Every year, doctors at a hospital in the Yunnan Province of China brace themselves for an influx of people with an unusual complaint. The patients come with a strikingly odd symptom: visions of pint-sized, elf-like figures – marching under doors, crawling up walls and clinging to furniture.
The culprit is a mushroom, “Lanmaoa asiatica”, which causes hallucinations of tiny people if it’s not cooked thoroughly. And apparently, that mushroom can be found in multiple places around the world, with multiple appearances.
Bobsledding looks fast and cool and vaguely terrifying, but I (respectfully) didn’t really give a shit about Olympic bobsledding until this past weekend, when I learned about these two 40-year-old moms who’ve basically made a career out of making Olympic bobsled history and were poised to make even more.
Ahead of Monday’s women’s monobob, 41-year-old Elana Meyers Taylor already had five Olympic medals, three silver and two gold, making her the most decorated Black athlete in Winter Olympic history.
On Monday night, Meyers Taylor FINALLY won gold, completing her Olympic collection, and tying speedskater Bonnie Blair for the most medals won by a U.S. woman in the Winter Olympics. “I thought it was impossible,” Meyers Taylor said after winning gold, per ESPN. She also became just the second woman ever in her 40s to compete in Olympic bobsled. The first? Fellow Team USA’er Kaillie Humphries Armbruster, 40, who raced just two minutes and 29 seconds before her.
Humphries Armbruster, whose three previous Olympic gold medals are the most of any female bobsledder ever, finished third, her fifth Olympic medal. I would simply never talk about anything else ever.
“You get a lot of people that like to write you off as soon as you reach 40, it’s all downhill from there, is what you hear. I think Elana and I are both proof that that’s not true,” Humphries Armbruster said after their win. “As soon as you become a mom, your body’s not the same, and you can never get that high performance back, and I think we were able to show that that’s not true again.”
I am starstruck, inspired, and irrationally convinced I, too, could maybe become an Olympic bobsledder.
Eleven years have passed since ISIS broadcasted a gruesome video on February 15th, 2015, of the beheading of 20 Copts and a Ghanaian on a beach in Libya. The men, who hail from villages in Upper Egypt, were labor migrants in Libya when ISIS kidnapped them on two separate occasions in December 2014 and January 2015. The 21 quickly became a haunting, global symbol of ISIS’ brutality, embroiling them in the politics of the global war on terror. This politicization of the 21 reflect the predicament of Christians in Egypt and the broader Middle East who are instrumentalized by various powerful actors—from the Egyptian government to the American religious right—for political gain.
This spectacle of death came to represent modern day martyrdom for the Coptic Orthodox Church. The Church canonized the 21 as saints and honored them as martyrs, designating February 15th as the day to honor modern-day Coptic martyrs. When the bodies of the 21 were finally located, exhumed, and returned to Egypt, they were laid to rest in the village of al-Our in Minya, the hometown of thirteen of the men. Today, the Church of the Martyrs of Faith and Homeland—which signifies them as both religious and national martyrs—has become a site of pilgrimage for many Christians who pray to the 21 martyred saints and seek their intercessions. These ordinary Egyptian migrants were transformed into martyrs, honored for gaining the kingdom of heaven at the hands of ISIS. This incident reifies a strong identity that the Orthodox Church is a Church of Martyrs and its adherents are descendants of martyrs.
While the process of martyr-making sanctifies the 21 men and their suffering, it obscures a more insidious politics. Coptic critics have argued that the discourse of Coptic martyrdom, advanced by the Coptic Church, teaches Copts to accept suffering and dissuades them from calling for their rights. Notably, the Church primarily recognizes victims of terrorism as religious martyrs, yet sidelines Coptic victims of state violence, exemplified by the Maspero Massacre. The glorification of martyrdom ultimately absolves the government from its duty to prevent these deaths altogether. This is part of an entente between the Coptic Orthodox Church and the Egyptian government, whereby the Church offers political support in exchange for protection. Rejection of the discourse of martyrdom has driven some politically conscious Copts away from the sanitizing discourse of martyrdom and towards political advocacy that holds accountable the state.
