The Sacred Game - Atif Mahmood

Cairo is a very Islamic city. It’s called the “City of a Thousand Minarets” not without reason. Where we Duke Engagers live in Garden City, we can hear azans (the call to prayer) from not one, not two, but three mosques. Taxis either have Umm Kalthoum, arguably the most famous Arab singer of all time, playing on their stereos or the recitation of the Qur’an. Men with heavy, moustache-less beards and prayer marks on their foreheads – signs of Islamic conservatism – litter the streets. Most women wear headscarves, and some don the full veil. For the Friday jumma prayer, some mosques become so overcrowded that a few people are forced to brave the blazing sun to sit out on the pavement or a patch of grass in order to be able to be within hearing distance of the imam. Many people become overjoyed when they hear that I’m Muslim and immediately greet me with assalam-o-alaikum. Most Egyptians are serious about what Allah wants from them, and many beseech Allah for help in times of need. And nothing epitomizes a united concern of 70 million people than a football game in which the Egyptian national team is on the brink of victory against a football powerhouse like Italy.

On Thursday, June 18, I came out of my Arabic class to hear the guards of an embassy erupt in cheers. I knew the Fifa Confederations Cup was going on, and that Egypt was to play Italy soon, but I did not know when. Luckily, the cheers of the guards made me realize that every single television set in Cairo at 10 pm at night was showing a football game. Along with Dan, I rushed to a busy street in search of a hookah café to watch the game in. We quickly found one – a narrow, shabby-looking place obviously geared towards the less fortunate citizens of Cairo. But the people were more than welcoming and brought out chairs for us to sit. I took a seat beside a nervous employee of the nearby gas pump who was smoking cigarettes incessantly. Over a green-apple hookah and a cold Fanta, I began watching the second half of the game. Egypt was up 1-0 and Italy was bent on changing Egypt’s fortunes.

Throughout the game, the people in the café kept praying to Allah. Distinctly Islamic phrases like alhumdulillah, masha-Allah, ya rabb, Allah-o-akbar etc. reverberated in the café. In the final five minutes, everyone was on the edge of their seats and had Allah’s name on their lips. And when the game was finally over, and Egypt had won, Allah’s name was mentioned yet once more, this time not for help, but in gratitude. I could not help thinking while sitting in the café and later on about how truly muslim Cairo was. When the camera focused on Egyptian players making the sajda (prostration) to thank God when they had finally won the game, I realized that Egypt does not revolve around the Nile, but around God. Whether they’re Copt or Muslim, rich or poor, most Egyptians take God seriously. This is one of the defining characteristics of the Middle East – God is everywhere and in everything in this region of the world, but a tad bit more so in football.