In Egypt, Religious Clashes Are Off the Record
By Michael Slackman
1/31/2010 Egypt (New York Times) – State security agents wearing black uniforms and armed with automatic weapons stood guard at the entrance to this small city. Armored personnel carriers and rows of boxy troop carriers parked along the main road. Local police officers and the secret police patrolled nearly every block, on foot and in vans.
People were scared, and the police were edgy. “We want you to leave; you must have special permission to be here,” Gen. Mahmoud Gohar, head of security for the region, said as he slapped his hands together and demanded that reporters leave town, immediately.
A few weeks ago, on the day that Coptic Christians celebrate Christmas Eve, a Muslim gunman opened fire on worshipers as they walked out of church, killing 7, wounding 10 and leading to the worst sectarian violence between Muslims and Christians in Egypt in years. In the days that followed, there were riots and clashes. Stores were wrecked. Homes were burned.
“We are now facing a sectarian society and street,” wrote Amr el-Shoubky, a political analyst and columnist, in an article under the headline “The New Sectarianism: The Alienation of Christians,” which appeared in the daily newspaper Al Masry al-Youm.
But local people, commentators, members of Parliament, Christian and Muslim alike, say that the government’s narrow view of the shooting ignores an underlying tension that is roiling society all across Egypt, where an estimated 10 percent of the population of about 80 million is Christian. No matter the gunman’s motive, the attack and subsequent clashes and riots have underscored the religious divide.
“Those calling it an individual crime were not able to explain until now why there was shooting on a group of people leaving church at the time of a big religious celebration, which left six Copts dead,” wrote Salama Ahmed Salama, who is in charge of the editorial board of Shorouk, a daily independent newspaper. “And what was the real motive, especially that the man who committed the crime is among the thugs and hit men, and not from the religiously extreme?”
The group outside the warehouse slowly acknowledged that there was little mingling in Nag Hammadi. “We are separated,” said Essam Atef, 32, a Christian who manages the pharmaceutical business. “If there is a wedding, you offer congratulations, and if there is someone sick, you might visit, but we are both on our own here.”
