The Coptic Christian patriarch, Pope Tawadros II, had planned to spend last week on retreat in a monastery near Alexandria. But then Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, on a three-day visit to Egypt, asked to see him.
The two met at St. Mark's Orthodox Cathedral in Cairo. They reportedly discussed the bloodshed and destruction afflicting so much of the Middle East, and why promoting tolerance has become imperative.
The crown prince allowed his photograph to be taken with the pontiff. In it, the two men are seen chatting amicably in front of a painting of Jesus, a halo around his head, lambs at his feet. Egyptian media called the meeting "unprecedented."
Since he had to be in town anyway, Tawadros agreed to meet with me and with Father Thomas J. Reese, a Jesuit priest, in our capacity as commissioners of the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom, an independent entity that advises Congress, the State Department and the president. (Opinions in this column are not necessarily shared by USCIRF.)
Tawadros began by asking if we knew how many Coptic Orthodox popes there have been. Luckily, I did: He is the 118th since the Holy See of Saint Mark was established 2,000 years ago.
I think he wanted to be sure we understood how deeply the church's roots extend into Egyptian soil, and why Egypt's 9 million Copts – the largest Christian community still surviving in the Middle East – deserve protection.
In 2012, he reminded us, Muslim Brotherhood leader Mohammed Morsi was elected Egypt's president. What Tawadros called a "bloody period" ensued. Just over a year later came "the June 30 revolution," a day of mass demonstrations against Morsi and Brotherhood rule.
Soon afterward, the military seized power and Field Marshal Abdel-Fattah el-Sissi assumed the presidency. He has since called for Islamic reform and modernization. He has implored Egyptian Muslims and Christians to unite as fellow citizens. He became the first Egyptian president ever to attend a Christmas Mass.
In America and Europe, however, human rights advocates and scholars will say convincingly that el-Sissi has failed to adequately defend the Copts from terrorists. (One example: In this cathedral complex two years ago, an Islamic State jihadist blew himself up, killing 25 worshippers.) They will contend that he has not done nearly enough to rebuild bombed and ransacked churches and clear hurdles so new churches can be built.
Tawadros disagreed with that assessment. He stressed that "since the June 30 revolution, the situation has improved and continues to improve." He pointed out that Copts have suffered persecution and discrimination for centuries, and no modern Egyptian leader has treated the Copts better than el-Sissi has.
"We have good relations with the president," he insisted. "Discrimination is decreasing – but slowly."
He noted that assassinated Egyptian leader Anwar Sadat "used to say, 'I am the Muslim president of a Muslim nation,' while el-Sissi says, 'I am the Egyptian president of an Egyptian nation.'"
He searched our faces to see if we understood the significance of that distinction.
He also praised Ahmed el-Tayeb, the grand imam of Al-Azhar, the mosque and university widely considered the world's highest authority on Sunni Islamic thought and jurisprudence.
"He is a good friend for us," he said.
A day later, Reese and I visited the grand imam.
"Do you want diplomatic answers or shall I be candid?" he asked. "I can do either."
We chose the latter. He offered beverages.
"Have the coffee," he advised. "It's very good."
I did, and he had not misled me.
"There is mutual respect among Egypt's religious leaders, but that's not always shared by the people," he told us.
"Islam, Christianity, and Judaism – these religions were revealed for the benefit of the world. There are differences among them but their values, their principles, are more or less the same. They come from one source. If Allah wanted to create all people of one religion, race or color, he could have."
However, he says, particularly in impoverished rural areas, too many Egyptians do not grasp these concepts, and are susceptible to the influence of "extreme Salafi organizations," movements advocating fundamentalism and a return to Islam's earliest traditions.
Salafi jihadists "attack mosques as well as churches," he said, reminding us that last November, terrorists killed more than 300 Sufis in their mosque in Sinai.
I cannot characterize everything Tawadros and el-Tayeb said as enlightened. When we broached the subject of discrimination against other Egyptian religious minorities, for example, Jehovah's Witnesses and Bahai, Tawadros was unsympathetic.
"On the map, this looks like a big country," he said. "But we all live along the Nile, on just 8% of the land. It's crowded. There's no place for other denominations."
El-Tayeb said al-Qaida was created "not with Arab hands but by foreign agents."
He said the history of Islam has been misrepresented.
"In the past, Muslims didn't enter a country and force inhabitants to choose between conversion and death. There was another choice: to pay the jizya," he said.
The jizya was a tax levied on non-Muslims, dhimmis, whose status ranged from second-class citizen to exploited and humiliated inferior.
Note, too, his use of "enter" as a euphemism for the invasions and military conquests that spread Islamic rule across North Africa and into Europe and Asia. Yes, in antiquity, that was how all empires spread. But that's my point: The great Islamic empires were no exception.
That said, I found these conversations mostly hopeful, glasses more or less half full. And in the Middle East these days, that seems to me to be worth reporting.
