Berkley Center

My experience in Egypt has opened my eyes to a radically different and beautiful, though sometimes tumultuous, interpretation of the role of religion in daily life. Studying in Egypt made me realize that religion is as much about identity and community as theology. As a country that has had full independence for less than a century, Egypt still struggles to determine the foundations of its nationality. Egyptians want to see their country develop, but it is unclear what political and social changes are necessary to ensure stability and increased prosperity in a rapidly changing global environment.

As a result of such changes and pressures, one can see outward signs of religiosity growing amongst the population. The number of Muslim women donning the hijab has skyrocketed, even in the last ten years. In a conversation with an Egyptian-American friend from home, he described it to me this way: “"When I would visit in the '‘90s, you couldn’'t tell the difference between Muslim and Christian women. Now, if I see a woman who is not wearing a hijab, I know she’'s Christian.”" The most interesting point for me in all of this is the source of the foreign influence. The increasingly common event of women donning the hijab comes as much from Saudi influence as it does from a reaction to Western influence. I had thought of the two nations, Egypt and Saudi Arabia, as on opposite ends of the political continuum in the Middle East. But politics aside, the Saudis clearly have incredible sway over the popular religious views in Egypt.

The religious majority has responded to a modernizing international order by fighting to maintain their Islamic identity. This increased religiosity has in turn has a strong impact on the religious minorities in Egypt. Coptic Christians being the largest single religious minority, their response is most prevalent. Many choose to tattoo a cross on their wrists as a sign of solidarity with their brothers in faith; the cross serves as a permanent reminder that, no matter what happens, they can never hide their true identity. I have had many conversations with complete strangers in which, as soon as the necessary greetings are done, he or she blurts out, “"I'’m a Christian!"” as they recognize my French Huguenot cross. It seems important to them to acknowledge that we are share a common religion. One taxi driver was so excited that I, an American Christian girl, was in Egypt learning Arabic, he gave me two small icons he carried around in his wallet after showing me the tattoo on his wrist as proof.

Both Muslims and Christians view these outward signs as a form of distinguishing themselves from one another, but these marks also serve as reminders of one strong commonality between the devout religious populations of Egypt. Both groups feel the need to struggle to maintain their identity in a torrent of foreign influence. The devout feel threatened by the rapid pace of change in society that seems to be constantly pushing them towards Western, secular values. Naturally, people want the heightened quality of life offered by modernity, but no one wants to lose sight of what is important in the process. No matter what the promises of development, no devout person wants to lose that fundamental part of life that brings her closer to her Creator.