Indeed, when the Coptic men were initially kidnapped by ISIS, the Egyptian government did not act with urgency in response to families’ pleas to intervene. Yet immediately upon the release of ISIS’ video, the Egyptian government declared them “sons of Egypt,” announced seven days of national mourning, and ordered strikes on ISIS strongholds in Libya. The government capitalized on this incident to justify its global war on terror, arguing that all Christians and moderate Muslims are united in opposition to the existential threat of terrorism and political Islam. Under the guise of the war on terror, President Sisi has committed massive human rights abuses that has demolished civil society, even suppressing the political speech of Copts. While Copts were initially supportive of President Sisi, they are increasingly becoming disenchanted by his policies.
Though glorified as religious and national martyrs in the global war on terror, the victim’s families and the new Church were not protected from sectarianism on the ground. During the funeral, Egyptian officials announced that President Sisi had ordered the Armed Forces to build a Church in honor of the 21 Libya Martyrs in the heart of al-Our, the village where the majority of the men hail from. The announcement sparked protests by some Muslims against church construction, fueling sectarian tensions that even resulted in some throwing Molotov cocktails at the Church. After holding reconciliation councils to calm sectarian tensions, the government agreed to relocate the Church to the outskirts of al-Our instead. Even when victims of terrorism are glorified, they are not shielded from sectarianism and the failures of the state to regulate religious difference.
Image: Securitized entrance to the Church of the Martyrs of Faith and Homeland, al-Our, Minya, Egypt. Photo by Miray Philips, 2022.
The story of the 21 was not only significant to Copts and Egyptians, but reverberated globally, resonating with Christians worldwide. Within the Catholic Church, Pope Francis added the 21 to the Roman Martyrology, stating that “these martyrs were baptized not only in the water and Spirit, but also in blood, a blood that is the seed of unity for all of Christ’s followers.” A Catholic German author wrote a book about the 21, charting their journey towards martyrdom, and in the process characterizing them as exemplary Christians. A team of 70+ artists from across the world produced an animated film, shortlisted for the Oscars, in the style of neo-Coptic iconography, to counter the “propaganda” of ISIS’ video, and instead “showcase the spiritual victory won by the martyred saints.” These cultural materials are part of a broader repertoire of media, books, and songs about Christian martyrdom globally.
The American Religious Right have become some of the loudest advocates on behalf of Middle Eastern Christians. “Christianity is under unprecedented assault in those ancient lands where it first grew,” declared Vice President Mike Pence at a 2017 dinner hosted by In Defense of Christians. On behalf of the Trump Administration, he vowed to fight these “radical Islamic terrorists” who were driven by a “hatred for Christians.” The framework of the war on terror resonates with an audience that view the rise of Islamist violence as the ultimate threat to a civilized Christian America after 9/11.
Leaders from the American religious right found allies in authoritarian regimes, including President Sisi, in safeguarding Middle East Christians and fighting the war on terror. They argued that authoritarianism is better than political Islam for the survival of Christianity in the region. Evangelical delegations have visited President Sisi to discuss Christians religious freedom, terrorism, and Israel. In 2019, Evangelical leaders, Mike Pompeo, Joel Rosenberg and Johnnie Moore attended the inauguration of the largest Cathedral in Egypt by President Sisi and Coptic Pope Tawadros II. Upon their return, Joel Rosenberg and Johnnie Moore opined that President Sisi “deserves the friendship and support of the United States” for his efforts to “fight violent extremism, protect religious freedom, and promote peaceful coexistence.” They forged a political friendship over a shared enemy in Islamic terrorism.
The story of the 21 Martyrs does not only shape US foreign policy towards the Middle East, but also animates domestic anxieties about the status of Christians in the United States. The American Religious Right cite growing secularism, the spread of a “gender ideology,” the legalization of same-sex marriage and abortion as evidence of a war on Christians. President Trump has vowed to protect Christians in the United States and Middle East. Ahead of the 2025 election, Trump tweeted at the Coptic community, appealing to their “Steadfast Faith in God, Perseverance through Centuries of Persecution and Love for this Great Country” to vote him into office. The discourse of a global war on Christians is deeply intertwined with domestic anxieties about Christian persecution.
In asserting their own Christian persecution in the United States, members of the American Religious Right appeal to the imagery of Coptic martyrdom. The day before the 2021 January 6th Capitol Insurrection, Eric Metaxas, a Trump-supporting author and radio-host personality, tweeted a still image of the 21 martyrs kneeling in orange jumpsuits with the caption, “What price are you willing to pay for what you believe in?” Metaxas was equating Trump’s election loss to the beheading of Copts by ISIS, calling on his followers to sacrifice for their political beliefs. The tweet raised the ire of many Copts who rejected the politicization of the 21 by the American Religious Right.
