At the very moment when the constitution places its hand on the heart of the nation and swears equality, a contradiction slips in—like a crack in a mirror. It declares freedom of belief to be absolute, then restricts its practice in the following sentence to the “heavenly religions.”
Here, the mind halts before a grave paradox:
How can freedom be absolute and conditional at the same time?
And how can a human right to belief or non-belief be reduced to a list approved by the state?
First, the text contradicts itself. Article (64) of the constitution states that freedom of belief is absolute, yet it guarantees the freedom to practice rituals only for the heavenly religions. This text negates itself. If freedom is absolute, there is no room to classify or restrict it to one belief over another.
Restricting religious practice to the heavenly religions does not protect religious diversity; it criminalizes everything else. It places the state in the position of guardian over consciences, treating belief as if it were an administrative decision requiring official licensing, rather than a self-emergent expression of free human consciousness.
Second, the concept of citizenship is in crisis. Citizenship is neither granted nor revoked; it is assumed by virtue of human belonging to the homeland. When the constitution distinguishes between citizens in freedom of belief, belonging itself becomes conditional upon belief rather than loyalty to the nation.
Thus, religion shifts from a spiritual experience to a civil access card, and from a relationship between the individual and their Creator to a relationship between the citizen and the civil registry clerk. The greatest paradox is that the same constitution criminalizes discrimination based on religion (Article 53), while implicitly legitimizing it in another article. This is the crisis of constitutional conscience in modern Egypt.
Third, philosophy has been absent. Freedom of belief, at its core, is not a legal issue but a philosophical one. A human being’s freedom to believe or not believe, and to choose their own meaning of existence, is what makes them human. When the state interferes in this inner sphere, it does not merely violate the law; it trespasses upon the sacred domain of consciousness. A society that dictates what people must believe will soon dictate how they think—and how they love.
Fourth, citizenship precedes belief. The greatest constitutions are not those that define people’s religions, but those that guarantee their right to differ in belief without fear. In a true civil state, religion belongs to God and the homeland belongs to all. When religion becomes a condition for full citizenship, we are facing a system that reduces the human being to belief and measures belonging by official faith rather than national participation. This is the slope that begins with protecting belief and ends with excluding people.
Fifth, we need a new constitutional conscience. We do not need new texts as much as we need a conscience that reads existing texts honestly. Freedom of belief is complete only when it is respected in its weakest form—when we guarantee it for those we differ with, not only for those who resemble us. The constitution requires a philosophical review, not a linguistic one—one that places the human being at the center of the text, not religious institutions, and makes citizenship precede doctrinal identity. Otherwise, we will continue to live in constitutional and legal contradiction, sanctifying a principle while negating it in the same paragraph, leaving the nation confused between its texts and the citizen threatened at the core of their humanity.
To those who draft constitutions with pens that claim to speak in the name of the homeland: remember that freedom of belief is not a favor granted or withdrawn by the state. It is the foundation of human dignity, preceding and transcending laws. And God—who created the mind—did not impose faith by force; how then can human beings do so in the name of the constitution?
Incidentally, to those who rushed to classify and excommunicate me merely for affirming freedom of belief after reading the first part of the article: I am a Muslim—by a mind that led me to respect all religions and beliefs, without confining truth to one faith alone.
Islamic Sharia, when read through its higher objectives rather than frozen interpretations, reveals itself as part of a universal human project shared by all messages that sought to liberate humanity from oppression, fear, and absurdity. Conflicts in the name of religion are often the product of flawed human understanding, not expressions of the essence of faith. Laws differ in form, but converge in purpose: a more just, more conscious, and more compassionate human being. There is no room for discrimination among citizens in the name of religion.
Part of my respect for more than half of humanity—those who do not believe in Islam, Christianity, or Judaism—leads me to acknowledge sound human values that preceded religions, regardless of their source.
Islam is a religion of freedom: “Whoever wills—let him believe; and whoever wills—let him disbelieve.”
Mere disagreement over the definition of a word, without understanding its origin, or blind submission to ideological or religious concepts, can lead to catastrophe. Minds and hearts must first expand toward understanding, and toward examining meanings and definitions, before deciding whether disagreement truly exists.
The message of Islam came to affirm that God is One, and that access to Him is through direct knowledge—without intermediaries, in any language, in any way, and at any time. I affirm that Islam is a religion of freedom, and it is unacceptable to strip any non-Muslim of their Egyptian identity in any form.
