Mediating a Disney-style Islam: The Emergence of Egyptian Islamic Animated Cartoons

Introduction

Egypt was the first Arab country in which concerted efforts were made to establish animation production as early as the 1930s. For Egyptian authors, Western – mostly Disney – animations were the main inspiration, especially regarding visual style and narrative. Animations constituted an open format in which characters, environment and plots could be created according to personal, cultural, political and even religious preferences. Since then, animation has been increasingly localized and has been inextricably bound to the political agendas of its respective times, providing a space for negotiation over identities. Until the 1990s, Egyptian animated cartoons exclusively addressed a national audience, as an imagined community, mediating an Egyptian identity tied to the nation state, as shown by Ghazala (2017: 196–216). However, by the mid-1990s, this approach changed. The appearance of Egyptian animated cartoons with Islamic themes, mediating an Islamic rather than a national identity, came at a time of political turmoil and supported the Egyptian government’s strengthened alliance with al-Azhar – one of the most prestigious religious institutions in the Sunni Muslim world – and its efforts to create a controlled Islamic public sphere in the face of its Islamist opposition. Meanwhile, mediations of transnational Islamic identities enabled such productions to bypass national borders and be distributed in both Arab and non-Arab Muslim countries. By the 2000s, partly due to increasingly easy access to modern computer-based 3D technologies, a number of Egyptian animation studios and production houses had become involved in the production of animated cartoons, in general, and Islamic-themed animated cartoons, in particular. This article will investigate the emergence of the Egyptian Islamic animated cartoon genre, from Mish Mish Effendi (1937) to Stories from the Qu’ran (2011–), ¹ with the aim of showing how these cartoons can be linked to Egypt’s local cultural and religious environment.

Animation as a platform for mediating an Egyptian nation

While animated cartoon production is certainly a business for creating and selling marketable products, it is also a cultural product that reflects and advocates the cultural values and identities of its producers and of the social conditions under which it is produced. As Belkhyr (2012: 704) put it, it is an industry that ‘commercializes and standardizes the production of culture’. Egyptian animation is no exception. Since its beginning in the 1930s, the majority of Egyptian animation productions have been mediating narratives inextricably linked to the Egyptian nation as an ‘imagined community’ (Anderson, 1991: 187–207). In this way, their narratives participated in the creation and sustenance of a national identity, validated particular national myths and constructed a common popular cultural memory that defines the identity of a group of people (Bhabha, 1990). Thus, animation in Egypt has been integral to cinema and television, which are primary platforms in creating and maintaining a sense of belonging (Castelló, 2007).

Popular culture in general has the ability to articulate and produce feelings that can become the basis of an identity and the source of political thought and action (Street, 1997: 10). Therefore, cinematic and media productions constitute a potential means for Egyptian (national) elites to create and maintain identities because, in cultural industries, local actors use globally distributed forms and genres to create cultural products that define and redefine the national and the local (Straubhaar, 2009). This phenomenon is nothing new. Western media technologies such as cinema and television as well as various genres and formats, such as soap opera, have played an important role in the Middle East, as tools for advocating competing identities of nationalism tied to Arab states and pan-Arab nationalism as well as Islamism from the early 20th century on (Gelvin, 1999). In regard to Egypt, the abundant literature shows how cinema and television have been employed in the mediation of national, pan-Arab and religious identities through the auspices of national film industries tied to local elites (Abu-Lughod, 2005; Darwish, 1998; Khatib, 2006, Shafik, 2007). What I argue here is that a similar phenomenon applies to Egyptian animated cartoons as animation is an inherent part of the cinema culture in any given space, even though the form has been neglected in academic discourse for a very long time. In this article, I aim to reinstate animation within a rich and diverse reflection on Egyptian cinema in the Arab world, with a specific focus on Islamic-inspired work. As will be shown, in the case of Egyptian animated cartoons, cultural and political notions of identity and nation are bound up in economic considerations and are intrinsically connected to the religious establishment and the political elite’s alliance with al-Azhar.

A number of authors assume that the global cultural impact of Disney and other American animated content exists elsewhere, often describing it as a means of mediating and even propagating American culture and identity (Rojek, 1993; Wasko, 2013). Without doubt, high visual quality and excellence in narratives facilitated the global – in the case of Egypt, one-way – flow of Disney cartoons since the 1930s. Higson (1989) contends that the key to local popularity for national cinema lies in attaining an international (Hollywood) standard. This argument seems to be entirely valid in the case of animated cartoons as well. Authors and producers I have interviewed agreed that, as Arab audiences became used to the visual quality of Walt Disney and other Western animations, they demanded local productions of a similar calibre, posing a great challenge for local authors and producers and pushing them to imitate Disney both in aesthetics and style. This influence of Disney’s 2D hand-drawn characters, hyperrealism and lineal storylines is fundamental for the overwhelming majority of Egyptian animations.

