Twitter, Islamists and Stereotypes

The Islamists Cometh was the original headline to this blog entry, as my first draft was set against a backdrop of rage. 


Before going to Tahrir's last Millionia (a million protest) on Jul 29, I did a quick hashtag search of the word Tahrir on Twitter, to get the latest updates from activists and journalists on the ground. 

As I read some of the #Tahrir messages, I came across a specific tweet, that prompted this blog entry. It was by a (female) journalist who tweeted: 

"Interesting that salafis apparently wanted their voice heard today, yet many of those I approached refused to talk to me." 

After reading this tweet, I went to the square expecting to encounter the same type of brush off, but my experience of Tahrir was very different to that of the journalist in question. Every Islamist I approached, spoke to me. 

I was angry that a single tweet had sent out to the world, a presumptuous message that reconfirmed one of many negative stereotypes associated with Islam these days. In defence of the journalist, I have no idea of the surrounding circumstances that led to her opinion. 


But the point I'm trying to make is about Twitter and its power to exaggerate the truth. One tweet can be equaled to one pixel. One tweet can impossibly tell a complete story, just as one pixel can impossibly provide a full image. 

As I arrived in Tahrir, I watched Islamist groups flex their muscles in a show of strength, vis-à-vis the secular political groups, who suddenly seemed to disappear like a speck of sand in a large arena. I was angry at that.

Although I arrived in the early evening when the Millionia was no longer in full throttle, I saw a Tahrir I no longer recognised. It conjured an image of an Islamic fundamentalist state that I didn't identify with. 


The representation of Islam as an absolutist political ideology had successfully added to the pool of negative imagery surrounding Islam in the media. I was angry at that.

Tension was in the air and it felt like a classic "us" versus "them."

After overcoming my rage, I acknowledged that I didn't want to fall into the trappings of Islamist typecasting; Islamic fundamentalist groups like the Salafis of Egypt are portrayed as evil. 


I also dislike the term Islamist, as it is dangerously generalist.


As I began approaching salafis, I realised the action of talking to each woman and man individually helped breakdown a wall, brick by brick. I also recognised this process would require more than a single afternoon in Tahrir.

My final encounter was with a young Salafi doctor in his 20s/30s, who left an impression on me. He was mild spoken and eloquent. He belonged to the Salafyo Costa movement, a group of young Salafis keen on breaking down some of the prejudices against them. Salafis drink cappuccinos too.

If I had the right to stand in Tahrir, so did they. If I had the right to express my opinion, so did they. But the question left on my mind was, if Islamic fundamentalists were in power, would they tolerate my right to stand there too?