AMIDST the bushy beards and long faces so common among religious scholars, Kariman Hamza definitely stands out—not only as the first woman to write an Azhar-approved contemporary interpretation of the Qur’an, but to have done so with a smile on her face. It’s the same serene smile that made her a household name in the 1970s, when she became the first veiled television presenter in the Arab world.

Why always a smile? It could be as simple as the fact that she surprises herself before she surprises others, she says from the comfort of her living room.

Moments after I rang her doorbell, the moon-faced, soft-spoken veteran presenter of religious programs opened the door with the same smile that has graced her face on national television for the last 37 years. As she led me to the living room, my eyes fell on an open book titled Zobdet Al-Tafseer (The Core of Interpretation) on a side table. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she explains, “It’s an amazing tafseer that I’m reading right now. It’s intriguing, as if I’m reading the interpretation of the Qur’an for the first time.”

It sounds a bit odd coming from someone who just wrote her own interpretation of the Holy Book — and has recently won the not-so-easy-to-obtain approval of Al-Azhar for its publication.

“The day I presented al-moshaf [pronounced “mos-haf”] to Al-Azhar, I came home all keen to read the Qur’an all over again for my personal enjoyment. I picked Zobdet Al-Tafseer, and I chose well. You see, interpretation is a never-ending route — a rejuvenating energy. That’s the miracle of the Qur’an and its sacred secret. Every time you read it, you get a different flavor and input than the last time — you reach new horizons, you go to places you haven’t been to, vague meanings become clearer, and existing ones are reinforced. There’s always something new you learn.”

Hamza is no stranger to challenges: When mini-skirts were still the rage nationwide, she fought for a place for the veiled on national TV. Her “head turban” set a fashion trend of its own at the time, and she has published a four-volume encyclopedia about the veil called Fashion and Modesty. She is also a noted children’s author.

Mohammed Sehety

A journalist by training, Hamza has a habit of asking and answering her own questions before an interviewer can beat her to the punch.

“What does a female TV presenter who isn’t a graduate of Al-Azhar or a scholar of Islamic studies have to do with the interpretation of the Qur’an?” she asks, her trademark smile on her face.

“It never crossed my mind, on any given day, to interpret the Qur’an — a task way out of my league,” she answers herself. “To start with, I’m a journalism grad, so this isn’t my specialty. Besides, who am I to wear the cloak of the veteran sheikhs and Islamic scholars or claim their position? But, as the saying goes, great things happen when you least expect them.”

It began when Hamza’s sister — acting at the behest of an official at the Egyptian Book Authority —asked Kariman to write a three-part interpretation of the Qur’an for kids.

Petar Petrov

“I told her I’m definitely not the right person for the task, that she should ask one of the sheikhs from Al-Azhar, but she kept telling me not to let her down or embarrass her in front of the lady. I collected myself and took the challenge after I turned to salat al-estekhara [literally “prayer to seek goodness from God,” a prayer to which the faithful will turn to seek guidance from God before undertaking a major decision].”

She ultimately agreed, drawing strength from the experience of having already written 14 religious storybooks for kids as well as a five-part encyclopedia about Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) titled Sayyed Al Khalq, which included 200 colorful illustrations and was declared The Most Beautiful Book in the World at the 1996 Leipzig Book Fair.

Calling on her signature, straightforward style, Hamza heaved a sigh of relief as she rushed to the Book Authority with her finished product, only to be dealt a blow. She bitterly recalls wandering the corridors, looking lost as she combed the building for her contact’s office, only to be shuffled from one room to another.

“No one gave me a satisfying answer or a helping hand,” she says. “I must have picked a bad time since some of them were in the middle of a heated argument. It seemed they had some sort of problem at the time. Eventually, I felt like a beggar waiting for help that would never come, so I stormed out of the Authority, I felt it was God’s will after all and there must be divine wisdom behind not being able to find the woman who commissioned the book.”

Instead, Hamza headed to her publisher, Adel Al-Moallem of Shorouk International, and offered him the three-part interpretation as a gift, begging him to publish it for the benefit of children who memorize the Qur’an. Upon reading it, she says, he agreed on one condition: That Hamza finish what she started and interpret the entire moshaf.