However, despite using foreign technology and methods, and being inspired by Western studios, Egyptian animated cartoons are far from mere copies of foreign productions. The animation format is an open text that can be adapted according to cultural preferences and animations are texts onto which different understandings of nation and identity are projected, defined and redefined in relation to local rivals and imported formulas. Moran (cited in Waisbord, 2004: 359) has argued that formats are not catalysts for cultural sameness or the loss of cultural diversity, but rather providers of opportunities for re-imagining nations in various ways. He defined formats as places of negotiation between domestic and foreign cultures rather than as advocates of Western culture. Animated cartoons therefore provide spaces for the representation of local, regional and religious cultures through representation of environment and character, the use of language and the adaptation of particular narratives and values into basic formulas.

Most Egyptian animation producers I interviewed had ambivalent feelings towards American animations: they praised them for their technological and narrative excellence, while rejecting their assumed cultural imperialism. One of the main goals of producers, often repeated in public interviews and when they spoke to me, is the mediation of their ‘own’ culture and identity in the face of the one-way flow of foreign, particularly American Disney, productions. This idea is also confirmed in the introduction to Animation in the Middle East, edited by Van de Peer (2017: 1–28). Although the volume is the most recent and first comprehensive study of animation in the Middle East to date, the chapters do not engage in any depth with religious/Islamic animation. This article intends to fill this gap.

Animation production and politics in Egypt

Throughout its eight-decade history, Egyptian animation has been intimately bound to politics directly and indirectly. Given the high costs of celluloid animation (and later computer-generated imagery [CGI]), animation producers between the 1930s and 1990s heavily relied on equipment of government-run television industries and occasionally government funding. Also, as ultimate censors, cultural agents such as cinemas and television channels had a certain level of authority over the productions. Until the recent spread of affordable computer animation and the increasingly easy access to YouTube, Egyptian animation production and distribution were the privilege of an exclusive group of artists with strong ties to the political and academic elites of Cairo (Sayfo, 2017a).

The promotion of political/national identities through animation can be detected from the very moment that Egyptian and, in a broader sense, Arab animation was pioneered by the Frenkel brothers. The Frenkels were the three sons of a Russian Jewish book vendor, who settled in 1930s multicultural Alexandria and then moved to Cairo. As art deco artists, the Frenkels established strong links with the Ministry of Agriculture, for whom they produced award-winning furniture. Inspired by Walt Disney’s Mickey Mouse and also Felix the Cat which premiered in Egyptian cinemas in 1930, the brothers established their studio called Frenkel Pictures and created Mish Mish Effendi, a comic character of local identity. Even though he featured Mickey Mouse-like characteristics, wearing a suit and a tarboush and speaking colloquial Egyptian dialect, Mish Mish Effendi followed the style of Al-Misri Effendi, a popular cartoon character representing the ‘average’ middle-class citizen (Marsot, 1971). Such an appearance alone could be read as a mediation of the Egyptian national identity of its time. ‘Mafeesh Fayda’, the first episode of Mish Mish Effendi, debuted in Cairoed Cosmograph Cinema in 1937. Mish Mish Effendi was integral to the nationalist trend in the Egyptian cinema of the 1920s and 1930s: its stories and plots were a reflection of the general rise of nationalist sentiments of their time (Shafik 2007:17– 18). Mish Mishcincomical adventures set in urban Egyptian environment and his hilarious efforts to win the heart of Baheyya, a Betty Boop-esque girl, filled cinema halls with laughter. However, Mish Mish Effendi’ish Mish Effendity Boop-esque girl,were boosted not only by his genuinely amusing character and his merry escapades, but also by international politics. At the beginning of World War II, the Ministry of War commissioned a 15-minute film to support the loan granted by the Egyptian government to the army. As a result, an episode called ‘National Defence’ was created in March 1940, in which Mish Mish sings a patriotic song, then exchanges his oud for a gun and leads the Egyptian army to victory. The episode overtly bolstered a national identity, in contrast to previous and following episodes addressing the Egyptian nation in a more subtle way by presenting local scenes and characters, and using Egyptian dialect. The Frenkels released new episodes on an annual basis. Unfortunately, the political turmoil of the late 1940s terminated their thriving business as the Frenkelsessn dialect. The Frenkels released new episodes on an annual basis.resources dried up, forcing the brothers to leave for Paris in 1951 (Bendazzi, 1995: 391; Ghazala, 2017: 196–216), where they adapted Mish Mish into a French character called Mimiche.

