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August 21, 2003, 12:00 p.m. Religious Freedom in a Muslim Culture The Kuwaiti model. By Doug Bandow

KUWAIT CITY, KUWAIT — Like other Muslim states, Kuwait is filled with mosques. The large, beautiful Grand Mosque sits near the royal palace, legislative headquarters, and other government buildings. Smaller mosques dot the capital city; virtually every hotel and office building has either a formal worship space or an empty room used for midday prayers.

But Kuwait possesses something that many of Muslim nations do not have: Christian churches. Saudi Arabia is renowned for its suppression of religious liberty, including executing apostates. Christian churches have been bombed and burned in Muslim countries ranging from Pakistan to Indonesia. And Christians in Iraq are now worrying about their future, with fundamentalist Shiites no longer restrained by Saddam Hussein's regime. In contrast, Kuwait allows its many Christian residents to worship in peace. "We've never had any serious interference at all," observes Rev. Jerry Zandstra, a pastor at the National Evangelical Church.

Ruthless Islamic repression of Christians is not inherent to the Gulf. Christian churches operated in the region as early as the 5th-century A.D. During Ottoman times the British, Dutch, and Portuguese plied the trade routes and practiced their faiths.

In 1909 American Dr. Arthur Bennett took up residence in Kuwait, beginning a medical practice that led to construction of a hospital and church. Although the American mission in Kuwait no longer exists, the Christian presence is much bigger today.

Rev. Zandstra says there are about 300 "historic" Kuwaiti Christians, whose ancestors arrived before 1920, principally from Iraq. In contrast, most Christians come from the 1.4 million foreign workers (compared to just 800,000 native Kuwaitis) who live in Kuwait). Estimates of the number of practicing Christians run upwards of a quarter million.

Within just a couple blocks of each other on a major street near the Sheraton Hotel are three churches: Catholic, Coptic (roughly Egyptian Orthodox), and Protestant (evangelical). At almost any point in the day the surrounding streets are alive with people and cars, streaming about the different churches. Activities on holidays and festivals often spill outside.

The Catholic sanctuary boasts an impressive facade with crosses embedded in its exterior for any passerby to see. Carmelite Bishop Msgr. Francis Micallef estimated that there were between 60,000 and 80,000 Catholics. The first Carmelite arrived in 1947, to minister to foreign workers of the Kuwait Oil Company, but he was then based in Basra, Iraq — today a well-publicized Shiite stronghold. The present church, the Holy Family Cathedral in the Desert, was constructed in 1961. The congregation is principally Asian-Filipino, and Indian, with a number of European and Lebanese members as well. (There were many Jordanians and Palestinians before the first Gulf War, but most left then and did not return.)

The priests are even more diverse. The nine include Filipino, Indian, and Lebanese as well as Greek and Maltese. Emblematic of church relations with the Kuwaiti government is the fact that Kuwait was the first Gulf state to establish diplomatic relations with the Vatican in 1968.

St. Mark's Coptic Church is home to as many as 60,000 Egyptian members of the Coptic faith, explained Theophane Anba Bishoy. It dates to 1916 and is the first Coptic church in the gulf, and perhaps outside of Egypt. Both building and staff are smaller than their Catholic neighbor. Typically 2000 to 3000 people attend events in the building, but a major outdoor feast can draw 10,000 to 12,000. Bishoy presides, aided by just two priests.

The Coptic congregation is largely Egyptian and performs a broad community role. Bishoy notes that "almost all of them are very poor people." Although foreigners are supposed to have jobs before coming to Kuwait, "many haven't any work in Egypt," so some Egyptians come looking for jobs. "So it is a big effort for the church to find work and money for them."

Most unique may be the National Evangelical Church (NEC). It is simultaneously one and nearly three score churches. Like many American evangelical facilities, the church is a sprawling amalgam of buildings set next to the original hospital, now owned by the Kuwaiti government and currently under renovation. Rev. Zandstra hopes that Kuwait will eventually give the two structures to the NEC, which desperately needs more space.

The existing complex hosts everything from worship facilities to kitschy bookstore. Canadian Dave Peacock, a NEC pastor and former petroleum engineer, figures on any given week 20,000 people attend a service or meeting at its facility, with Friday — Kuwait's Sunday — the busiest day. Jacque Zandstra, who is deeply involved in ministry along with her husband, notes that "on Friday the compound is really teeming with people. From 5am to the evening. Every two hours is another activity. Every building is full." These people couldn't hide their faith if they wanted to: it is on display for every Kuwaiti to see.

The NEC is governed by a nine-member council, equally divided among the Arabic, English-language, and Indian congregations. Although those are the original bodies that formed the church, there are now 52 others, all of which essentially enjoy what Zandstra calls a "time share" at the NEC. The nine council members "do all of the scheduling, problem-solving, conflict resolution, you name it," says Zandstra.

Keeping the original council structure seems to have worked well, even if it might seem to offend the principle of democracy. When he first arrived, says Rev. Zandstra: "My first thought was that we needed real democracy. Other members told me to wait. If we expanded and every person represented a vested interest, and was trying to get their piece of the pie, it wouldn't work."

Only half of the congregations have full-time pastors; the others rely upon lay leaders. The single largest group, at around 4500, consists of Indians, who are divided among seven to eight language groups. There also are services in Arabic, Bangladeshi, Chinese, Tagale (native Filipino), and two Pakistani languages. And English, of course.

The English Language Congregation (ELC) draws about 2,500 different people — there is no formal membership roll — to eight services every week. But very few of them are American and European, despite a not insignificant Western business and diplomatic presence.

