In memory of Maged Atiya.
At times in life, you may find yourself changed by a single person that has very little in common with you, very little do to with you, and has most likely given very little thought to you. However, their mere existence, the impact of their being, affects you in ways that are difficult to understand within you. And their passing reverberates through you at a cellular level. This is how the late Maged Atiya, also known as @salamamoussa on Twitter, has left an impact on me during his lifetime and even more so, in the short days since his passing.
Although a little more than merely acquaintances, I cannot say that I knew the man on a terribly personal basis. My knowledge of him was limited to a few phone calls, a few emails and a lot of Tweets. However, my knowledge of his knowledge was vast as I devoured his writings, his pithy commentary and any form of opinion or counsel he would share with me on those rare occasions. As an entrepreneur, a prolific intellectual, and a gifted story-teller, you would be hard-pressed to find anyone that compares. But that which I admired most was his commitment to our people. In contrast to others who may be committed to the Copts, Maged was not overzealous about our accomplishments and was not particularly hopeful for our future. However, he gave what he had in terms of enormous talent to the furtherance of the community by creating a space in which questions of history, identity, and contribution may be pondered. He provided astute observations on the state of Copts and Egypt as well as the state and future of diasporans intertwined with personal anecdotes and history, which in turn created a lived experience and provided a context for a people who have maybe lost their own.
I came to know of Maged at the same time that I came to know of Sam Tadros, his adoptive son, which was around the same time that I had begun to awaken to the state of my community. Although raised in the Coptic Church, my own story with the community began on the day of the Palm Sunday Bombings in 2017. As the vast majority of diasporan Copts, I had been raised in the context of past martyrdom, completely oblivious to the modern-day experience of Copts in Egypt. Full of anger, sadness and hopelessness at the events of the day, I began to scour the internet looking for anyone who felt the same and found the writings of both Maged and Sam. At the time, it seemed they were the only two people concerned enough with our community to expend time and talent explaining the community’s precarious state to the rest of the world in the English language. As I read through Maged’s articles I began to feel the pangs of pain felt collectively by the community. Pain that maybe had begun in the early second century but has subsisted and permeated into the lives of both those living in Egypt and in the diaspora today. I sifted through article after article on what seemed like a rollercoaster of emotion ranging from pride to futility, reading through historical events, accounts of personal history, and projections on the future of the community. Through these I learned that despite the near annihilation of our identity and culture, there have been those singular voices throughout history that have egged on the revival of certain practices and have repackaged history to create a modern collective identity. And to me, this is what Maged did so well, perhaps without even intending to. Through his writings, Maged helped me bridge the gap between ancient homeland and the present at the place in which I found myself.
When we created Coptic Voice, Maged was one of the first people I needed to garner guidance from. I spoke to him and later sent him the business plan and he replied, amongst other things, with: “I hope the new generation can rectify the mistakes of their elders.” As was his generous nature, he also became one of the first to contribute financially to the organization. I remember the overjoyed feeling that my co-founder, Marianne, and I felt by this gesture, not due to his financial support, although it was certainly helpful, but to have his endorsement both morally and financially was the ultimate seal of approval to us. Similarly, every retweet, shoutout or comment he would leave on our publications garnered the same exact feeling, making us confident that we were headed in the right direction.
The last conversation I had with Maged was a little over one week ago. He was returning a call that I had made to him to discuss an issue about Copts that was occupying my mind. At the beginning of the conversation I noticed some unusual sounds in the background and I soon realized that he had thought to return my call while being admitted to the hospital. I was incredibly humbled by this powerful act that so well illustrates the kind of man Maged was to me; willing to lend his time, no matter how limited it was, to help a young person seeking counsel. Maged truly gave himself to the community and the community has been thus edified by his limitless contributions. As he noted in his article titled “The Copt’s Patrimony”,
“We often invoke Tertullian’s words that the “blood of martyrs is the seed of the Church”. But it is also the efforts of the living to strengthen and improve the Church and community that prove to be the most powerful tribute to their suffering.”
Thank you Maged, for being our powerful tribute. We can only hope to continue your legacy.
Written by Sara Salama, Coptic Voice President