Television became a key institution for the production of national culture in Egypt under the presidency of Gemal Abdel Nasser (1956–1970) as television is capable of ‘creating nations, arousing national feelings and shaping national imaginaries’ (Abu-Lughod 2005:8). Also, cultural production was centralized and came under government control. As a result, an entire generation of Egyptian animators such as Ali Moheeb, Samee Rafe‘, Mohamed Haseeb, Noshi Iskandar and Zakariyya Ajlan dedicated their talents to addressing a national audience by making commercials of goods like soaps and washing powders, produced by Nassereneration of Egyptian animators such as Ali Moheeb, nistry of War commissioned a me (Shastructure for producing short, artistic productions of limited distribution. The defeat of the united Arab armies by Israel in the 1967 war, and then NasserArab armies by Israel in the Nassero addressunder government contrlso, someas such it also signalled the decline of Egyptian animation because the commercial viability of the animated adverts and TV’s national reach lost importance. The presidency of Anwar Sadat (1970–1981) heralded a period of economic open-door policy. Along with foreign goods came fast and cheaper camera-recorded commercials, replacing expensive and time-consuming animated advertisements. Also, as dreams of Arab unity faded, the new regime was no longer as interested in investing in propagandistic works, and state bureaucracy was downsized. The appearance of imported animation films – mostly from the United States – on Egyptian television in large numbers, made local productions of lower quality uncompetitive (Sayfo, 2017a).

Egyptian animation witnessed a grand revival in the 1990s, when Mamduh al-Laythi, the head of the Production Sector of the Egyptian Radio and Television Union, began to outsource works to private producers (Abu-Lughod, 2005: 196–197) and, as a result, the boundary between private and public production was blurred. At roughly the same time, satellite channels started to proliferate. The Egyptian state responded to the challenge set by local and other Arab players in a political way, through agreements about standards and morals, and through the creation of works that could compete with what was offered on satellite (Abu-Lughod, 2005:197; Sakr, 2001: 64, 162). ²

This shift in mediascape provided an opportunity for Mona Abu Nasr, a university lecturer and television producer, to establish Cairo Cartoon, Egypty local private CGI studio, where Bakkar, a series about a Nubian boy was born in 1998 and was produced for nine seasons (Al-Ahram Weekly, 2000). ³ Disney-animated cartoons were amongst the main inspirations for Abu Nasr creating the characters and creating concepts for episodes. Also, she regarded Disneygh agreements about standards and mher ultimate goal, imitating Disney characters’ features and hyperrealism. ⁴

Despite the tension of American-style visuals with overt patriotic messages in the storylines and characters, Bakkar became a symbol of Egyptian identity, indicated also by the title song performed by the famous Egyptian singer Mohammed Muneer: ‘Ever since he [Bakkar] was young, he knew in his heart and soul that he is Egyptian; that the Nile runs in him; that his country’i history courses through his blood.’ To underscore the nationalistic message, the video clip of the theme song showed national symbols such as the Egyptian flag and emblematic scenes and buildings such as the Nile, the National Museum in Cairo, the pyramids, Egyptian soldiers and fighting jets. Also, by ‘Egyptianizing’ the Nubian protagonist together with his friends and portraying them as an avowed enemy of crooks, swindlers and antiquity looters, but a good friend of the local police and local authorities, the series mediated a message of national unity and loyalty to the state apparatus (Gelal, 2017).

Bakkar was part of a trend of local television productions, advocating a nationalistic identity in support of President Hosni Mubarakunity and loyalty to the state at a time of strife with an armed Islamist opposition. The special prestige of Bakkar is also shown by the fact that it was aired on prime-time television in the month of Ramadan, when whole families gather around their television sets. Like Bakkar, the vast majority of Egyptian animated cartoons made before the 2000s principally sought to gain popularity among national audiences and only secondly among regional ones. This is shown by the fact that the overwhelming majority of animated cartoons were exclusively distributed on national TV channels and that they employed locally relevant narratives and local cultural markers regarding both dialect and visual scenes. Although the majority of productions were not directly political, they mediated Egyptian identity rather indirectly, addressing a national audience in the manner of an ‘imagined community’. However, the boom of satellite channels in the mid-1990s and the increasingly easy access to 3D technologies by the early 2000s led not only to the formation of a number of new animation studios and production companies, but also to the creation of transnational production and distribution networks (Sayfo, 2014).

Egyptian animators I interviewed confirmed that, until Mubarakn animators I interv, Egyptian television remained the main customer for local animation companies, spending over 100 million Egyptian pounds on animated content per year. Experienced producers, who had regular contact with decision-makers at Egyptian television, as well as newcomers with innovative ideas, could land contracts that largely covered production costs. ⁵ However, the fall of the Mubarak regime and its aftermath brought a setback to the industry. Because of the revolutionary turmoil, Egyptian television suffered serious budget cuts that affected contracts with animation companies. As such, producing and exporting series with a focus on Islamic rather than nationalist content became an important means of survival for producers. Given their value on transnational markets –ecame an import e Egyptian Islamic animations quickly transcended national and regional borders, reaching other Arab countries as well as non-Arab Muslim countries such as Turkey, Indonesia, Malaysia, and even the US.

