Egypt today (Feb 2003)
Writer: Hadia Mostafa
Photographer: Nicola Matthews

It's an unlikely combination: young e-commerce entrepreneur and up-and-coming religious talk-show host. How does Moez Massoud manage success in both vocations?

Last year while researching a business story on e-commerce, I was given the contact of Moez Massoud, a young entrepreneur who had just published Egypt's first commercial guide to the Internet, The Net Guide. We spoke briefly on the phone and agreed to meet for an interview, but came up against a scheduling conflict. Busy agendas and a tight deadline left us no room to reschedule.

Six months or so later, I found myself deep in conversation about the virtues of the Quran with the host of ART's unconventional new religious talk show, Parables in the Quran. About halfway through the interview I realized that the man in front of me was also the maverick behind The Net Guide, a publication that grossed LE 100,000 with its debut issue.

This duality in Massoud's professional and personal life is a characteristic that's not often found in the Muslim world - a place where traditionally sheikhs speak about religion and businessmen conduct business. "People are always amazed that I can run my own advertising agency and be knowledgeable about the Quran, or that I'm fluent in English and still able to lead prayer in a mosque," says Massoud.

Massoud vowed to be a better person, but it wasn't easy. "I went through such a struggle. Giving up the lifestyle that I had gotten used to was not easy."

To him, however, it's not a matter of either/or. "You can have both worlds," insists Massoud. "In fact, I think that this duality is precisely what the Islamic world needs in order to advance and overcome some of the negative images that have been cast upon it. Being religious doesn't mean shutting yourself off from the world. I'd love to see people sit in a makra'a [a gathering for Quranic recitation] in the evening and the next morning conduct a board meeting or give a Power Point presentation," says Massoud, who has been trying to convey this message through his television show.

Parables, which aired for the first time last Ramadan on ART's American/Canadian, South American, Australian and European satellite channels, has won rave reviews from an international audience of predominantly non-Arabic-speaking Muslims in their teens and 20s. The positive feedback that the satellite channel has received on the program from abroad indicates a thirst for Massoud's brand of informal, chatty, non-intimidating discourse on Islam, presented in a language and dialect that is easy for Westernized Muslims to relate to and understand. "There is definitely a lack of good information in English on Islam both on television and in print," says Massoud.

But time and again Massoud asserts that he is not a preacher. "The 'do-this-don't-do-that' approach is something that I try to avoid," he explains. "It's definitely not my place to pass judgment on anyone. There is a whole verse in the Quran that says when you meet people who you may deem not as religiously versed as you, don't call them nonbelievers. Don't think that you are superior to them. Allah says that you too were once like this until He bestowed his blessings. I want to bring back the spirit of the Quran itself, not people's interpretations of it. A lot of times during the show when we talk about various issues I'll stop and say, 'Please don't feel intimidated if you are not doing this yet. You can get there someday.'"

At only 24 years old, Massoud admits that not long ago he would have never imagined himself to be anywhere near where he is today. "Sobhanallah [praise be to Allah]!" he says repeatedly as he begins relating his story between gulps of cappuccino with Celine Dion crooning in the background. The waiters at the café where we are talking all stare in curiosity at the young man who exudes celebrity appeal. His fluent American English is peppered with faultless Arabic quotations from the Quran, making him even more of an enigma.

After a predominantly Western upbringing in Kuwait, where he attended an American school and was deeply immersed in the expatriate community, Massoud moved back to Egypt with his family during the 1991 Gulf War. "Coming to Egypt was an eye-opener," he says. "Life in Kuwait was really sheltered compared to things here. I quickly got into the whole party scene at the American International School and later at AUC. You name it, I did it; drinking, drugs, dating. All I cared about was being popular, having fun, and the next party. Religion meant absolutely nothing to me. I didn't know how to read Arabic, never read the Quran and never prayed. I was Muslim in name only."

