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Amr
Khaled vs Yusuf Al Qaradawi:
The Danish Cartoon Controversy and the Clash of Two Islamic
TV Titans
By Lindsay Wise
(A version
of this article first appeared as a guest post on Marc Lynch’s
blog Abu Aardvark.)
In March 2006, two of Egypt's most famous expat TV preachers
faced off over the best way to deal with the Danish cartoons
lampooning the Prophet Muhammad. Amr Khaled, a 38-year-old former
accountant-turned-megastar "tele-Islamist," supported
reaching out to non-Muslims by organizing a conference on East-West
coexistence and dialogue in Copenhagen. "There are extremists
everywhere, on both sides, Muslim and Danish," Khaled said
at a press event announcing the conference. "They're pushing
us toward isolation. Let me ask you, young Muslims: Do you want
Muslims isolated from the world community, or do you want to
coexist with each other?" His initiative was supported
by prominent religious figures like Kuwaiti Tareq Alsuwaidan,
Yemini Habib Ali and even Al Azhar's mufti Ali Gomaa, a new
(and Egyptian government-sanctioned) ally for Khaled.
But when Khaled consulted Youssef Al Qaradawi about the conference,
the 79-year-old cleric warned the younger man that the time
was not right for dialogue. As long as the Danish government
refused to apologize, he argued, such a conciliatory gesture
would be seen as a weakness. Instead, Qaradawi said, Muslims
should use the rage provoked by the cartoon to unify the Ummah
so they can approach those who insult Islam from a position
of strength. "You have to have a common ground to have
a dialogue with your enemy," Qaradawi said on Al Jazeera,
where he is a regular guest on the religious fatwa program Sharia
and Life. "But after insulting what is sacred to me, they
should apologize." (1)
With Qaradawi publicly giving Khaled a dressing down, other
commentators joined the fray. Moderate Islamist columnist Fahmy
Howeidy, a longtime fan and defender of Khaled, said the young
preacher was out of his league and was not authorized or experienced
enough to speak for Muslims on the cartoon issue. Howeidy also
complained the media limelight on Khaled's initiative would
upstage the proposals of more weighty groups like the World
Islamic Conference. Another of Khaled's old fans in Egypt even
told me he felt like Khaled's visit to Denmark reminded him
of Egyptian President Anwar Sadat's trip to Tel Aviv in 1977,
and Al Sharq Al Awsat columnist Mshari Al Zaydi echoed
the ominous comparison in his own essay about the Khaled-Qaradawi
feud: "Like the words of Amal Dunqul in her poem to assassinated
Egyptian president Sadat, that warned him not to sign a peace
treaty with Israel, Qaradawi repeats this warning to Amr Khaled:
'Do not make peace.'"
It's not the first time Khaled has found himself on the defensive,
but this time even some of his former supporters say they fear
he's headed down the path of an "Arab traitor" by
attempting to make "a separate peace" with the enemies
of Islam. They and other critics say his Western-friendly approach
grates against mainstream Muslim opinion, even as diehard Khaled
fans rush to his defense. "I loved the idea of the Denmark
conference, and I don't know any of Amr Khaled's admirers who
don't," Riham el-Demerdash a 35-year-old veiled mother
of three told the Associated Press in Cairo. "Those who
are against the conference are those who don't like Amr in the
first place -- or are clerics who are jealous." (2) So
what happened? Is Khaled really out of touch? Is he in over
his head? Or is Khaled right when he says he speaks for the
moderate "silent majority" of Muslims? Is Qaradawi
just jealous and is his spat with Khaled evidence of a tussle
for authority between the new "tele-Islamists" and
the old-school clerics?
First of all, it's important to understand a key distinction.
Khaled has a huge following, particularly among Arab youth and
women, but he is not a cleric like Qaradawi and never claimed
to be, never gave any fatwas (religious rulings) or sought to
present himself as a scholar or sheikh. Khaled is and always
has been a da'iya, loosely translated as a lay preacher or missionary.