Religious programming in Egyptian television since the 1990s

To understand the rise of Egyptian animations mediating Islamic identities, the Egyptian state’s religious and media policies have to be briefly reviewed. Al-Azhar is the highest religious authority in Egypt that also commands a considerable reputation across the entire Sunni Muslim world. Since the mid-20th century, al-Azhar has become more closely linked to local politics than ever before. Like many Arab regimes, Egyptian post-colonial governments required a religious legitimacy in order to gain wider public support. Even though Arab nationalism had been the dominant rhetorical motif of the state since the Free Officers coup in 1952, the government also used religious motifs and Islamic symbols to support its legitimacy and politics (Barraclough, 1998). Under the presidency of Gemal Abdel Nasser (1956–1970), al-Azhar came under government control. According to an informal agreement, al-Azhar supported the socialist politics of Nasser. Under the presidency of Anwar Al Sadat (1970–1981), al-Azhar continued to function as an organ of the state, supporting the president’s infitah (open-door) policies (Ismail, 1999). The 1981 assassination of Sadat by Islamists and the increasing activity of militant groups such as al-Jihad al-Islamiyy and al-Jamaʿa al-Islamiyya as well as of more moderate organizations such as the Muslim Brotherhood provided an opportunity for al-Azhar to strengthen its alliance with the state. Under Mubarak (1981–2011), al-Azhar became the government’s partner in justifying campaigns against the Islamist opposition and in its legislation directed against opposition activism.

Regarding the relationship of the Egyptian state with religious discourse, Armbrust (2002) pointed out that ‘its domestic political strategy employs a mixture of both appropriating and excluding religious discourse’, adding that cinema was ‘fairly consistent in not blurring the boundaries between religious and nonreligious discourses’. As far as national media was concerned, Abu-Lughod (2006: 15) noted that in the 1980s and mid-1990s, it was used as an effective platform to confront the political challenge of Islamist movements. In 1994, under ruling No. 58/1/63 of the Council of State that came as part of the deal between al-Azhar and the Egyptian state, the government granted al-Azhar new powers in providing an Islamic dimension to print and electronic media. As a result, al-Azhar’s Islamic Research Centre was authorized to censor media. Al-Azhar’s decisions on censorship covered all artistic and intellectual productions of the electronic media and became binding for the Ministry of Culture. In terms of television production, this meant that television scripts had to be sent to al-Azhar for approval before production began. The Islamic television serials of the 1980s shown on Egyptian television had been aired late at night and had not been particularly popular. However, from the later 1990s onwards, religious productions of this type – censored by al-Azhar – went mainstream as the state ‘tried to appropriate for itself the role of supporter of legitimate Islam’ (Abu-Lughod, 2005: 174). Moderate Islamist thinkers and government and television officials tried to align themselves with the religious authorities of al-Azhar, partly because of its popular image of representing the orthodox authority of religion (Abu-Lughod, 2006:10). Simultaneously, the production of religious programmes started to flourish.

The improved status of religious productions can best be traced through the policies of the state television channels that started to regularly air calls to prayer, special religious programmes and sermons (Armbrust, 2002). Also, an increasing number of directors and popular actors began participating in these productions, which now enjoyed higher budgets and growing popularity (Abu-Lughod, 2005: 157).

This religious trend was also joined by private television production companies and investors. These companies were strongly linked to state institutions as they employed the same actors and professionals working in state television (Abu-Lughod, 2005: 196–197). Regardless of the financial and structural background of the production, the authority of al-Azhar could not be bypassed in the case of productions with a religious topic. The priority of most producers in the production business was not to become involved in theological debates, but to make profit and create a sustainable business model by selling their products. As such, producers had little intention of challenging the authority and powers of al-Azhar.

The increase of religious programming on Egyptian television could also be explained by the proliferation of satellite channels – as already shown in the case of Bakkar – and the challenge both the Egyptian government and al-Azhar faced due to the increase of Saudi, Qatari and other religious programming aired from outside Egypt. Because of all these changing circumstances, by the new millennium the preservation of the role of the Egyptian state in defining the nation’s Arab-Islamic identity became a main priority of Egyptian television (Sakr, 2001: 33).

The rise of Egyptian Islamic animations

Egyptian animated productions mediating national identities such as Mish Mish Effendi and Bakkar did not necessarily exclude references to Islam. Similarly to cinema films and television series, they obviously included scenes set in an Islamic environment with mosques and featured characters in traditional costume and women wearing veils, icons largely associated with Islam, but also worn by some conservative Egyptian Christians. Likewise, dialogues often featured Islamic sayings, frequently used in everyday life.