Pavel Rahman

“God help me! I was dreading the responsibility of interpreting three parts, and here I am voluntarily wading into deeper waters. Fear and reverence of God held me back for a second, but this time I was all excited and driven by a spiritual force to write something clear and straightforward for children and adults alike. It wasn’t easy getting started: Every time I approached my writing desk, I froze in awe of God. Then, I sat myself down, and once I started, I didn’t stop but kept on writing with God’s eyes watching over me.”

For three years, Hamza became a hermit, disappearing from the social scene and leaving people wondering where the pioneering TV presenter had gone. She devoted herself to a single endeavor, working every day from midnight to 8am non-stop, glued to her chair and taking a break only to pray fajr.

After clearing her plate, Hamza sought feedback from religious scholars to see if she was on the right track. Still, Hamza explains, she was hesitant to approach the leading sheiks since the last thing they may want, she feared, is a non-Azharite woman claiming she’s interpreting the Qur’an.

Ultimately, she settled on Dr. Ahmed Omar Hashem, the former head of Al-Azhar University, who had been a frequent guest on her show.

“I faxed him three pages of my work and, frankly, I expected to be given the cold shoulder, if not words along the lines of, ‘Why would a TV presenter meddle in religious affairs?’ Instead, his encouraging words fuelled my enthusiasm. He praised the idea, noting that Azhar students have no contemporary tafseer available and usually memorize the Qur’an without the interpretation. He was generous enough to offer to write the introduction to the moshaf once I was done.”

Hamza still wanted to team up with a revered sheikh to guide her through her journey. She first sought out Sheikh Yassin Roshdi in Alexandria, but he was sick at the time and his assistant recommended Sheikh Abdel Basset in Cairo, a scholar with three PhDs in investigating the essence of the Qur’an.

Hamza had a weekly one-hour weekly meeting with Abdel Basset, explaining, “The Sheikh was rigid and punctual. Once the hour was over, not a second more, not a second less, he would slap his knee to end our meeting. On the fourth time, and in an unprecedented gesture, the sheikh started shaking his head in admiration. That was my moment of glory. I felt like he’s finally giving me his seal of approval. I thanked him for bearing with me and never went back. I was confident enough to go ahead on my own. You can say that the shake of his head was my takeoff point.”

Three years later, Hamza presented her work to Sheikh Sayyed Tantawi, the grand sheikh of Al-Azhar, who handed the moshaf to members of the Islamic Research Center for review. To her surprise, they approved it without objection. “I was speechless, and grateful beyond words,” she says.

A small army of six proofreaders began reading the moshaf. Along with the religious scholars, her publisher was keen on reading each word and he gave her valuable comments, Hamza acknowledges.

“Adel El-Moallem read it word by word. That’s why it was delayed. He included things I didn’t. For example, he suggested we elaborate on the discussion the moshaf has about the Torah and Bible, what the priests and rabbis said. He handed me the relevant material and stressed that we should introduce it to children so they become politically and historically informed, especially since such discussion is usually skipped or left out. Frankly, this sparked a heated debate between us as I was initially against it, but his argument was valid enough that I eventually gave in to his point of view. And whenever the Qur’an mentions the Jews or Christians, we would include things from the Torah and Bible. It’s a great addition that enriched the moshaf.”

Today, Hamza is working on the seventh draft and is hopeful the final product will be out by year’s end. Her primary goal, she says, was to make the volume accessible to youth, saying she wrote through the lens of a grandmother. After all, she has seven grandchildren of her own and says she is aware of the changing mentalities and language of today’s youth.

“There’s a void we need to fill, urgent needs we have to meet, and bridges we have to build in order to reach them,” she says.

Although she calls the old tafseer “precious and valuable,” Hamza notes that over time their language has become ambiguous, redundant and difficult to grasp. Having examined countless interpretations for deeper knowledge and exposure to different point of views, Hamza concluded that style is a key difference in the wild world of interpretation.

“Each has a different taste and flavor. As I digested all the information in the different sources I read, I sat down with the image of Talal and Fagr, my grandchildren who are about to graduate from college, sitting in front of me, wondering whether they’ll grasp the scholars’ explanations or not. If the meaning turned out to be difficult, I would work on it to make it easier and more accessible to them. I simply put myself in their intellectual shoes.”

In her tafseer, Hamza focuses on teaching children the art of divine love.