The service is a kaleidoscope of color, ethnicity, nationality, and race. It's a "very unusual church," notes Rev. Zandstra, the ELC's senior pastor. He once figured that 50 different nationalities were represented at ELC services.

At dinner at the quintessential American restaurant, Fuddruckers, he reeled off the following list: Ghana, Uganda, Sudan, Ethiopia, Eritrea, Nigeria, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Cyprus, Equador, Namibia, Mexico, South Korea, Brazil, China, India, Nepal, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Sri Lanka, India, Pakistan, Brazil, Leganon, Singapore, Russia, Romania, Poland, Great Britain, and Botswana. There is economic diversity as well. Indians tend to be doctors and nurses; many Filipinos also are nurses. A number of Indians serve in middle management positions in banking and other businesses. Many Chinese are laborers and nurses. There are numerous domestic workers as well. We have every "social, economic, and cultural strata," says Rev. Peacock. "Everyone comes here and is treated the same."

Although some American churches have diverse memberships, "here it is first generation differences," notes Rev. Zandstra. "The cultural distinctiveness is greater here since the melting pot hasn't melted. There is lots of cross-pollination." Dave Peacock theorizes that the great cultural complexity may be "one reason Americans struggle with coming to the church. It's a level of diversity that takes some getting used to."

The Zandstras arrived in Kuwait in 1985. He was a navy chaplain and after retirement his family settled in San Diego. Friends thought they should be missionaries and they applied through Union churches, a clearinghouse for English-language congregations overseas. At the time there were openings around the world, ranging from Bogotá to Bonn to Vienna — and Kuwait City. There were just 200 members of the ELC, which had been formed by the reformed church but was effectively independent. In keeping with past practice, the Zandstras came over expecting to stay just three years. "But we are still here," he says.

He attributes much of the church's growth to the unusual pastoral stability. "It takes three years just to understand what is going on in this country. The pastors before just got started and then they were gone. It just didn't work," he explains.

The Iraqi invasion in August 1990 seriously challenged the church. Most expatriate workers fled Kuwait, but 70 members of a congregation of 1000 remained when the Zandstras — overseas at the time — were able to return in early 1991. (Rev. Zandstra caught a lift on an American military plane when the country was still closed to outsiders; Jacque arrived later.) "We started over. Slowly people came back. Slowly the pieces were put back together," explained Rev. Zandstra.

The process was aided by good relations with the government. It doesn't see Christians as a threat, Micallef told me last year: "We feel that we are respected and not only respected, but also welcomed." Similarly, Rev. Rafik Farouk, an Egyptian pastor at the NEC, said the church has "no conflict" with the authorities. "We are very grateful," he added.

Rev. Zandstra agrees. "We have never had any trouble with the government, where they've inhibited us or stopped us." We have a "lot of freedom here."

But evangelism remains perhaps the one area of hesitation. For the most part, Christian churches focus on ministering to existing believers. There is no proselytizing door-to-door, no Arabic church services on Kuwaiti cable TV, no concerted campaigns to win converts.

"We don't even think of doing that," said Micallef, since "we don't want to give the sense of being missionaries." He added: "If there were no Christians here, we wouldn't be here." Farouk and Bishoy echoed these sentiments. Said the latter, it is enough "just to try to serve our own people."

Still, while Christians might not engage in the sort of street evangelism common in America, they make their presence known. As Farouk told me last year: "Any man can come here to ask, and we will respond." And many Kuwaitis have come to ask questions, he adds. Indeed, the NEC is involved with the so-called Alpha program, which introduces Christianity to those who want to learn more. The church was planning an Alpha program BBQ while I was visiting.

Moreover, the ELC recently staged a Jesus march in Kuwait City in which some 300 people broke up into smaller groups to "pray for the city, and there was no problem," said Rev. Zandstra. Kuwaiti police approached the ELC members to ask about this very public demonstration of faith and usually left satisfied when told the people were praying for peace. At most, Zandstra reports, they said next time ask us, so we "can give you security." The marches "were never broken up or made to stop."

And so far, at least, the rise of Islamic fundamentalism has not been a problem. Some "Islamists try to cause trouble, accuse us of everything," says Rev. Zandstra. "Occasionally they write to the newspapers, and say different things. But there never has been any serious trouble, never any serious interference at all." Islamists and tribalists play an important role in parliament, but so far have not targeted Christians.

The latter's freedom almost certainly is buttressed by the generally favorable view of America. Rev. Zandstra notes that if you don't talk about Israel, you get 100 percent agreement, or almost. At least 95 percent support the U.S." This contrasts sharply with Pakistan, for instance, where local Christians told me that they are routinely attacked for allegedly worshipping a foreign God and being tied to America — and especially American Mideast policy.

If Iraq is going to develop into a reasonably liberal and democratic system, it would benefit from studying some positive political models. Baghdad need not sacrifice a distinctly Islamic identity, if that is what the Iraqi people desire. But Iraqis should respect the moral worth of all human beings. That requires peaceful cooperation among widely differing groups and recognition of the importance of individual conscience, especially in worshipping God. Kuwait demonstrates that an Islamic system can work reasonably well, despite such obvious flaws as the lack of female suffrage.

Kuwait is an "exciting and challenging place," explains Rev. Zandstra. "That's really why we've stayed." Those challenges are only likely to grow as Iraq struggles to find its way in a post-Saddam world. Kuwait demonstrates Islam can coexist with a freer, if not fully free, society.

— Doug Bandow is a senior fellow at the Cato Institute and author of Beyond Good Intentions: A Biblical View of Politics.