In their book on Arab comic strips, Douglas and Malti-Douglas (1994: 83) noted that comics can be Islamic in two other ways: firstly, when ‘moral guidance is presented in Islamic terms or with Islamic legitimization’, and secondly, when ‘specifically Islamic topics are treated, whether religious discussions, historical evocations, or even the presentation of material from the sacred texts themselves from the hadith (traditions of the Prophet which report his words or actions) to the Qur’an’. In my view, this definition is also viable for animated cartoons and I would expand it with the idea that many animations are already Islamic in their titles and undertake a self-imposed mission to spread their notion of Islam and its values.

The appearance of animations mediating Islamic identities largely coincides with the growing prestige of religious programming on Egyptian television in general. The first Islamic animated cartoon produced in Egypt was Qissat’Aya (Story of an ‘Aya) by al-Shahar Studio in 1995, presented on the newly established ART channel. Even though al-Shahar was based in Cairo, it was not entirely tied to local hierarchies, as its owner was a Saudi national, Abbas Abbas, whose business plan was to focus on countries other than Egypt too. ⁶ Also, ART, the very first Arab children’s channel was based in Cairo and was owned by Seikh Salah ʿAmel, a Saudi businessman. As its title indicates, Qissat’Aya tells stories and narratives that were told or referred to in the text of the Qur’an. The series includes six episodes on Moses, four episodes of the story of Yousef (Joseph) and one about Nuh (Noah). Even though several Egyptians were involved in the production (for example, Muhammad Hasib, who wrote the dialogue, and scenario writer Musa ‘Abdal Hafidh) the series mediates a transnational identity that blends Saudi Arabian and Egyptian Islamic identities. By the time Qissat’Aya was released, private companies from Saudi Arabia and the Arab Gulf also became involved in the production of feature-length Islamic animated cartoons, mediating notions of identities in line with conservative Islamic traditions (Sayfo, 2017b: 73–76). Qissat’Aya shares some characteristics with these Saudi productions. For example, it includes instrument-free religious songs (nasheeds) as both theme songs and narration, a Saudi Arabian trait, in contrast to Egyptian television productions that have a preference for instrumental music. However, in a similar way to Egyptian television dramas, instrumental soundtracks are also included. Like the vast majority of Egyptian and Saudi Islamic-themed productions, Qissat’Aya is also dubbed in fusha or classical Arabic, the language of Islamic discourses. The circulation of Qissat’Aya remained limited, although it was also sold to a number of television channels, amongst them Iqra TV, a Saudi-owned Islamic channel.

As preserving Egyptian primacy in media was a political priority for the Egyptian state in the mid-1990s, it cannot be ruled out that the introduction of Qissat’Aya (an Egyptian-produced but Saudi-influenced Islamic animated cartoon) pushed the Egyptian media elite towards a greater willingness to accept and fund similar projects by producers more integrated into local media hierarchies. The first genuine Egyptian Islamic animated productions were two clay animations: Yunus, recounting the story of Jonah, and Ashab al Ukhdud (People of the Caves), released in 1995 on Egyptian television. The director, Zeinab Zamzam, held several posts at Egyptian television and was a lecturer at Helwan University, and she gained experience in production through her participation in a number of children’s television programmes from 1986. Encouraged by the success of Yunus and Ashab al Ukhdud, Zamzam established her own production company, Zamzam Media, which became the executive producer of later Islamic clay animations produced under the auspices of Egyptian Television. ⁷ Both the scenarios and the completed scenes were sent to al-Azhar Directorate of Research, Writing, and Translation (Idarat al-Buhuth wal-Ta’leef wal-Tarjama) for approval. In the following years, until Zeinab Zamzam’s retirement in 2008, Zamzam Media continued the production of clay animations with Islamic topics.

As such, the characteristics and narratives of Zamzam Media productions paved the way for later Egyptian Islamic animated productions and acted as models on which to base future productions. Their Islamic and local characteristics have been shared by the vast majority of similar Egyptian productions: animations include instrumental theme songs and soundtracks, the narratives often incorporate fictional dialogues and other elements that go beyond the sacred text of the Qur’an and the hadiths, but without contradicting them, and often indeed including short spots showing original Qur’anic lines in order to highlight the authority of the animated text; and, similar to Islamic live-action cinematic and television productions, they avoid the portrayal of the prophets, which – unlike the general representation of human images – is considered a taboo in Sunni Muslim traditions of the Middle East (Shafik, 1998: 48–49). The audience learns about the deeds of the prophets from other characters speaking in their absence. In scenes where the prophets should be present, the focus remains on the other characters, showing them talking to the prophet, then the voice of the narrator takes over, quoting the prophet’s answer, a representation style well developed by Islamic live-action and animation productions many years before (Alrimawi, 2014: 71–76; Freek, 2006).

