Our delegation met in an austere church office in Cairo, tucked away on a back ally, in 2010. Worried about Hosni Mubarak's ever-present and oppressive state security, our hosts asked we remove our cell phone batteries and place everything in a separate room to avoid eavesdropping. And we sat watching a grown man cry, struggling to speak amid tears.
By the world's standards, the gentleman was of no significance. A day laborer, divorced, struggling to take care of his daughter. But his conversion from Islam to Christianity had upended his life, despite providing spiritual comfort and direction. He felt hunted by friends, family, and the state. Extremist violence against Coptic Christians was increasingly common in Egypt, but he bore even greater risks to his life for leaving one faith to join another.
The Christian convert wept because he had no place to run. He feared losing custody of his daughter and was terrified of going to jail. He was not welcome in his country. Extremists would make his life hell or end it. Eventually, he found a way to claim asylum in Europe. He had a well-founded fear of persecution because of his beliefs, a requirement for asylum abroad. He found safety, but Egypt lost something when he and his daughter fled.
His story was an example of how, over decades, the environment for free thought has closed for Egyptians. For years, extreme voices both inside and outside Egypt have spoken against those leaving Islam, using violent rhetoric and threatening death. Being labeled an "apostate" could lead to severe problems, and it was not only non-Muslims who could be marked. Anthropologist Saba Mahmood noted how secular governance in the Middle East in general and Egypt in particular had made life worse—not better—for religious minorities. “[R]eligious difference has proliferated and metastasized in modern Egypt even as its raison d’etat secularized.”
Consequently, reformers within Islam, too, can run afoul of extremists. A researcher at the acclaimed Al-Azhar University in Cairo, arguably the leading Sunni religious education establishment for the past 1,000 years, was labeled by its president as an "apostate" and fined for merely questioning traditional Islamic interpretations. In contrast, Al-Azhar’s leadership decided against labeling ISIS as apostates, despite their death cult and mass rape.
Years later, after the events of the Arab Spring and the coming to power of a new general in Egypt, I met in 2016 with Pope Tawadros II in Cairo at the seat of the Coptic Orthodox Church. A jovial man, his demeanor changed when discussing contemporary Egyptian society. He lamented how schools failed to teach children to appreciate differences, which contributed to increasing extremism. Having just seen the pocket-marked church walls, left from a suicide bomber's blast just weeks before, made his point even more powerfully. The Pope painfully understood how the growth of extremism shrank the space for differing ideas and the individuals who hold them. It was a problem for the majority and minorities. Other vulnerable groups in Egypt, for instance, included atheists, agnostics, and other minorities like the Jewish remnant and newer Baha'is.
The authoritarian nature of Egyptian governance over decades fostered an environment for violent extremism. Strongmen simultaneously outlawed radical groups but promoted laws favored by them to curry support, thus imposing the extremists' views over the entire society that limited freedom of conscience and belief. The result was less diversity of thought and a larger space for extremists to turn society away from their historic vision of tolerance and inclusion.
Egypt is but one example of extremist-driven cultural climate change, which Chapter Six will examine. Much like human activity causes rising sea levels and melting ice caps, radical voices can fundamentally alter environments once habitable for religious minorities and pluralism. The threat of cultural climate change is not limited to any region, culture, or faith. But one thing is certain: restoring a social ecosystem conducive to pluralism will take time, much like a toxic waste spill takes decades to remove. Failing to respond to cultural climate change can transform society in profoundly adverse ways, difficult to unwind or restore.
What is Extremism? Different nations and societies all experience cultural climate change from extremism. However, four common characteristics accelerate cultural climate change due to extremism: unchecked extreme religious voices, a strongman needing to shore up support, creation of a threat or scapegoat, and a climate of impunity. The exact proportion of each element varies, and each feed off the other. But when all are present, they create a toxic sludge that will kill a religiously diverse environment.
But first, what is extremism? Webster's dictionary defines it as "advocacy of extreme measures or views: RADICALISM.” “Fanaticism” is a synonym, describing “a person exhibiting excessive enthusiasm and intense uncritical devotion toward some controversial matter (as in religion or politics).” In and of itself, extremism is not necessarily bad. Fanatical devotion to sports is why many football “fans" could be labeled an extremist or radical.
However, the stakes are much higher outside of sports. Because of definitional issues, government efforts have struggled to combat extremism. Often, the situational nature makes it hard to define. A Malaysian human rights advocate succinctly stated the issue: “What is considered ‘extremism’ is therefore dependent on what constitutes ‘mainstream.’” Problems begin when one individual or group refuses to allow others to hold different beliefs. As Senator Robert Kennedy said, “What is dangerous about extremists is not that they are extreme but that they are intolerant. The evil is not what they say about their cause, but what they say about their opponents.” Once this kind of extremism takes root, violence can quickly follow. If extremists believe their views are right and just, even divinely appointed, every action is justifiable, including murder.
In many hot spots for religious persecution, the environment where competing beliefs can peacefully coexist and compete has slowly shrunk due to extremist pressure. When extreme viewpoints take root, a climate of impunity opens, with violence from neighbors or the state physically and permanently silence people. The inhospitality towards new ideas can transform the environment into a barren monoculture guarded by actual or voluntary police. A vicious cycle of destructive thought accelerates a decline in human rights.
(excerpted from chapter 7)
