حفيد عمر الشريف يهودي شاذ جنسيا

Omar Sharif Jr. Comes Out as Gay, Half-Jewish: ‘Am I Welcome in Egypt?’




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The grandson of two-time Golden Globe winning actor Omar Sharif
“hesitantly confessed” in an article published Sunday that he is gay and
half Jewish, and worried about being welcome in Egypt.

Omar Sharif Jr. wrote in The Advocate,
“I write this article in fear. Fear for my country, fear for my family,
and fear for myself. My parents will be shocked to read it, surely
preferring I stay in the shadows and keep silent, at least for the time
being. But I can’t.”

Sharif expressed his disappointment at the recent parliamentary
elections, writing that the revolution gave him hope for a “more
tolerant and equal society,” but now he is not as hopeful.

“The vision for a freer, more equal Egypt — a vision that many young
patriots gave their lives to see realized in Tahrir Square — has been
hijacked. The full spectrum of equal and human rights are now wedge
issues used by both the Supreme Council of the Egyptian Armed Forces and
the Islamist parties, when they should be regarded as universal
truths,” Sharif wrote.

“I write … for fear that Egypt’s Arab Spring may be moving us backward, not forward,” he wrote.

The Jerusalem Post noted that Sharif’s mother is Jewish, making him fully Jewish according to rabbinical tradition.

Sharif wrote that admitting he has a Jewish mother is “no small disclosure” for an Egyptian.

“With the victories of several Islamist parties in recent elections, a
conversation needs to be had and certain questions need to be raised. I
ask myself: Am I welcome in the new Egypt? Will being Egyptian, half
Jewish, and gay forever remain mutually exclusive identities? Are they
identities to be hidden?”

Sharif, an actor like his grandfather, left Egypt in January 2011,
just before the revolution. He now resides in the United States.

Coming Out Story: We're Not in Cairo Anymore








Egyptian multihyphenate Omar Sharif Jr., grandson of the screen
legend, comes out both as gay and half Jewish — and worries that his
country's fledgling government will persecute others like him.
By Omar Sharif Jr.





















I write this article in fear. Fear for my country, fear
for my family, and fear for myself. My parents will be shocked to read
it, surely preferring I stay in the shadows and keep silent, at least
for the time being.

But I can't.

Last January, I left
Egypt with a heavy heart. I traveled to America, leaving behind my
family, friends, and compatriots who were in the midst of embarking on a
heroic journey toward self-determination. Despite the sound of gunshots
in the streets and the images of Anderson Cooper being struck
repeatedly over the head on CNN, I left hopeful that I would return to
find a more tolerant and equal society. While I benefited from a life of
privilege being Omar Sharif's grandson, it was always coupled with the
onerous guilt that such a position might have been founded upon others'
sweat and tears.

One year since the start of the revolution, I am not as hopeful.

The
troubling results of the recent parliamentary elections dealt
secularists a particularly devastating blow. The vision for a freer,
more equal Egypt — a vision that many young patriots gave their lives to
see realized in Tahrir Square — has been hijacked. The full spectrum of
equal and human rights are now wedge issues used by both the Supreme
Council of the Egyptian Armed Forces and the Islamist parties, when they
should be regarded as universal truths.

I write this article
despite the inherent risks associated because as we stand idle at what
we hoped would be the pinnacle of Egyptian modern history, I worry that a
fall from the top could be the most devastating. I write, with healthy
respect for the dangers that may come, for fear that Egypt's Arab Spring
may be moving us backward, not forward.

And so I hesitantly confess: I am Egyptian, I am half Jewish, and I am gay.

That
my mother is Jewish is no small disclosure when you are from Egypt, no
matter the year. And being openly gay has always meant asking for
trouble, but perhaps especially during this time of political and social
upheaval. With the victories of several Islamist parties in recent
elections, a conversation needs to be had and certain questions need to
be raised. I ask myself: Am I welcome in the new Egypt?

Will being Egyptian, half Jewish, and gay forever remain mutually exclusive identities? Are they identities to be hidden?