To highlight the authority of the animated text, and in a similar way to Islamic cinematic and television productions, the series was dubbed in fusha or classical Arabic. The choice of language can be partly ascribed to educated Egyptians’ prejudices for the local dialect: in both state schools and the al-Azhar University system, Egyptian ‘ammiyya and other vernaculars are viewed as markers of ignorance and illiteracy (Haeri, 2003). Meanwhile, fusha Arabic is not only viewed as being of higher prestige but is also considered to be the official language of religious discourses and education. By choosing fusha, the authors abandoned local identity (animation mediating local identities, like Mish Mish Efendi and Bakkar had been dubbed in ‘ammiyya) to favour a pan-Islamic one that increased the religious legitimacy, hence the marketability of the productions beyond the national borders. ⁸ However, given the fact that the productions (unlike al-Shahar animations) include instrumental music, which is a sign of Egyptian identity, and the fact that the scripts were approved by al-Azhar, Zamzam productions can be considered as mediators of a hybrid ‘Egyptian Islamic identity’ rather than simply an Islamic one.

By the early 2000s, 3D animation technologies became increasingly accessible, leading to a growing number of Egyptian producers entering the animation business (Sayfo, 2017a). Inspired by the critical acclaim and successful distribution of Zamzam Media’s productions, large numbers of producers became involved in the production of Islamic-themed animated series. These decisions were often based on financial considerations because animated cartoons could be distributed not only on the national market, but also on other Arab and Muslim markets. One case in point is the Cairo-based Matrix, a market-based animation company. Its founder, Omar al-Moghazy explained to me in an interview (Cairo, 8 September 2012) that his decision to produce their 2006 series, Min Qisas al-Tabeʿeen (Tales of the Followers), was largely motivated by these financial factors.

As mentioned above, the distribution of an increasing number of Egyptian Islamic-themed animations reaches beyond the national level. The Arab world is essentially a geo-linguistic market, where common language and culture support a cross-border flow of cinematic and television productions (Sakr, 2007: 2). As the example of Egyptian Islamic animation shows, the Muslim world can be similarly considered as a cultural market, where shared religion paves the way for the flow of cultural and media productions, including Islamic animated cartoons. The cultural relevance and pedagogic content helps Egyptian Islamic animated cartoons to enter Islamic markets, previously dominated by Western and Asian cartoons.

Drawing narratives from the Qur’an and the deeds of the Prophets is an obvious choice, as it does not contain any topics that would lead to the refusal of the materials on Shia markets. In fact, it facilitates the flow of such productions. Also, the authority of Egypt’s al-Azhar on Islamic topics makes Egyptian Qur’anic adaptations marketable in other Muslim countries, especially since al-Azhar’s authority is viewed as less politically motivated than that of Iranian and Saudi Arabian religious authorities, often regarded as tools for political dominance. According to the Egyptian producers I interviewed, once an animation is approved by al-Azhar, it is rarely questioned by other Arab and Muslim authorities, including those of Saudi Arabia, a country subject to strict religious interpretations. ⁹

Therefore, it was a rational choice for Egyptian production houses and animation studios to become involved in the production of transnationally distributed Islamic animated series, especially after the fall of President Hosni Mubarak in 2011, when government television channels ceased purchasing animated series from local companies, pushing them to find alternative sources of funding and customers for their productions. Cairo Cartoon, for example, the producer of Bakkar, signed a deal in 2013 with al-Jazeera Children’s Channel to produce Ulama’ al-Muslemeen (Muslim Scientists), switching from the mediation of an Egyptian national identity to advocating a more marketable transnational Islamic identity through an edutainment series recounting stories of the famous Muslim (mainly Arab) scientists of the past.

Mediating an Egyptian Islamic identity: Qisas al-Qur’an (Stories from the Qur’an)

One of the most significant Egyptian animations of Islamic identity, regarding quality, lifeline, budget, production background and distribution is the Qisas al-Qur’an (Stories from the Qur’an) series. The first season, Qisas al-Hayawan fil-Qur’an (Animal Stories in the Qur’an) debuted in 2011 on the Egyptian al-Hayat channel. It was the first animated production of Associates Media Production, a Cairo-based private production house that belongs to Sabbah Media Group (est. 1950), which is largely involved in the production of television drama. Lacking an animation department of their own, producer Ashraf al-Mallah signed up with NileToon, a local animation company owned by Mustafa al-Faramawi, a director and animator who started his career as an animator at Mona Abul-Nasr’s Cairo Cartoon. Mallah enlisted several local actors and celebrities who gave their voices to the characters, including TV and movie actor Yahia al-Fakhrani as a narrator (al-Ahram Weekly, 2012). The script is an animated adaptation of the book Qisas al-Hayawan fil Qur’an al-Kareem (Animals in the Glorious Qur’an) written by Ahmed Bahjat in 1983. Highlighting the continuity between the original and the adaptation, the screenplay and script of the animation were created by Bahjat’s son, a poet and columnist for al-Ahram. Reviewed and approved by al-Azhar, the series, made up of 30 episodes, was produced in 2D interaction technology with 3D backgrounds, and dubbed in fusha Arabic. The budget for the first season was two million dollars, large enough to produce a series of outstanding visual quality compared to the majority of Egyptian productions. According to al-Faramawi, Walt Disney productions – which he views as of the highest quality regarding the visuals – were among the main inspirations when designing the visual style of the series. Therefore, the series are defined by hyperrealism and a linear narrative, often concerned with the main characters’ personal developments. The impact of Disney is also obvious in a number of other features, including the simplistic ‘good’ and ‘bad’ binary also traced in the representation of good and evil characters, and the inclusion of animal sidekicks to some of the main characters. Such similarities were intentional: being aware of the fact that the Egyptian audience is used to high-quality foreign animation, al-Faramawi told me he intended to create a production of similar style and quality, though articulating a different, Islamic identity. In this sense, besides being a commercial product, the Qisas al-Qur’an series, like other Egyptian animated cartoons becomes a site of resistance against the one-way flow of animated cartoons mediating foreign identities.

