In an interview with Dream TV back in December 2012, Essam
el-Erian, a high-ranking Muslim Brotherhood official, remarked that Egyptian
Jews—the absolute majority of whom have been exiled in Israel and the West for more
than five decades—should return to their country of origin. He asserted that
every émigré, regardless of religious orientation, has the right to return to
Egypt, specifically urging Egyptians Jews to abandon the “brutal, bloody, and
racist” state of Israel and “make way for the Palestinian people.”
For those unfamiliar with the
region’s history, it may come as a surprise to learn that Egypt—and the broader
Arab world—once hosted a thriving, enterprising, and diverse Jewish community
of both native and foreign origins. Jews constituted an integral part of the
cultural, ethnic, and religious mosaic that characterized Egypt in the first half
of the twentieth century. Cosmopolitan centers such Cairo and Alexandria in
particular constituted the nuclei of Jewish life. Up until their expulsion in the wake of the
1956 Suez Crisis, Egyptian Jews were represented in all sectors of society, including
the likes of journalist Yaqub Sanu, former Minister of Finance Joseph Cattaui,
and legendary songstress Leila Mourad.
Observers, however, should
not interpret Erian’s remarks as any genuine attempt to reconcile with Egypt’s
exiled Jews. Nor should they be taken as any indicator of the Brotherhood’s
evolving worldview regarding the place of non-Muslims in the uma, or Islamic nation, more
generally. Any such prognosis fails to
recognize the truly anti-Semitic—and anti-plural—history of the Muslim
Brotherhood and its early theoreticians. Erian is fully aware that Egyptians Jews—who have achieved remarkable
success and equal citizenship in their adopted lands—are unlikely to return to
a country that is still struggling with the concept of religious tolerance, not
to mention one that is now governed by a party that believes in the supremacy
of one belief system over all others. Anyone doubting the Brotherhood’s duplicity
need only consider the government’s recent decision to discontinue the modest stipend granted annually to Egypt’s near
extinct Jewish community.
Regrettably, Erian’s remarks
were likely prompted with far less noble intentions in mind. The Brotherhood is cognizant that US
financial assistance—amounting to well over $1 billion annually—hinges on
Egypt’s ongoing commitment to peace in the region. For years, Western pundits speculated—and with
good reason—that the Muslim Brotherhood would abrogate Egypt’s 1979 peace
agreement with Israel if ever it found itself in a position of authority. Erian’s calls for repatriation was undoubtedly
aimed to mitigate the Brotherhood’s anti-Israel credentials and, by extension, its
image as a movement intolerant of religious minorities. This sham attempt at
presenting a veneer of religious accommodation is all the more devious
considering the Islamist-led government is pressing forward with policies that,
by their very design, alienate and marginalize Coptic Christians, the country’s
largest and most significant minority population. Sadly, not since Muhammad Ali’s reign in the
1800s has an Egyptian ruler sought to make religious equality a cornerstone of
their national agenda.
If Erian or any other member
of government is sincerely interested in making amends with Egyptian Jews, they
will have to discuss the prospects of restitution, which is a far meaningful
concern of Egyptian Jews than the issue of repatriation. André Aciman, a professor of comparative
literature at the City University of New York and an Alexandrian by birth and
early upbringing, expressed this sentiment in an op-ed penned
after US President Barack Obama’s historic speech to the Muslim world in Cairo
in 2009. Aciman asserted that Jewish
assets in Egypt had been illegally sequestered, including his father’s factory,
his mother’s house, and other irrecoverable belongings.
Arguably more important than both repatriation
and restitution, however, is the issue of recognition. That is, the Egyptian state has yet to
officially recognize the travesty that was the expulsion of its Jewish
population. By extension, there is
little awareness or recognition of Jewish contributions to the modern Egyptian
state. While various members of the intelligentsia have tried to engender a constructive debate on the history and
dispersion of Egyptian Jewry, the state has made little such attempt and shows
no signs of doing so in in the near future. Egyptian history textbooks make few references to the presence and
participation of Jews in Egyptian social, political, and economic life, yet
alone the details of their forced departure and exile. There is, regrettably, an entire generation
of Egyptians that is completely unaware that their country once boasted of a
well-integrated and sizeable Jewish population.
In 2008, Egyptians flocked to
nearby theaters to watch the summer blockbuster Hassan and Murqus, a film that explored the theme of Coptic-Muslim
relations in contemporary Egypt. Viewers
may not have realized that the film was preceded by the 1954 classic, Hassan
and Murqus and Cohen, which in addition, depicted the interplay of Egypt’s Jewish presence at the time. Egyptian Jews are unquestionably Egyptian and
should have the right to return to their country of origin—if they so choose—as
equal citizens of the state. Erian’s
call for repatriation, however, should not be read as any sincere overture to
this community in exile or the beginning of any meaningful rapprochement.