“They have enough love stories in the movies. But to teach a girl she can love her colleague, not because he’s cute, or funny or sporty, but as part of her pure love of God and His creation, is important. Love doesn’t have to translate into lust or speak to our lower instincts.”

Hamza openly discusses homosexuality and the importance of sex education for children at an early age so they don’t fall victims to perversion, “What starts as a game can develop into a devastating habit. Besides, we shouldn’t leave it to the TV, maids, or friends to feed our children sexual information. These are issues I discuss in my tafseer.”

Hamza delves into broader themes, particularly the integrity of our global community. “The bond that connects the human race together has been severed. [...] But we have to realize we’re all Adam’s sons. The West looks down upon us because there’s no such brotherhood. Our Prophet wasn’t sent only to Muslims, but to the whole world. Mercy was the essence of his message. Islam speaks about globalization, but not the kind of globalization the West believes in.”

One of the most controversial topics is undoubtedly jihad. Hamza is aware of the sensitivity of the issue in today’s political vocabulary, and she admits to having her own personal perspective on the issue of struggle and violence, noting that as a Cairo University student in the Nasser era, she was given formal, hands-on training in marksmanship, throwing grenades and nursing the injured.

“Leaders shouldn’t hide the spirit of jihad —that which has to do with defending our countries and religion — from our youth in order to please the West or keep their seats of power. Jihad is a precious concept we should nurture, and to kill it off through the Ministry of Education and breed a generation with no such spirit is a real shame.

“Instead of freaking out at the mere mention of the word, we should focus on clarifying the true essence of jihad. To leave it to those who misinterpret it will only breed terrorists — and then, we’ll have no choice but to face our worst fears. There’s a world of difference between jihad and terrorism. Terrorism isn’t only haram, it’s inevitable kufr [disbelief in God]. Whoever makes it his business to kill innocent people in the name of God because he’s angry at certain policies, laws, or a group of people is far from the path of God. By the same token, no one has the authority to deny us the right to be strong and armed, well prepared to defend our lands and religion at any point in time! We should make sure our enemies know we’re no easy target.”

As Hamza sees it, politics plays a key role in channeling the religious tide in society. Some religious concepts, such as jihad, are undermined, while others are built up.

“Politics makes its own rules and in our case, the established rule is all loyalties go to the regime, so they hire and support the loyalists, not necessarily the most competent or qualified. While the Qur’an urges people to pledge allegiance to God, the political powers prefer allegiance to the NDP. Unsurprisingly, loyalties start to divide and branch out, starting from the opposition barking at the NDP, down to laymen fighting over Ahly and Zamalek. Gradually, we find ourselves fighting among ourselves instead of focusing our energies to build a strong cohesive nation, as God ordered us.”

Although Hamza highlights the importance of a scientific interpretation of the Qur’an, she warns against being hidebound by the latest “revelation.”

“We can’t doubt the holistic nature of the Qur’an. It’s a book from God that touches upon all aspects of our lives. So when one of our scholars point out a scientific finding or theory mentioned in the Qur’an, we should explore its significance without taking it too far. After all, science comes up every day with new theories and findings that refute the old ones, and today’s treasure is tomorrow’s trash. The scientific interpretation of the Qur’an is by nature vulnerable to change and renewal.”

Hamza compares reading different interpretations to being invited to iftar by different relatives: Each one sets the table differently, each meal has a different taste and flavor, but the goal of each is to nourish.

“The difference is mostly in the flavor, but there are no drastic or threatening changes that may endanger Islam.” Although Hamza is very cautious in expressing her opinions about different interpretations, she admits that some adopt a tough tone, a fact she attributes to some scholars thinking this is the best way of deterring immorality.

She, too, believes that the Qur’an is based on do’s and don’ts, heaven and hell, and just as we should rely on God’s mercy, we should fear His punishment. “The Qur’an says God is all forgiveness and mercy, but it describes his punishment as severe. We can’t tell people to relax and take comfort in God’s mercy as they keep committing sins.”

Still, she believes some religious scholars have gone too far in adopting a tough stand. She is quite unconvinced, for example, that Solomon used his sword and cut off the necks and feet of horses that delayed him from getting up and praying al-asr.

“I didn’t like the interpretation. I just couldn’t accept it. First and foremost, no prophet would commit such a horrid act. You can’t beat a cat because you missed your prayer while playing with it. The Prophet Muhammad himself says there’s goodness inherent in horses that will last until Judgment Day. I believe the Qur’anic verse meant Solomon tapped it gently, as if blaming it for the delay.”

