in the words of a female fan, is "the only preacher that embraces and tackles our spiritual needs", someone who "makes us psychologically comfortable", someone "who treats us like adults not children". Unlike more orthodox preachers known for their joyless moralising and austere methods, Khaled articulates a marriage of faith and fun. Speaking in a sympathetic tone, compassionate manner, and in colloquial Arabic, Khaled and his colleagues convey simple ethical messages about the moralities of everyday life, discussing issues that range from relationships, appearance, adultery, to posh restaurants, drunk driving, the hijab, and the sins of summer vacations in Marina. In a sense, the new preachers function as "public therapists" in a troubled society which shows little appreciation for professional psychotherapy. Emotional intensity, peace, and release (crying) often symbolise Khaled's sermons. From the likes of Khaled, the young hear the message that they can be religious and still live a normal life -- work, study, have fun and look like anyone else in society. More importantly his words assure the audience that they can be pious while maintaining their power and prestige. Khaled's message operates within the consumer culture of Egypt's nouveau riche where piety and privilege are made to cohabit as enduring partners. Analogous to the Methodist church of the well-to-do in the American bible belt where faith and fortune are happily conjoined, Khaled's style makes Egyptian rich feel good about their fortunes. Yet speaking with a tremendous force and conviction, the preachers are determined to make converts. They patiently offer detailed and practical guidelines for women, for instance, to take on the hijab. Thus, before long, many of their listeners begin to make visible changes in their lives -- veiling, putting on niqab (something on which Khaled does not insist), praying regularly in the mosques, and acquiring a new pious identity. El-Guindy has succeeded in converting the rich and famous, including female movie stars. Of course, adherence to religious ethics and search for spirituality are not new among Egyptian Muslims, including the wealthy youth. But theirs was a passive religious attachment. That is, as believers, they unquestioningly carried out their religious obligations. However, what seems to be novel (since the late 1990s) is that affluent families, the youth and women in particular, have begun to exhibit an active search for religious devotion, exhibiting an extraordinary quest for religious ideas and identity. Not only do they practise their faith, they also preach it, wanting others to believe and behave like them. Khaled is not a scholar or interpreter of Qur'an, and does not issue fatwas (religious edict). Rather he is devoted to correcting individuals' ethical values and everyday behaviour, fostering such values as humility, generosity, trust, loyalty, or repentance. Yet he is no liberal Muslim thinker either. Some of his ideas remain highly conservative, and his methods manipulative. Khaled advances a religious discourse which contains passion, clarity, relevance, and humour, but lacks novelty, nuance and vigour. While his style is highly imaginative, his theology remains deeply scriptural, with little perspective to historicise, to bring critical reason in interpretations. On the hijab, for instance, Khaled begins by grounding the "integrity of society .... on the integrity of women" and the latter on "her hijab". Because "one woman can easily entice one hundred men, but one hundred men cannot entice a single woman". Since, according to this logic, unveiled women are promoters of sin, a "complete, head to toe hijab is an obligation in Islam". The unconvinced Muslim women are not really Muslim, he claims, because Islam, in the literal terms, means simply "submission" to the words of God. "Even if you do not understand, you must obey," says Khaled. He leaves no room for debate and interpretations, because, for him, the issue is "totally clear". Such perception is not because he never studied at Al- Azhar. His doctrinal views hardly differ from those of orthodox Azharite sheikhs who dismiss him, despite and perhaps because of his immense popularity. Rather, in the current juncture in Egypt where religious thought in general possesses little sign of innovation (and this is testified by Islamic thinkers from Youssef El-Qaradawi to Selim El-Awa, to activist Essam El-Erian), Khaled appears an innovator, even though only in style. The mass appeal of the likes of Khaled is a byproduct of Egypt's mass education, one that valorises memorising, fragmenting knowledge, revering printed words, and nurturing authoritarian mentor. Compared to the patronising manner of a typical Azhari sheikh, the amiable and compassionate Khaled appears a true democrat. For those who have learnt to take easy short-cut ways to seek knowledge, those who are trained to be docile learners, Khaled emerges as superior source of wisdom. And in this, he is hardly different from the highly popular George Qerdahi (the slick presenter of MBC's popular game show, the Arabic Who Wants to be a Millionaire?) from whom the audience feels to gain true knowledge. "He is easy to understand," echoes what every young admirer of Khaled invariably expresses. Yet this new genre of da'wa is as much the initiative of the sermonisers as a response to the appeal of the increasingly globalising youths (and elite women). In a sense, Egyptian cosmopolitan youths fostered a new religious sub-culture -- one which is expressed in a distinctly novel style, taste, language and the message. It resonates the aversion of these young from patronising pedagogy and moral authority. These globalising youth display many seemingly contradictory orientations. They are religious believers, but distrust political Islam if they know anything about it; they swing back and forth from Amr Diab to Amr Khaled, from partying to prayers, and yet they feel the burden of a strong social control of their elders, teachers, and neighbours. As Egyptian young are socialised in a cultural condition and educational tradition which often restrain individuality and novelty, they are compelled to assert them in a "social way", through "fashion". Thus, from the prism of youth, this religious sub-culture (ideas, emotions, and identities) galvanised around the "phenomenon of Amr Khaled" is partly an expression of "fashion" in Simmelian sense, in the sense of an outlet that facilitates a simultaneous fulfilment of the contradictory human tendencies: change and adaptation, difference and similarity, individuality and social norms. Adherence to active piety permits the Egyptian young to assert their individuality and undertake change, and yet remain committed to collective norms and social equalisation. In the social juncture in Egypt characterised by the decline of organised Islamism, intellectual stagnation and political closure, Khaled ingeniously took his da'wa literally to the sitting rooms of his audience. By doing so, Khaled and his colleagues became catalysts for a gradual shift in Egyptian religious politics. * The writer is professor of Sociology and Middle East Studies at the American University in Cairo. The author is grateful to Dalia Mustafa for her contribution to this article.
