I Viewed a Critically Acclaimed Short Film with Progressive Copts.
The short film resonates with many Christians, but it falls flat with a Coptic audience.
I viewed the animated short film The 21 in a viewing hosted by Progressive Copts. The 13-minute-long film detailed how ISIS murdered 20 Coptic migrant workers from Egypt and one from Ghana. The Ghanaian, Matthew, was captured in a separate raid after insisting that he practiced the same faith as his Egyptian counterparts. After being tortured for weeks and eventually murdered in an infamous scene that stained the ocean red, the Egyptian government quickly propped the 21 up as martyrs and heroes of Christianity.
Having both Coptic and non-Coptic members from 21 countries in the filmmaking team, The 21 uses a fusion of neo-Coptic iconography and cubism to create a tribute to the 21 men who died for their faith. The film itself seems to be an animated icon that glosses over some of the unpalatable thoughts and emotions that the 21 may have had. Doubt, anger, and the desire to survive all seem to be nonexistent in these men in the film. They marched passively to their deaths and didn’t seem to think about survival at all.
Some viewers also pointed out that the film didn’t show how the Egyptian government failed to act swiftly to rescue the men who had been kidnapped for two months prior to their murder. When the bodies of the 21 were returned to Egypt, the country went into seven days of mourning. However, despite this display of support, Copts still face persecution in Egypt.
In late April of 2024, several Coptic homes were burned in the Minya governorate while people were still inside of them. Bishop Anba Macarius, leader of the Minya diocese, blamed the fires on “extremists” who allegedly set the fires in response to plans to build a church in the area. This was not an isolated incident as another attack happened shortly after this one in the same area. Although no casualties were reported, many Copts found themselves wondering how to move forward as a community and as a church.
Miray Philips, a Copt herself and associate professor at the University of Toronto, wrote a paper for the American Journal of Cultural Sociology that details how Copts navigate cultural trauma. Philips wrote that the Coptic church is the “church of martyrs” and that martyrdom is central to collective Coptic identity. As such, Copts have developed three different key relationships to martyrdom: embracing it, rejecting it, or negotiating it.
Many Copts see themselves as descendants of martyrs and therefore identify heavily with martyrdom and Coptic persecution. They see martyrdom as not only inevitable, but desirable. One survivor of the 2017 St. Samuel Bus Massacre, Samia Adly, even called the terrorists who committed the attack baraka (a blessing). Adly even wished the terrorists well, hoping that God would guide them to Christianity. She went on to say that Copts are “not afraid of death” and that she wished that she had been killed as well.
Philips wrote that the Coptic view of martydom gives purpose to ongoing suffering and allows Copts to distance themselves from politics. In other words, if they focus on their heavenly futures, earthly matters fade into the background. This does not mean, however, that those who embrace martyrdom necessarily lack caution. Many Copts turn to televised or livestreamed services when they fear an imminent church attack. Even with such fears, however, traditions remind Copts that chronic suffering has a spiritual purpose.
On the other hand, some Copts reject the martyrdom narrative in favor of advocacy to improve earthly conditions for their communities. Coptic human rights advocate and researcher Ishak Ibrahim wrote that the martyrdom narrative may “promote a lack of accountability” when it comes to protecting Copts. Ibrahim also pointed out that Egypt’s commemoration of the 21 is hypocritical when it fails to protect Copts who are living on its own soil. In fact, “both the state and the Church have actively suppressed the memory of the massacre to cover up the government’s role in killing Copts”.
In addition to promoting political passivity, the veneration of martyrdom pressures surviving families of the martyrs to adopt “a specific code of dress and behavior”. It also commodifies martyrs by using celebrations to promote economic activity, effectively “turning shrines into shopping centers.” This builds a martyrdom industrial complex in which Egypt exploits Coptic suffering to pay lip service to the community without actually doing anything to improve conditions for Copts.
Those who negotiate don’t necessarily reject the idea of martyrdom as heroic, but they also shy away from excessive glorification. This sort of hybrid theology honors the importance of both heavenly and earthly life. Archbishop Angaelos of London, a liaison between the Coptic Church and international advocacy networks, sees advocacy as a part of his clerical duties. This sort of compromise between heaven and earth allows Copts to reconcile their desires for both the afterlife and this life.
While this negotiation framework appeases some more politically active Copts, the Coptic Church focuses almost exclusively on victims of Islamic extremism who make good martyrs. The Church also rejects the idea of victimhood and focuses on the positive connotation of martyrdom. Meanwhile, lay Coptic activists acknowledge victimhood and expand their definition of victimhood to include those affected by state negligence and violence.
These unique relationships with martyrdom made a film like The 21 fall flat with a Coptic audience, especially since the film glossed over Egypt’s failure to secure the men and state violence against Copts. Several viewers also noticed that, despite people in Coptic icons usually being quite thin and gaunt, the 21 were portrayed as quite muscular. This ties into Coptic martyrs fitting gendered standards. The Coptic Church emphasizes martyred women’s purity, particularly sexual purity, and martyred men’s strength and masculinity.
In addition to embodying various ideals of the Coptic Church, the 21 also looked rather similar to each other. Even Matthew, the Ghanaian, seemed to have been cast in the same mold as the others. This stylistic choice emphasizes unity in faith and in their collective identity as the 21 martyrs slain by ISIS. Additionally, their similar looks de-emphasize their individuality and shift focus onto their common faith and their common fate.
The 21 embodies Coptic ideals using the Coptic art style, yet the film falls flat with a Coptic audience. For one thing, the Copts I viewed this film with noted that the film had a disconnected, almost sterile feel to it. The 21 ignores any possibility of the 21 experiencing unpalatable emotions such as doubt in their faith, anger at God, or any sort of self-preservation instincts.
Despite being critically acclaimed worldwide, The 21 falls flat with a Coptic audience. While its message of steadfast faith might resonate with other Christians, it reminds Copts of the Egyptian governments’ inaction when 20 of its citizens got captured by terrorists. It also alienates Copts who challenge the idea that martyrdom is heroic and who advocate for better conditions on this earth. As Ramy Kamal, a Coptic activist, put it, if Copts can choose to die for their faith, they can also choose to advocate for themselves as a community.