Hamza also frowns on those who claim that the hijab isn’t obligatory, stressing that Surat El-Noor tackles the obligation all Muslims have to God. “The message is clear-cut and non-negotiable,” she says.

The author recommends that people keep a moshaf on their bedside tables and read a part every night before they go to sleep. It’s the best way to know God’s commandments right from their source. “The Qur’an is very easy to self-interpret. What you don’t understand in one part will be explained in the next one. We have to teach ourselves, read, analyze what we read and, more importantly, we have to contemplate.”

Contemplation at a young age makes one closer to God, Hamza says, recalling that she began having conversations with God when she was five, sharing with Him her worries and good and bad news alike. She has the natural feeling God is omnipresent and people have to talk directly to Him. When she was upset as a youngster, she would to hide in the basement, sit on a bag of rice and confide in God until she fell asleep.

“These daily conversations with God created a bond that is everlasting. My parents used to laugh at me, and when I disappeared, mama would say, ‘She’s certainly in the basement speaking to God.’ It was like a solitary confinement by choice and instinct.”

As she readies herself to re-enter the national spotlight with the publication of her tafseer, Hamza does so well aware of the pitfalls of being considered a public intellectual.

“I had lots of respect for [then-president Anwar] Sadat, who declared Egypt was a state of science and faith once he took the lead. I was around 28 years old when the Islamist trend reached its peak and Islamist groups started mushrooming. The era was described as the Islamic awakening and the return to the path of God. I used to be invited to give speeches, but then I realized that some groups had adopted a violent religious discourse. They declared everything haram, even that which God has made halal, such as grooming oneself and enjoying the arts.

“I felt compelled to send telegraphs to the president urging him to approve the airing of the seminars run by moderate sheikhs who could temper the extremist trend among the youth, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. His security men sowed fear in his heart and he lost trust in all. Religious shows were canceled, among them Shariahet Allah hosted by Sheikh Salah Abu Ismail. Sheikh Mohamed El-Ghazali wasn’t allowed on TV. I was among those who were demoted from TV shows when I was transferred to administrative job in the State Information Service.”

Her program soon came back on air, though, and until 1982 Hamza presented Huda Allah, taking a break when she moved to Cyprus for a year to work as a consultant to the International Institute for Islamic Banking. She wrote book about the struggle between the state and Islamic banking, called Feegar wa Al-Ghaba. She then returned to Egypt and to television screens around the country with a new vehicle called Al-Reda wa Al-Nour, a landmark religious program that aired until 1992.

For nearly a decade, Hamza hosted the most prominent sheikhs and scholars for discussions of topics ranging from the scientific miracle of the Qur’an to the art of opposition in Islam.

Success, however, came at a price. Hamza admits that she was a magnet for what she calls “bad rumors” as her detractors were adamant she must have had “high-profile support” to keep her seat on ERTU, which has a reputation for being militantly anti-veil by policy.

The rumors didn’t stop there: “Some claimed I was supported by Ayatollah Khomeini. Others spread the word that Qaddafi used to give me LE 10 for every Egyptian woman who took the veil. Nine years later, I went to a conference in Libya and told the organizers, ‘Hey, your president owes me lots of money, just do the head count, my friends,’” She laughs.

Hamza recalls that rumors of her friends in Egypt’s corridors of power didn’t stop ERTU’s censors from giving her a hard time throughout her career.

“When the government approved the establishment of some opposition parties, I read a book by Dr. Gaber Komayeha, a professor of Arabic literature, called The Art of Opposition in Islam. It highlighted the importance of contemplating different opinions in Islam and how to present them civilly. I hosted Komayeha and Sheikh Gamal Kotb, an Azhar scholar, to discuss the book from a scientific and Islamic point of view.”

When the head censor at the time heard the title of the episode, “she freaked out and canceled it,” Hamza recalls. “She refused to even watch it or discuss it with the director, she was only screaming, ‘What the hell does a religious program have to do with the opposition? This is dangerous!’ For six months the director tried to talk her into watching it to no avail. To be done with the whole affair, she lodged a complaint against our director with the head of the channel and the head of ERTU.”

That particular episode never aired.

