In what reports described as a “sad scene,” on October 12, two Coptic Christian clergymen officiated over the funeral of their father, who was also a clergyman. What made the scene particularly sad, however, was that the funeral service and prayers over the dead man were conducted in the middle of a public street—not in the Copts’ church, which Egyptian authorities had sealed off since 2006.
According to one report,
The priests had no choice but to lie down in the street in front of their house and pray over their father’s body, in the presence of more than 40 priests and hundreds of people, amid great sadness as the church had still not opened, even though they had received many promises over the past years that it would reopen, to no avail…. The two priests expressed their sadness over the death of their father, as well as the lack of response to open the church to honor him inside, instead of praying in the open street, in a scene described as not in line with the principles of citizenship and the president’s [Sisi’s] directives, the most important of which is the presence of a church for Copts in areas where there are no churches.
The village where this sorry spectacle took place is Samita, in Samalout, Egypt. It holds more than 150 Christian families (which probably translates into some 800-1,000 Copts). Although they have a perfectly suitable church building standing in their village, the authorities have barred them from holding services in it. Instead, they must either congregate in their homes (in very small numbers, because it’s “illegal” to pray without authorization), or travel (on foot) several miles to the next nearest church.
After noting that there are several other closed churches in the villages of just Samalout, the report adds, “Despite promises made over the past years to open the churches, nothing has been achieved, leaving the Copts in these villages to continue to suffer, searching for a place to exercise their constitutional rights to pray, and suffering from moving to other villages, especially in the changing weather.”
And why have the authorities shut down and sealed off many churches all throughout Egypt? Because they pose a “security risk.” This pretext is based on a familiar and well-entrenched dynamic: first, some Muslims of this or that village rise up and riot against a church (not due to anything it had done but because it simply exists and is an affront to extremist Muslim sensibilities); then the authorities swoop in, and, to achieve piece, seal off the church, thereby appeasing the Muslim protesters. At that point, the church is presented as a “security risk” that must remain inoperative.
As of now, there are reportedly more than 50 churches throughout Egypt that have been shut down on this dubious claim that they pose security threats — that is, because some Muslims riot over their existence.
From here one understands why, if the Christian funeral that occurred a couple of weeks ago in the streets of Egypt strikes some as callous of the Egyptian government, so too is it just one of many examples.
Six years ago, a 2018 report noted that “Coptic Christians in various parts of Egypt have been left with no choice but to hold funeral services in the streets because of the closure of their churches.” As one example, it told of how, denied a church and attacked for trying to use a home as one, the funeral of a 68-year-old Christian man was held in the streets of Dimshau Hashim—and under tight security (video here).
A few days before that, in the village of Qasr Haidar, the funeral of another Christian man was also held in the streets after the village church was closed due to the usual Muslim rioting. In yet another instance, the “funeral service of a Coptic man was held outside St. Moses Church in the town of Dairout. The church was closed 20 years ago and since then the Christian community has not been able to receive a permit for its re-opening.”
Nor are funerals the only Christian rituals unceremoniously pushed out to the streets of Egypt. In 2015, a church congregation was forced to celebrate Easter in an alley. After waiting for 44 years, the Christians of Nag Shenouda, in Sohag City, had finally received a permit to build a new church. On learning of this, some Muslims rioted and even burned down the tent the Christians had erected to worship under. Denied, the Christians of Nag Shenouda celebrated Easter in the street (picture here). And when one of them tried to hold worship service in his home, he and his household were attacked by a Muslim mob.
In every one of these cases, the authorities rewarded the perpetrators and punished the victims.
Such is the contempt that the Egyptian government has for its Christian “citizens”: even the burial of their dead must be treated with disrespect and humiliation—all while Sisi prattles on about the “equal rights” of Copts.