In early 2011, Egyptians calling for “bread, freedom and social justice” took to the streets to protest the 30-year authoritarian rule of Hosni Mubarak. Jan. 25 marks the 15th anniversary of the Egyptian uprising and the first taste of democracy in Egypt following Mubarak’s subsequent resignation Feb. 11.
Michigan State University Assistant Professor Nareman Amin’s research focuses on contemporary Islam including religious authority, political participation and Muslim youth culture. Amin lived in Cairo, Egypt, when the uprising first began in 2011 and interviewed young Muslim Egyptians in 2018 and 2019 in the aftermath. These interviews are the basis of her book, “Is God for Revolution: Affect, Youth and Islam in Post-2011 Egypt,” which will be released in print Jan. 22 through Oxford University Press.
According to Amin, the revolution gave Egyptians a wider space to explore political opportunities, religious participation and social conventions, but it was temporary. The first democratically elected president of Egypt, Mohamed Morsi, was deposed within a year of his election and his loyalists were massacred in public squares in Cairo. Since 2014, Egypt has been ruled by Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, a retired military officer who led the coup to overthrow Morsi; the coup and his presidency effectively ended the democratic experiment that began 15 years ago.
Here, Amin examines the religious changes during and after the Egyptian revolution and the resulting experiences of young Muslim Egyptians since the movement began in 2011.
Hosni Mubarak was the dictator in power for 30 years and, within 18 days of protest in Egypt, Mubarak resigned. Those first few moments — that was the first taste of democracy.
Egyptians were arm in arm across religious lines, gender lines and class lines. There were people who would not have necessarily talked to each other in other situations in life coming together for a political, social and economic reason.
It really was the first time that there was this wrinkle in time, this wrinkle in space, where people were able to come together for a united cause in the interest of their country. We don’t see much of this national unity in Egypt today unless the national team is competing in an international soccer tournament.
There were various factors that held some people back from protesting at the time. There was this question of whether it is sanctioned in a religious tradition to rebel against the ruler. Respected religious leaders, both Muslim and Christian, were on TV saying that rebelling against the ruler is a sin even if the ruler is unjust.
There was also a generational aspect of the protests in Egypt. The younger people in their 20s and 30s were more likely to join these protests and support them, whereas their parents and grandparents very much wanted the stability and security that the authoritarian regime was peddling.
Among the young Muslim Egyptians I interviewed, I was surprised that people weren’t as affected by those televised pronouncements from religious leaders like I was. Overall, they saw joining the protests as the right thing to do. They did see it as a fight for social justice, and they believed it was sanctioned by their understanding of Islam.
Obedience to parents is the second-best thing in the sight of God in Islam, according to a Prophetic tradition, or hadith. It’s so important to be respectful to your parents and obey them. That was a point of contention for many of my interviewees, especially for the women who did want to join the protest, did want to play a part in the social movement, and their parents would prevent them from doing so. Sometimes they would disobey them and leave the house against their wishes.
In Egypt, it isn’t normal or expected for people in college to start questioning things like it is for someone in the U.S. The Egyptian youth I interviewed did go to college, many to expensive Western universities, but they generally would meet people who were similar to them. They didn’t have a change of heart during college, but the revolution was a big reason why they did start to question things.
In this temporary hiatus, people were able to ask questions about religion that they hadn’t been able to ask before and to be in spaces with people who have different religious viewpoints that they might not have considered or not have had the freedom to talk about.
Across the board, the young Egyptians I interviewed all started questioning the Muslim beliefs and practices they grew up with. Their focus became less on the physical aspects of Islam and more about their internal belief and relationship to God, so whatever drew them closer to God spiritually.
People’s understanding of what it meant to be a good Muslim shifted to one that’s more internal, introspective and less about appearance, the rituals and physical aspects. There was also this increased interest among young Muslims in Sufism or mystical Islam, which was interesting to see.
There was a state of euphoria and hopefulness once Mubarak fell after that initial 18 days of protest, but this was a nascent democracy.
In 2012, there was the first democratic presidential election. For a lot of people, this was the first time they cast a ballot, so it was exciting. No one knew what outcome any of the referenda or the elections that we had to vote on would yield. Temporarily, there was this political hiatus where anything politically was possible, socially as well.
It was split 50-50 between one of Mubarak’s former ministers and Mohamed Morsi, a member of the Muslim Brotherhood, so it was the old guard versus the political opposition that’s been the underdog for almost a century, and the underdogs won. Unfortunately, Morsi’s rule was inept and within the span of a year, the military overthrew him and suggested they had popular support.
The way Morsi was removed was a big problem for the Egyptians I interviewed. The country was divided over Muslim Brotherhood rule, but the military decided to forcefully remove people who had staged sit-ins in two squares in Cairo, and they killed hundreds of people in those sit-ins.
It was such a moment of moral reckoning because you had Egyptians who fully supported the military in its decision to kill people — men, children, women, elderly — who were at these sit-ins. And that, for a lot of people, meant the end of democracy, the end of the democratic experiment.
When I spoke to my interviewees in 2018 and 2019, the massacre was a very difficult topic for them to talk about, but they also felt it was cathartic. This massacre and some people’s support for it led to a huge schism socially in Egypt that still has remnants to this day.