Berkley Center

However, I arrived in Cairo at an historic period. A time in which all sites I had read about in travel guides—the pyramids, the Egyptian museums, the old souks—were unseeable due to the curfew. It was also a time during which all the preconceptions I had learned about in class—Egypt’'s lack of civil society, apathetic citizens, sectarian violence—were inapplicable due to the protests.

The people are now empowered and have taken to streets, prepared to give their lives for the cause. The movement is uniting all—Muslim, Christian, rich, poor, old, and young—they all want Mubarak out.

On the day I attended the protests, Saturday, January 29, camaraderie filled the air. While the National Democratic Party building emitted clouds of black smoke in front of us, on the ground people were unified: chanting in unison, helping each other make banners, and handing Coke cans to soldiers who stood on army tanks.

Ask any political scientists and they will tell you that the protests were markedly secular. However, I attributed at least some part of the unity to the “ummah”. Ummah is an Arabic word, which means “community,” and in Islam it used to describe the Muslim community. The religion encourages helping your Muslim brothers and sisters who are in need.

The Muslim ummah encompasses a diverse body of people. There are around 50 Muslim countries and around 1.4 billion Muslims in the world. Their histories, customs, and cultures are therefore very different. However, during my unexpected travels I have found some cultural similarities that perhaps stem from religion. There was a mandatory evacuation of all Georgetown students from Cairo; from there we were flown to Doha, Qatar, and at the end of this week I will fly to Istanbul, Turkey to finish my semester.

Between these three very different nations, cultural similarities are bountiful. The charm and friendliness of the people is welcoming and prevalent in all countries. In both Doha and Cairo even after a brief conversation in a short taxi ride, the driver would say “"Ma’salama habibi,"” which means “"Good-bye, darling”." Likewise, I have already been shown Egyptian, Qatari, and Turkish hospitality when I ate feasts at the behest of people who I only knew through another friend. I also dealt with the three countries' more unflattering similarities when I had to manage with their inefficient bureaucracies.

So, if Islam is calling for the Muslim world to help each other out, if the cultural similarities are so compelling, and if the average citizen of these countries is so open to the stranger, then I must ask, "Where is the ummah, ya habibi?"

When I arrived in Doha straight from Cairo, I suffered from immediate culture shock. I had left my beloved grimy streets overcrowded by Pharaoh cats and incessant honking, only to be replaced by perfectly kept wide streets driven on by SUVs. I was overwhelmed by the exuberance of wealth. On February 1 I went to a shisha bar in Doha to watch Mubarak’'s address in response to the protests. While my friends and I crowded around the TV screen to hone in, Qataris sat nonchalantly at their tables donned in their head dresses and white dress paying no mind to the history that was unfolding before them.

I followed up with one of the professors at Georgetown'’s School of Foreign Service-Qatar, who told me that the concept of the ummah is unable to reach fruition because of national pride. Qataris, and most Arabs, are an intensely national people. This is exemplified by the mere fact that it is impossible to attain Qatari citizenship unless you prove ethnic origin or unless you are woman marrying a Qatari citizen. This law allows guest workers, from predominantly India, Vietnam, and the Philippines, who make up 75 percent of the population, to live in abject poverty and with little rights; some compare their situation to modern day slavery. Moreover, many of these guest workers are Muslim, which further questions the concept of ummah.

I wonder if Turkey will be any different in my search for the ummah since the secular state tends to further itself from anything related to its Muslim identity.

My concern of the ummah is not meant to assume that Muslims should only help themselves and their own community. Rather my question is one that arises from the Muslim world’'s contemporary political situation. With Tunisia’'s successful revolution, now Egypt’'s demonstrations, and with Lebanon and Jordan in the works, it is evident that this is a decisive time in history for the Muslim world as a whole. It is important for Muslim states around the world to understand the significance of these demonstrations and take another look at what the ummah means for themselves and for their Muslim brethren.