Theoretically, every Muslim has a duty to promote da'wa
(calling others to Islam) and a da'iya (caller) therefore
does not necessarily have to be an alim, or scholar,
like Qaradawi, who went through the rigorous traditional training
in fiqh and Quranic interpretation. Predictably, though,
Khaled has always been criticized by his detractors for being
a well-spoken but lightweight amateur-"a marketer of Islam
lite." I dug up this rather dismissive comment from an
interview with Qaradawi himself on Khaled in a 2004 edition
of TBS:
TBS: Amr
Khaled is without question an extremely popular TV preacher,
especially with modern educated youth. Why? And what is your
opinion of his message, his manner, and his qualifications?
Qaradawi: Amr Khaled does not hold any qualifications
to preach. He is a business school graduate who acquired what
he knows from reading and who got his start by way of conversations
with friends about things that do not really involve any particular
thought or judgment. Like the program Nalqa al-Ahibba
(Let Us Meet the Beloved) for instance. The whole thing is about
the Companions of the Prophet and heroes of Islam, popular stories,
especially amongst the young. What makes him even more attractive
to youth is that he is young like them, clean shaven, in regular
Western attire, and he speaks in simple language. This has attracted
an audience to him, especially as he got his start in Egypt,
and Egyptians are drawn to religious discourse. He appeared
at a time when people were serious about these matters to a
certain extent and there was no one else on the scene. The well-known
scholars and preachers were all outside of Egypt, so the stage
was set, and he struck while the iron was hot, as the saying
goes. People here and there accept him, but he has never issued
a fatwa or a legal judgment. Maybe that has helped him.
Of course, the same "simple" style that Qaradawi sniffs
at is exactly what a lot of people like about Khaled -- that
he's easy to understand and charismatic and makes Islam cool.
Many people who would find Qaradawi's more traditional sermonizing
boring are electrified by Amr Khaled's preaching. It is why
he is able to reach so many people who previously resisted or
ignored the pull of the regional Islamic revival because they
considered religion boring, or backwards or perilously entangled
in politics. Before the rise of Khaled and other "new preachers"
(many of them, like Alsuwaidan and Habib Ali, were present in
Copenhagen), there were few high-profile models for globalized
Arab youth looking for a moderate, modern Muslim identity. Using
a down-to-earth colloquial Egyptian dialect, Khaled offered
his audiences a user-friendly way to Islamize their Westernized
lifestyles without surrendering too much: yes, you should pray
five times a day, but you don't have to grow a beard; yes, women
should wear hijab, but there's no reason they shouldn't work
outside the home; yes, sexy video clips are bad for your soul,
but listening to music or watching video clips is not haram
as long as the subject matter isn't sexually provocative. Now
Khaled is trying to walk the same tightrope politically and
finding it a harder trick to master. Why?
It's interesting that the criticisms of him over the conference
mirror the criticisms of him as a da'iya -- that he
is not an expert or cleric and therefore not sanctioned (in
some peoples' minds) to speak about Islam with authority. Even
Khaled himself noted the connection. “As an accountant
I was similarly advised not to work in preaching,” Khaled
explained in Al Ahram Weekly interview about the conference
criticism. “So with due respect to (my critics) -- from
whom I would like to hear more advice -- it is I who should
decide what to do.” (3)
The whole affair
is indicative of what I described in 2003 as a fragmentation
of religious authority in the modern Muslim world.(4) Recent
years have witnessed an erosion of the traditional boundaries
that separate the ulama from popular religious figures,
activists, and intellectuals. With the invention of new media
technologies that are not only transnational, but also more
symmetrical in their production and consumption, a more pluralist
and participatory “dialogue” about religion has
taken shape on peoples' TVs and computers. No longer is the
primary image of religious authority one of the elderly paternal
sheikh handing down his monologue of wisdom from the unassailable
minbar (pulpit). Mass media have become the primary
vehicle for a new style of da'wa -- lifted out of the
mosque and beamed straight into people's living rooms -- with
the potential to make its preachers international super-celebrities.