The more Massoud partied, the more other aspects of his life began to suffer. He went from being a straight-A student in Kuwait to barely passing in Egypt. "I was always the class prankster, but my harmless pranks began taking a turn toward the serious," says Massoud. During his freshman year at AUC, however, Massoud got a quick wake-up call. Six of his peers died - four of drug overdoses, one in a car crash, and the other of leukemia. "These events were a tremendous shock," he explains. Then an event even closer to home took place. While playing basketball one day, an excruciating pain reverberated through his left side. The next day he found himself in the hospital being prepped for an emergency spleenectomy. "The doctors found a large tumor on my spleen which had to be removed immediately," says Massoud.

It was during his recovery from surgery that Massoud had his first religious awakening. "I was always aware of God's existence, but I had never before felt so vulnerable," he says. "It was just like the Quran says: 'When man has any sort of harm inflicted upon him he calls out to his Lord, turning ever nearer to him. Then when Allah gives his blessing, he forgets.' That's exactly what happened to me." He left the hospital vowing that he would become a better person.

But a week later he found himself at a New Year's Eve party drinking as if nothing had happened. "I went through such a struggle," he admits. "Giving up the lifestyle that I had gotten used to was not easy, but when I nearly crashed into a truck on my way home from that party, I thought, 'This is it.'"

From that point on, Massoud did change, although he didn't undergo one of those miraculous 180-degree transformations from party animal to bearded galabeya-wearer. His spiritual development was a slow and gradual one. Superficially, not much changed about him. He still dresses the same, talks the same and behaves in the same unbridled, happy-go-lucky manner that he's always been known for - just minus the activities deemed haram by Islam. "A lot of the people who try to go for drastic transformations end up transgressing at some point. Thank God I never went through an extremist phase. I've always set realistic goals for myself," he says

Massoud can follow a verse from the Quran with a fluent English translation, topped off with an unexpected pop-culture reference, like a quote from an Al Pacino movie.

He began on his quest for God by swearing off el kabaer (major sins like drinking and fornication) and trying to pray five times a day. "I spent the first year or two praying all five prayers at night before I went to bed because I would forget to do them at their proper time, but at least I was praying," he says. "It wasn't perfect, but I was doing my best. It's all about doing your personal best, which is different from your next-door neighbor's best," says Massoud.

In the fall of 1997, Massoud met a pivotal figure in his life - not a sheikh, but rather a fellow student at AUC who had lost 90 percent of his vision due to a hereditary illness. "Mahmoud simply entered my heart," says Massoud. "He was beautiful inside-out. I had never met such a pure-hearted person."

Massoud had been a singer for a band, and it was Mahmoud who first suggested that Massoud use this talent by "singing" the Quran. "Mahmoud complimented my voice and encouraged me to learn Quranic recitation," says Massoud. "I was so moved by him that I decided to do it."

Because his knowledge of Arabic was not strong enough at that point to read, Massoud had to rely on listening to recordings, which quickly became his passion. He can now recite every verse and chapter of the Holy Book by heart. "I've always had excellent memorization skills," he explains. "I knew the lyrics to hundreds of songs. So I just decided to put that skill to good use."

He can follow any verse, which he enunciates with the eloquence of an Azharite, with an equally fluent English translation. Then he often comes up with witty, unexpected pop-culture references like quotations from Al Pacino in The Devil's Advocate or lyrics from an Aerosmith song.

After graduating from AUC with a degree in economics, Massoud worked for multinationals in the United States. and Dubai for a year in the field of marketing. His entrepreneurial spirit, however, led him back to Egypt, where he and his best friend established a small advertising agency called The Guide Factory, which he still runs today. While achieving success on the marketing/advertising front, Massoud continued to augment his religious knowledge by reading and listening to various Islamic scholars.

In late 2002, Massoud was asked by friends to give a talk at AUC during the university's Global Injustice Week. "This was a nonreligious talk," he points out. "It was more of a philosophical discussion on the divine approach to attaining infinite justice. I drew on examples from the Bible, the Torah and the Quran. I ended the talk by singing Bob Dylan's 'Masters of War.'" His presentation was so well-received that those who attended continued to talk about it for months later.

