When a live bullet killed senior Al-Azhar scholar Emad Effat during protests on Friday a new revolutionary icon was born, writes Amira Howeidy Fifty-two year old Emad Effat, head of the written fatwa (religious edict) section of Dar Al-Ifta, was killed by a live bullet on Friday 16 December. He was hit while standing at the Tahrir Square entrance to Qasr Al-Aini Street as the army was attacking a sit-in protesting the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces' (SCAF) appointment of Kamal El-Ganzouri -- who worked with Hosni Mubarak for two decades -- as prime minister. An autopsy conducted the following day revealed Effat died as a result of a live bullet penetrating both his lungs and heart then exiting his body. A detailed autopsy report will be issued within two weeks and then referred to the prosecution which is expected to order an investigation. Eight others were killed by live ammunition, but it was Effat's death that dominated much of the debate surrounding this week's clashes in central Cairo that left at least 14 protesters dead. His image replaced countless personal profile pictures across social websites in an echo of the "We are all Khaled Said" Facebook page which has over 1.8 million members and served as one of the catalysts of the 25 January demonstrations that led to the toppling of president Hosni Mubarak. A day after his funeral at Al-Azhar Mosque graffiti depicting the smiling, bespectacled Sheikh appeared on a wall near the spot where he was killed in Qasr Al-Aini Street. But the significance of Effat's death goes beyond the immediate popularity of his image on social media. His sudden prominence challenges the stereotypes manufactured by local and Western media on who Egypt's "revolutionaries" really are. Following Mubarak's ouster on 11 February, the dominant narrative was of a revolution made by Facebook groups and virtual activists, bilingual, middle class youths who summoned the millions that brought down Mubarak on the keyboards of their computers. It was in this context that Wael Ghoneim, one of the administrators of the "We are all Khaled Said" Facebook page, a Google employee who was arrested at the start of the revolution then released before Mubarak was overthrown, shot to international fame as a symbol of the revolt against the regime. It was a narrative that left no room for the real story of how Egyptians from all age groups and social backgrounds took part in opposing the regime. Sheikh Emad Effat wasn't a 20-something activist Tweeting away. He issued fatwas for a living. Because of the importance of religion in matters related to everyday life only a scholar of Islamic jurisprudence is qualified to exercise such a role. Sheikh Effat issued general written fatwas and was lately head of the newly formed department in the Dar Al-Ifta dealing with financial issues. With degrees in Arabic language, Islamic Sharia, and Islamic jurisprudence, Effat -- who was also a poet -- was qualified for the role. He also taught Islamic jurisprudence and Arabic language at Al-Azhar Mosque for seven years. His scholarship was distinguished for its alignment with the Azharite -- a centrist -- school of Islam. Perhaps more importantly, his independent political views and support for the oppressed often placed him on a collision course with the establishment of which he was part. Until its nationalisation by Gamal Abdel-Nasser in 1961 Al-Azhar, Sunni Islam's oldest institution, enjoyed relative independence. But decades of state control inevitably affected its reputation. It has been increasingly viewed as part and parcel of the establishment, and its position on sensitive political and religious issues never deviated from the regime's line. The Sheikh of Al-Azhar and the Grand Mufti (who heads Dar Al-Ifta, which is officially affiliated to the Ministry of Justice) are presidential appointees. Effat maintained a low profile, shunning the celebrity televangelism of dozens of Islamic preachers. It is ironic that in death he has become a national figure. Following Effat's murder TV talk shows shed light on the maverick Sheikh. He was present just before sunset on 16 December at the cabinet sit-in, which was being attacked by the military. He was not, as statements rushed out by Dar Al-Ifta claimed, passing by. Nor did he go to talk the protesters out of their sit-in. He was present because he supported the protesters' action -- a fact that defies official discourse that describes the protesters as thugs and vagrants. Effat had been a regular in Tahrir Square since the start of the revolution. According to his wife, Al-Ahram Weekly journalist Nashwa Abdel-Tawwab, he participated in almost every sit-in and demonstration because he couldn't "bear the thought of abandoning anyone who was suffering injustice". "He would go to Tahrir after work, but only after changing into regular clothes instead of his Al-Azhar garb," says Nashwa, where he would join thousands of others calling for an end to military rule. During the seven days of deadly fighting in Mohamed Mahmoud Street in late November Effat remained at the site of the clashes in solidarity with the protesters. Effat's death has embarrassed the authorities. He was killed by gunshot wounds, indirectly implicating the military which denies firing at protesters. When, at his funeral, the preacher announced into the microphone that "we don't know who killed the Sheikh" the attending crowds chanted back "the people want the execution of Tantawi" -- the head of SCAF and Egypt's de facto ruler. The funeral passed peacefully, but there was no mistaking the anti-SCAF sentiments of the thousands who attended. Ibrahim El-Hodaibi, a political researcher on Islamic movements and one of Effat's disciples, described the scene as "a manifestation" of the battle between the Grand Mufti Ali Gomaa's state- aligned school and Effat's which advocates "liberation from the Sultan" or the ruler. While Effat's wife, Nashwa, wanted the funeral to begin from Tahrir Square, Gomaa decreed that it would be at Al-Azhar. Gomaa was eager to avoid what Nashwa wanted, to allow her late husband to take a final farewell of the place he loved most, and the revolutionaries among whom he died. Nashwa later told the only TV talk show on which she appeared that whenever Effat issued a fatwa relating to politics Gomaa would retract it. Nor was Effat popular with Mubarak's state security stooges. According to El-Hodaibi, they had pressured Gomaa to fire Effat because of his pro-Palestinian activities which long before the revolution included participating in solidarity demonstrations. Effat issued a fatwa ahead of the ongoing parliamentary elections prohibiting voting for Mubarak loyalists. His wife and some of his disciples suspect that he was deliberately targeted. No eyewitness information is available on how Effat was shot at close range. A statement by his family released on 17 December vowed to seek justice and "follow his path" in "liberating Egypt". "He's been praying for 30 years to die a shaheed, a martyr," says Nashwa. "He got what he wanted and I'm happy for that. I miss him greatly." Effat is survived by four children.
