It was the Lord’s will that His Holiness Pope Shenouda III, patriarch of Alexandria and the See of St Mark for some 40 years, should depart from our world on Saturday 17 March. The
It was the Lord’s will that His Holiness Pope Shenouda III, patriarch of Alexandria and the See of St Mark for some 40 years, should depart from our world on Saturday 17 March. The passing away of the pope; who was famous for his legendary love for the people, his wisdom, patriotism, and strength of character; unleashed a torrent of unbridled grief not only among the Copts but among Egyptians as a whole. The awareness of the loss was echoed by Christian and Muslim political and presidential circles the world over; many expressed the wish to share in the funeral service.
The grief of the Copts was compounded by the anxiety they felt for the future of the Church: how would it traverse the extended period of turbulence in Egypt front? Who will be the future pope and how will he be elected; what responsibilities await him and how would he tackle them? The Coptic distress was understandable and legitimate, but the scene which unfolded was at best lacking in any form of discipline and at worst irreverent.
Once the mummified body of the Pope was seated on the throne of St Mark at St Mark’s cathedral in Abbassiya, Cairo, throngs of Copts converged on the cathedral to cast a last glimpse at their beloved Pope. I imagined that they would march in silent queues until they reach the Pope where they might slow down to pay their last respects and utter a short prayer then move on to make way for others. I had to go to St Mark’s—which houses the papal headquarters—for an urgent meeting between the Melli (Community) Council and the Holy Synod and, since I fervently wished to pay my last respects to Pope Shenouda, I thought I would stand in line to do so.
Even before I reached St Mark’s I got stuck in the traffic jam caused by the masses heading to the cathedral. After huge effort I was able to walk on foot towards the gate, but the crowding was so severe that I thought of giving up the whole matter and turning back. This task was next to impossible, however; robbed of my will I had become inseparable of a human mass that was crawling in one direction; while I could see another solid mass moving outwards of the gate in the direction facing us. Fear gripped me as I recalled; amid the cries and screeching of men, women, and children; that such were the perfect situations for stampedes. It was thus no surprise that three died and more than 50 were injured.
I was finally able to attend the meeting I had come for, but it was out of the question to attempt an entry into the cathedral for a prayer and a last glimpse of the Pope. The way out was even more arduous a journey than the way in.
The grim, painful, undisciplined, chaotic scene that robbed the event of all reverence was again replayed during the Pope’s burial at the Western Desert monastery of Anba Bishoi. Even though it had been previously announced that no visitors would be allowed to attend the burial, thousands converged since the early hours on the monastery and waited in legendary patience till the coffin was driven in late in the afternoon. Then all hysteria broke loose; the scene of an unruly screaming, screeching mob was scandalous. The crowds that besieged the hearse made it impossible for the coffin to be brought out till the security forces asked the help of the monks who finally persuaded the crowds to make way for the coffin. Inside the burial chamber the hysteria continued till the coffin was lowered into the sarcophagus, the marble cover sealed on top, and a cross of white flowers placed there. But even those flowers did not escape unscathed; they were all plucked out by the people for keepsakes or blessing.
If anyone sees this as an expression of grief, I can only say that it is grief gone astray. Grief should never be illustrated through a show of unbridled, chaotic noise and hysteria; it is a noble, faithful sentiment worthy of commanding respect.
WATANI International
1 April 2012