Similar episodes, she suggests, saw the “TV authorities” rejoice when she hit mandatory retirement age.

“I recall interviewing the president of Maldives, Maumoon Abdul Gayoom, [when he] returned to visit Egypt, where he graduated from Al-Azhar’s Faculty of Shariah. I recorded two wonderful episodes about the influence of Al-Azhar’s culture on him, his love for Egypt and Egyptians, his desire to build a nation governed by the Qur’an, and how this man who had been president for 30 years was proud of leading his people in prayers and occasionally giving the Friday sermon.

“[His men gave us] a video of the Maldives islands, their customs, and traditions. As we handed in the episodes for approval, the censor locked herslf in a confidential, closed-door meeting with a group of the TV officials and then simply informed me they wouldn’t air it. Later, I learnt that she wrote in her report that interviewing a president who preaches and leads the prayers is certainly being insensitive to the fact that our president doesn’t lead his people in prayers, and thus, it may threaten the Egyptian president’s image and reputation as a devout Muslim. I was in a total disbelief, telling my colleagues by the same token, if another country hosted our president, who is an army man, they should make sure theirs is an officer too, otherwise he’ll be accused of being not good enough to defend his own country.”

Hamza claims part of her problem with television officials was the assumption she was a member of the Muslim Brotherhood. In her book I Married an Outlaw, Hamza discussed the official phobia regarding the Brotherhood and how they’re being persecuted by state officials for their faith. She recalls how her decision to marry a Brotherhood member threatened her TV post, leading to warnings she could be fired or transferred to an administrative job.

She believes that the wave of hatred against the Brotherhood stems from Israel, the US, and Europe, saying those powers are “aware of the Brotherhood’s potential. They’ve been sowing fear and doubt in Arab leaders’ heart about the threat the Brotherhood poses to their regime.” Her book was an attempt to bridge the gap between the government and the Brotherhood, she says.

“Ironically, many in the Brotherhood have been suspicious about me because they counted me as a state employee who must be highly connected because I appear on TV. Meanwhile, TV officials were worried since I was seen as part of the Islamic trend. I remember being interviewed by [talk show host] Mona El-Shazly, who jokingly told me, ‘You were a mystery to State Security because they were unable to clearly pigeonhole you.’ And that has always been my problem. Each wanted to label me and [have me] join their exclusive camp. [...] For my part, I placed my bet on the winning party. My only allegiance and loyalty is to He who pays no heed to race, color, or kinship.” et

Although Kariman Hamza is the first woman to win Al-Azhar’s seal of approval for a commentary on the Qur’an, she is adamant that she’s building on the work of women who have gone before her.

“I was an eyewitness to Islamic scholar Zeinab Al-Ghazali’s initiative in the 1970s. I was very young when she approached me to moderate a religious gathering she held at her home. I was terribly afraid and hesitant, since I was a pebble in her sea, yet she was very encouraging and supportive. She used to tell me she sees her youthful self in me. It was an honor I couldn’t claim: I knew how great a scholar she was — her struggle and torture in detention camps for adhering to her faith was no secret to anyone. Besides, she was a big woman with a strong, commanding voice. I was tiny, soft spoken, a bit coquettish and not as committed. I bet she was luring me into her school to turn me into a tougher, more committed and sophisticated preacher.”

Hamza frequently saw her mentor sitting down to dictate notes to a young boy — later, she realized it was an interpretation. She was keen to follow up on the progress of Al Ghazali’s endeavor even after she left her majlis (Islamic class) due to her busy work schedule and was thrilled when she learned that the scholar had finished the tafseer and sent it to Al-Shorouk.

“I was anxiously waiting for its release in the market, yet it never happened. It simply evaporated into thin air. I asked the publishers about it, but they told me it never came out and I was heartbroken. It never crossed my mind that I would ever interpret the Qur’an, but after I did, I realized how tough a task and what a great a mission it is, and felt terribly sorry that someone’s diligent effort went unnoticed. Yet, I just heard from someone that he found the book in Al-Azbekiya [Cairo’s famed second-hand book market]. If it’s true, that’s the best news I ever heard.”

Hamza can’t wait to see her own moshaf in the hands of people — or to get their feedback. Although she enjoyed writing it, Hamza admits the process took its toll on her. She’s hoping readers will rejuvenate her. et et