As a result, he says, "People began telling me that I should go international with my message. I never really gave it much thought. Like I said, I'm just this normal guy who loves the Quran." But one thing led to another, and before long Massoud found himself meeting with ART programming directors who were interested in scheduling a good religious program that they could air to the entire world during Ramadan as part of an attempt to highlight a positive side of Islam post-9/11. "I had spent the previous Ramadan visiting friends in the U.S. While I was there I visited some Islamic centers, where I talked informally in a very nonpreachy manner, and one of those talks was videotaped. ART saw the tape and liked what they saw."

Massoud and ART together came up with the idea for Parables, and Massoud personally researched and prepared the 30 different parables that were presented. "ART was very open-minded about the approach I wanted to take, and they put a lot of money and effort into making the program a success," says Massoud, who spent most of Ramadan in the studio editing the episodes himself.

Massoud has appeared on the scene at the right time. The past couple of years have witnessed a shift in religious programming from the traditional turbaned sheikh speaking in classical Arabic with a blank background, to shows that target a younger, hipper audience. The newer programs try to utilize attractive sets, attractive hosts, and the use of colloquial Arabic. But what's still poignantly absent from all these shows is discussion. "I wanted to make Parables a real talk show by utilizing the discussion format that is often missing in religious programs," says Massoud.

Relevant, contemporary, real-life topics like friendship, hypocrisy, modesty and women in Islam have all been openly discussed on Massoud's accessible talk show.

A panel of about four men and four women appear on each episode of Parables with Massoud leading the discussion, talk-show style, on issues related to a particular parable in the Quran. Relevant, contemporary, real-life topics like friendship, hypocrisy, modesty and women in Islam have all been openly discussed.

On the first few episodes of Parables, the young women who appeared were all veiled. But Massoud decided that while this was the Islamic ideal it was not representative of real life, and therefore he specifically requested that the show also host some women who are not veiled. This was clearly a first for religious programs. But Massoud downplays the significance: "I was after reality. The show is a random group of Muslim youth who collectively attempt to understand the Quran. It does not represent a utopian world."

Throughout the show Massoud tries to get his panelists to discuss their personal experiences and viewpoints. By at times adopting a devil's advocate approach in order to heat up the discussion, Massoud has been able to broach unconventional topics like male and female behavior toward the opposite sex. "There are a lot of taboos in our society that are deemed religious but are actually cultural," he says. "For example, we did an episode on women in Islam, and we decided that all the panelists for this particular segment should be women. So there I was sitting among seven women, listening to their stories and opinions. I was fine with it, and religiously speaking there is nothing wrong with it, but in the Arab mind-set it signaled a lot of red flags."

ART has decided to air Parables year-round as a weekly series, and Massoud will begin filming new episodes this month.

Massoud does have his detractors. Some scattered criticism that the show was too liberal recently surfaced after the religious channel Iqraa began airing reruns in the Middle East and Africa currently on Fridays at 12:30 a.m.

But Massoud claims that even Middle Eastern audiences are relating to his message and responding to his approach. "It doesn't mean that I'm that good. It's just indicative of a need for people to be approached in a non-intimidating manner about Allah," he says. "For example, I often quote lyrics to music on the show, which people have criticized. But what I'm trying to highlight is that you cannot attract everyone toward religion through the same door."

Massoud is aware that the September 11 attacks certainly got everyone curious about Islam. "I believe that the events of 9/11 had nothing to do with real Islam," insists Massoud. "But if one good thing has come out of it, it's that there is now a worldwide interest in the Muslim religion that was never there before. It's our chance to show the world what we're really about, rather than the terrorism and intolerance that is so often in the spotlight."

Massoud sums up his ideas: "Someone I know who preaches Islam once said, 'You should not look at how many people you have brought into Islam, but rather look at how many people you have sent away."