This remarkable production background undoubtedly played a prominent role in making Animal Stories in the Qur’an widely popular among other audiences beside the local one. Within a year of its release, it was sold to a number of other Arab countries and was widely circulated on satellite channels. The series was later translated into English, Malay and Turkish, and was distributed in various non-Arab countries both on television and online, reaching as far as South-East Asia and Muslim diasporas of Europe and the United States. Encouraged by the immense success of the first season, the producers released new series in the ensuing years. Qisas al-Insan fil Qur’an (Stories of People in the Qur’an) was screened in 2012, followed by Qisas al-Nisa’ fil Qur’an (Stories of Women in the Qur’an) in 2013, and Aga’eb al-qisas fil Qur’an (Miracle Stories in the Qur’an) in 2014 and Qisas al-’ayaat fil Qur’an (Stories of the Verses in the Qur’an) in 2015. For the latest season, Sabbah Media Group signed a partnership with Saudi-owned MBC to let the series debut on their Egyptian channel. All episodes of the five seasons largely revolve around narratives and characters appearing in or referred to in the Qur’an. The series therefore set itself a self-imposed educational mission to spread religious knowledge to its viewers. In a similar way to other Arab cinematic and television productions about the prophets of Islam, the Stories from the Qur’an series avoids presenting images of the prophets or the sound of their voices, as discussed in the case of Zeinab Zamzam’s clay animations.

The narratives of the animated stories are based on references made in Qur’anic verses (’aya, pl. ’ayaat) and they also draw heavily on other religious texts such as Qur’anic exegesis. Although the episodes include additional, fictional characters, animal sidekicks, dialogues and Disney-like linear narratives, the principle of not contradicting the Qur’anic phrases was strictly observed. Some scenes also include Western cultural references – such as characters showing the thumbs-up sign – creating a hybrid text. Considering the many non-Qur’anic elements, the series can be best defined as Qur’an-based stories rather than Qur’anic adaptations. One case in point is the use of characters making the thumbs-up gesture as a sign of approval, an unmistakably Western cultural form. In this case, however, the inclusion of such elements could be analysed as being more a nod to the aesthetic format rather than a translation into a complex, fluid identity.

The episodes in the Stories from the Qur’an series all have an animated frame story in which a storyteller recounts moralistic stories from the Qur’an. In the first three seasons, both the frames and the main stories were animated in 2D. In 2014, Aga’eb al-qisas fil Qur’an (Miracle Stories in the Qur’an) became the first in line to turn the frame stories to 3D, while leaving the Qur’anic stories themselves in 2D. The frame is followed by the main stories, revolving around the title character of the episode. At the end of each episode, relevant quotations from the Qur’an appear on the screen, recited by a male voice and illustrated with screenshots taken from the main story. The closing scene then reverts to the narrator and his audience with various concluding remarks, summing up the moral of the story, and occasionally also giving it a religious legitimacy.

The identity advocated by the Stories from the Qur’an series can be defined as an Islamic one, associating Islam with universal human values. In the second season, a ship travels to India, where the main character, Ziyad, is amazed to see that Hindus worship their cows as saints. After expressing his astonishment, the captain tells him, ‘We should respect the beliefs and culture of others. This is what our religion teaches us’ (Season 2, Episode 23). Evil characters are not demonized on a religious basis but according to their role in the stories, even more so as most episodes are set in pre-Islamic times. Therefore, the characters can be divided into those who accept and those who reject the period’s prophets rather than into Muslims and non-Muslims. Such an approach could be understood as a possible aim to present the common roots of the three Abrahamic religions and hence to present Islam as a tolerant religion accepting Jews and Christians alike, in line with al-Azhar’s official approach; at the same time, highlighting the similarly tolerant identity of the production and thus enabling its marketing beyond borders. The visual indications of defining a character’s morality also follow suit, using traditions of Disney (Elnahla, 2015; Perry, 1999). For example the ‘good’ people of Banu Isra’eel (People of Israel) are portrayed as pleasant folks, while the ‘evil’ ones are drawn with features indicating evilness, with sharp outlines, thick eyebrows, unpleasant eyes and hawkish noses. The same applies to the Arab characters, as the followers of Muhammad are presented as nice and kind people, while his opponents (such as Abu Lahab and his wife) are drawn as ugly people indicated by unsymmetrical faces, sharp outlines and angular body shapes (Season 3, Episode 2).