Instead of drawing on traditional channels of learning and power,
their authority is rooted in charisma, youthful looks, approachability
and charm -- in other words, their communication skills and
ability to be identified with, rather than merely looked up
to in awe. The result is that the "dialogue" about
religion in society is now characterized by a much wider range
of perspectives which extend well beyond those of respectable
and learned Azhar-trained ulama like Al Qaradawi to
include the voices of an ever-widening variety of political
Islamist activists and lay preachers like Khaled -- students,
professionals, revolutionaries, and intellectuals. Why shouldn't
Qaradawi be miffed? He and other traditional sheikhs are sensing
an encroachment on their authority and influence, especially
as tele-Islamists dabble more in politics and try to use their
cultural capital with young people to morph from pop stars into
leaders.
Anyone who has followed Khaled's career over the last few years
will not be shocked that he decided to get involved in the cartoon
crisis. He has been moving in this direction for a while. It
would have been surprising if he hadn't said or done anything
about the cartoons. Khaled may have started out his early career
as a da'iya by emphasizing Quranic stories, personal
piety, and the role of Islam in everything from dating and football
to family relations and manners, but recently he has started
moving into the realm of charity, social development and reform
with his TV show Life Makers, which he uses to organize
philanthropic projects ranging from collecting clothes for the
poor to battling unemployment by encouraging small businesses.
He still avoids speaking directly about domestic politics in
Egypt (he once sat on an Egyptian TV show and laughingly refused
multiple times to tell the interviewer who he would have voted
for if he had been in Egypt for elections), but he has always
talked in general terms about the plight of Muslims in Palestine,
Iraq and elsewhere in the region. Most of the time, he is preaching
a positive angle. When the US invaded Iraq, Khaled suggested
Muslims should react by looking inward in spiritual self-examination
rather than lashing out. He called on them to donate blood and
call or write Iraqi civilians to show their support. "Let's
do our best to lift the humiliation from above our brothers
and sisters in Palestine and Iraq and our entire Ummah,"
he said in his TV show Until They Change Themselves,
which aired at the beginning of the Iraq war. "Let's change
our personal condition towards honor and dignity, because unless
we change our own condition, Allah will not change the condition
of our Ummah."
When Muslim bombers detonated explosives in the London Underground
in July 2005, Khaled issued a statement condemning the attacks
within hours, calling for dialogue. After the Sharm El Sheikh
bombings in Egypt last year, he told me that not only were the
bombers wrong, but that the violence could be blamed on a "lack
of freedom" in Egypt and the oppression of Muslims abroad,
both by the US and Arab dictators. This anti-terror, "dialogue
of civilizations" message seemed to crystallize for Khaled
after moving to England in 2002. He had always said 9-11 was
wrong, that Muslims shouldn't resort to despair or violence
and should instead improve their own lives and countries, but
after living in the UK, Khaled was approached by the Foreign
Office, the WHO, the UN and others attracted to his moderate
voice and wide appeal with Arab youth. Since then he has come
to see himself as a sort of intermediary between East and West.
For Khaled, the cartoon crisis fell smack into this larger project.
“There are two schools of thought: one that confronts
attacks and one that rather focuses on building the future,”
said Khaled, referring to what he perceives as a philosophical
difference with Qaradawi. “Both schools are respectable,
but it is my right to focus on building the future.” He
continues:
Protests and boycotts were all legitimate
means of expressing anger, but protests should persist only
to awaken the Islamic world. My interest in this issue (dialogue
with the West) stems from my prime interest and goal in life
-- to act as a catalyst for a renaissance that cannot be obtained
in the presence of conflicts. I think I'm heading toward that
goal through my "Life Makers" programme. The 25 youths
who participated in the conference were more than presentable
and we should not look down on the efforts (of youths who represent)
60 percent of the Muslim population. (5)
All this is just
to point out that when Khaled is described as apolitical, it's
really because he usually tries not to get sucked into any political
scrum, especially when it comes to Egypt. He is a master of
keeping his statements as vague as possible to avoid taking
sides and exciting controversy. But as he told me in 2004, he
recognizes that "everything is political," including,
to a certain extent, his Life Makers project.
