Saturday, Aug 20, 2005

I first heard of the Khaled phenomenon on a trip to Tunisia a couple of years ago. I was told that girls were taking up the veil after watching Amr Khaled preach on Arab satellite television. While much of western public and media attention over the past few years has been on rotund, robed figures with commodious beards, the 37-year-old Egyptian has adopted the style of US evangelists and made Islamic piety look modern and fashionable. He has a smartly trimmed moustache and wears suits. No beard. He uses simple, accessible language, not stiff religious discourse. What matters for him is personal piety, not politics. And he tells his audience that they can be rich, fashionable and religious all at the same time; that they can listen to music and go out and have fun while still wearing the veil. And they love it.

No wonder his name came up when, last year, the UK government was wondering how to address the discontent of young Muslims. He will be hosting a conference at Wembley tomorrow (August 21), sponsored by international organisations, companies and the government, on how to prevent Arab youth and ethnic minorities drifting towards violence. It will be, says Khaled, the first conference after the London bombings that will express Muslim and Arab opinion.

Khaled spends much of his time in the UK these days, completing a doctorate in theology at the University of Wales. But he has also started a foundation to train British youth, Muslims and other, to lead awareness campaigns on universal issues such as the war on drugs.

When I call him to suggest we meet for lunch, he says: "I know all the good restaurants in London." Right on key. So we meet in the stylish Mango Tree, a Thai restaurant in central London. He's dressed in a blue shirt and light brown corduroy suit. He laughs, sometimes nervously, and is eager to tell me his life story. Above all, he wants to talk about "Life Makers", the topic of his recent television programme, which promotes economic development through faith. Through the show, Khaled has launched a campaign against smoking and another to encourage young people to start their own businesses. "Youth energy will go to violence, drugs and such things," he says. "I wanted to channel it differently. Otherwise it will explode."

The roots of radicalisation of young Muslims, he says, can be found in a complex mixture of economic and political dispossession, the perceived injustice resulting from western policies and the absence of clear peaceful guidance by mainstream clerics.

Khaled is a product of Cairo's upper class, born to a family of politicians and bankers. He lived most of his early years in the city's posh neighbourhoods, attended a mixed Christian school and played sport at the fashionable Gezira club. After an accounting degree, he moved to London to work with his uncle, a banker. He stayed more than a year then went home to work for KPMG. "I used to read a lot, from religious books to travel books," he says. "And I started feeling that the religion that is being practised is not the right one. It was fundamentalist and old, not in tune with today's life. And I wondered where was the development aspect in religion? The talk of employment, productivity is marginalised."

It was at the Shooting Club (a social club), not the mosque, that he began preaching. "At first I was talking to people informally about religion and its role in development," he says. "But the number of people started increasing. That's when the mosque became the venue. It started with 200 to 500 people attending and then we had 10,000." In 1999, he says, the numbers reached 40,000.

Then the Egyptian government, terrified of a mesmerising religious star, even one who stays clear of politics, banned him from appearing in mosques. So he moved to television. He sells millions of tapes (the funds support his website, he says) and receives about a thousand e-mails a day. During the holy month of Ramadan his show's audience can reach five million. He says his website had 26 million hits last year - more than Oprah Winfrey, he likes to point out.

Khaled, some say, is too good to be true. He speaks with an almost messianic zeal about the good he brings to Muslims. Some of his critics back home in Egypt note that he's also discovered a lucrative niche. But religion, Khaled says, is the most effective tool to reach Arab youth. "The aim is not Islamisation of society but the development of society. Faith is the tool you encourage people with. If you complain of the method used - in other words, religion - do you have any other tool? Just look at the results. The method is succeeding."

I ask him whether he has political ambitions. He is, after all, probably far more popular than most Arab rulers. "Is there anything in the world that's not political?" he says. "Will Lifemakers become a movement, a party? I say it's bigger than a party. The queue for politics is long for something that's full of problems. I'm not in it. But I'm building something that can lead to a renaissance and no one is in that queue but me."

Roula Khalaf is the FT's Middle East editor.

By ROULA KHALAF

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