The portrayal of women also highlights a moderate Islamic identity, resembling the one in Egyptian films with a historical subject: some women, for example, the qadi’s daughter in Season 3, do not wear a hijab, and their depiction as being brave and courageous reflects an emancipated perception of women. In one episode of Stories of the Women in the Qur’an, the qadi comforts his daughter when she tells him that she has heard that the expulsion of Adam from the Garden of Eden was because of the temptation of Eve (Hawwa). The qadi dismisses these ideas as ignorance (jahl) and refers to the Qur’an as source of truth (Season 3, Episode 1). While the previous assertion largely stems from Islam’s approach to ‘Eve’s sin’, the fact that it was highlighted in the text of the animated cartoon indicates a moderate Islamic approach towards women with possible aims of highlighting women’s renowned status in Islam.

In a few rare instances, the plots engage in religious discourse, still walking a tightrope and trying not to upset sensibilities that could lead to exclusion from the markets of countries whose religious authorities share different opinions on specific issues. One case in point is Episode 28 of Season 2, which tells the story of two brothers, one a poor God-fearing man, the other a rich conceited man. Referring to religious debates over the relationship between the two men, at the end of the episode the narrator acknowledges that there is no actual proof of them being brothers in the Qur’an, adding Allahu a’lam (only God knows). When episodes engage in religious debates or refer to conflicting opinions on particular religious topics, the speakers never mention the names of those holding contrary opinions in order to avoid direct confrontation. This cautious approach largely contributes to presenting the identity of the production as a moderate Islamic one that paves the way for the series to be distributed beyond the national level, reaching other Arab and Muslim markets. Therefore, in addition to ideological reasons, financial considerations also have an essential role in stressing a transnational identity rather than a national one. Such an approach has the potential to provide viewers with a sense of stability in times of political turmoil and the absence of an Egyptian national narrative.

Conclusion

Animated cartoons have been a widely appreciated form in Egypt, for mediating identities tied to Egypt as a national state and the Egyptian nation as an imagined community since the 1930s. Egyptian identity was stressed through local characters and backgrounds, locally relevant narratives and the use of Egyptian colloquial Arabic. Mediated notions of identities were partly a reflection of the dominant political discourses of their time and partly a characteristic of the production background, given that both producers and authors were linked to local cultural and media industries.

The growth of Islamic animation production began in the mid-1990s and experienced a significant boom one and a half decades later. This growth is strongly linked to the wider Egyptian political and religious environment as it was principally facilitated by the Egyptian government’asefforts to create a controlled Islamic public sphere in the media in order to strengthen its own legitimacy. Moreover, through its alliance with the government, al-Azhar is able to act as the highest religious authority, the ultimate censor, and as the gatekeeper for religious animations before they are presented on screens.

In the process of Islamizing animation production, Egyptian producers blended traditions of Disney – that they regarded as exemplary both in visual quality and storytelling – with Egyptian cinematic traditions in telling Islamic narratives. The particular generic characteristics of Egyptian Islamic animated cartoons have been determined largely by the first clay productions of Zeinab Zamzam. Ever since, the scripts of the productions have been essentially based on characters and narratives drawn from Islam’s sacred texts. Although the narrative often includes elements designed to make the stories more enjoyable – such as including extra characters and animal sidekicks – they are extremely careful not to contradict the original source texts. The productions are exclusively dubbed in fusha Arabic and, unlike Saudi Islamic animations, mostly feature instrumental music, which is a historical feature of other Egyptian live-action films, soap operas and popular productions. Egyptian animated cartoons intentionally carry a message of tolerance as they associate Muslim identity with moderation and harmony with non-Muslims, in line with al-Azhar’s official notions. The producers also tend to avoid sensitive religious issues and strive to create a narrative fusing Muslim and popular Western elements. This approach has enabled and indeed accelerated the transnational flow of productions and has made them marketable cultural goods not just in the Arab world, as a geo-linguistic region, but also in the wider Muslim world, which is treated as an inherent part of a global cultural market. Meanwhile, on the national level, we see that such an Islamic identity, carefully tailored by individuals and institutions integral to the local media and political elites, is not necessarily in conflict with the Egyptian ‘imagined community’ but is a source of religious knowledge largely compatible with the dominant notion of Egyptian national identity.