The fact is that
Khaled has been walking a fine line for a while. But in trying
to please both Western and Arab audiences he really is testing
his abilities and influence. The more Khaled reaches out to
the West and America, the more he tries to speak a language
that makes everybody happy, the more he risks losing credibility
among Arab and Muslim audiences. It is a conundrum familiar
to liberal minded politicians and reformers in the Arab world—a
rhetoric of dialogue and conciliation can be a hard sell at
times of frustration and conflict.
The brouhaha over the conference has exposed the precariousness
of Khaled’s position, and risked alienating many of those
who were attracted to his discourse in the first place because
they did see him as apolitical. It may be that he is stretching
his role as a da'iya a little too thin, but Khaled
insists it's worth it. The road may be long, he says, but small
victories go a long way: “The Danish youths said good-bye
with tears in their eyes, saying that now they have a different
picture about Islam,” he told Al Ahram Weekly.
“They expressed regret, asked Muslim youths to forgive
them and not to blame them for other people's faults. I was
very happy to find a Danish man coming over to shake hands with
me in the airport in Denmark, saying that 'now Danes respect
Muslims'. Isn't that enough?" Maybe not, time will tell.
But as these lines are written, more than two months after the
cartoon crisis, Khaled and Qaradawi seem to be maintaining an
uneasy truce after Khaled attended Qaradawi’s own conference
in Bahrain. Not surprisingly, the clash of the Islamic TV titans
did not turn out to be fatal for either party. Certainly, Qaradawi
has weathered worse criticisms for his stands on jihad and the
Palestinian-Israeli conflict, while Khaled's demise as a star
has been predicted many times before this, and so far his popularity
has only continued to grow.
But even if Khaled
does fade from the scene eventually, or stumbles over his own
ambition, it is clear from the changing face of Islamic TV programs
and channels (see my article on Islamic reality TV in TBS Volume
1, Number 2) the era of "tele-Islamism" has only just
begun. Look for more media-savvy Islamists hawking their philosophies
and politics in slickly produced TV talk shows, comedies, films,
game shows and video clips. Such programming aims to attract
a wider secular audience, not just observant Muslims. In doing
so, such programs have to modify their language and appearances
to draw and keep viewers, while preserving core Islamist values
and messages. It's a tricky game of give and take. You can bet
the Muslim Brotherhood and Hamas, as well as Qaradawi and his
fellow clerics, are watching such trends very closely.
Lindsay
Wise is
managing editor of TBS. She has a B.A. in English and Foreign
Affairs from the University of Virginia and an M.Phil. in Modern
Middle Eastern Studies from St. Antony's College, University
of Oxford, where she earned distinction for her thesis on Amr
Khaled. Titled "Words from the Heart: New Forms of Islamic
Preaching in Egypt," the thesis explored the recent rise
of “tele-Islamists” through satellite television
and the Internet. In addition to her work with TBS, she also
is a freelance journalist in Cairo.
NOTES
1. "Islamic
Televangelist Risks Popularity," Associated Press, 21 March
2006.
2. Ibid.
3. "Now Danes
Respect Muslims." Al Ahram Weekly,23-29 March
2006.
4. Wise, Lindsay.
"Words From the Heart: New Forms of Preaching in Egypt."
M.Phil. Theses. University of Oxford. St. Anthony's College,
2003.
5. "Now Danes
Respect Muslims."
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