Despite these political optics, critics have warned that President Trump’s Administration has fallen short on their religious freedom promises, failing religious groups domestically and Christians in the Middle East. While Trump has promised to protect Middle Eastern Christians, and has indeed won their political support, his immigration policies have directly harmed these communities. Refugee bans have made it more difficult for Christians fleeing violence to seek refuge in the United States. ICE raids and a wave of deportations targeted the Chaldean Iraqi enclave in Detroit. President Trump has also tried to ban the Diversity Visa Lottery, the pathway through which many Coptic Christians migrate to the United States. Declarations to protect Middle Eastern Christians do not translate to actual protections on American soil.
The politicization of persecution obscures a simpler story about hardship and abandonment. The 21 were men who were forced to leave the comfort of their homes for economic mobility. The day after ISIS released the video, a grieving father apologized to his son for not having “enough money to keep you from going to this place.” At the memorial Church in al-Our, next to the coffin of Milad Makeen Zaky Hanna, are his bloodied orange jumpsuit and zip ties, alongside his Egyptian passport and a note about money owed. In pursuit of a better life, these men found themselves in danger and neglected.
Only in their deaths have these 21 men become glorified symbols. While the process of martyr-making by the Church, Egyptian government, and the American religious right sanctifies the 21 men and their suffering, it also sanitizes their death in pursuit of a global war on terror.
Image: The personal items of victim Milad Makeen Zaky Hanna at the Church of the Martyrs of Faith and Homeland, al-Our, Minya, Egypt. Photo by Miray Philips, 2022.
Born in 1930 in Chicago, Hansberry grew up in the upper middle class part of the Black community in that city. Her father made a ton of money in real estate. In 1938, they desegregated a white neighborhood, which was a physically risky thing to do. The way this usually worked was that someone would sell a house to a Black family, often because they didn’t care who they sold to and sometimes because they thought integration was good anyway. The locals would be outraged and commit violence and then they would all put their houses up for sale and move to some other cracker land. In this case though, there was a restrictive covenant involved. Hansberry’s father sued and it went all the way to the Supreme Court in 1940. In Hansberry v. Lee, the court decided 6-3 more or less in favor of Hansberry. It didn’t totally strike down restrictive covenants, but it laid the groundwork for Shelley v. Kraemer, which did do that, in 1948.
With that kind of badass background, big things were expected of young Lorraine. She delivered on those expectations. It didn’t hurt that they were friends with everyone–W.E.B. DuBois, Jesse Owens,Duke Ellington, Paul Robeson. Lorraine went to the University of Wisconsin. She became a member of the Communist Party. Her father was a Republican and of course a real estate guy and I wonder how that would have gone, but he had died in 1946 of a heart attack. She was big on the Henry Wallace campaign in 1948 and then did some art training in Guadalajara, embracing the art and social scene in Mexico at a time when it was still pretty welcoming to leftists and artists.
By 1951, Hansberry had moved to New York to get involved in both politics and art. She became enmeshed in the Harlem scene, which perhaps wasn’t quite as groundbreaking in terms of importance as the peak of the Harlem Renaissance 25 years earlier, but was still a critically important site of Black American cultural production. She got to know almost everyone immediately, including all-time legends such as Robeson and DuBois. She worked on Freedom, the important Black paper of the early 50s that brought a lot of discussion of the anti-colonialist struggles into the greater interest readers had in what was going on in the U.S. She started just as a typist but eventually became associate editor.
Shortly after getting to New York, Hansberry married a Jewish activist and songwriter named Robert Nemiroff, but in truth, she was a lesbian who was in the closet for most of her short life, as so many were in the 50s. They separated in 1957 and she started getting in touch with the lesbians in the Daughters of Bilitis, the important early homophile organization that laid so much groundwork for the modern gay rights movement, even if it was on terms that would make contemporary queer activists sometimes feel like they were sellouts (and to be honest, sometimes some of the more radical activists at the time felt that way too). She even started writing–very tentatively–for their magazine, using initials only and just a couple of letters. But she and Nemiroff remained close, even as she slowly moved toward coming out. It didn’t hurt that he wrote a huge hit pop song called “Cindy Oh Cindy,” which was adapted from a Sea Islands folk song and which The Weavers and then The Kingston Trio went big with. So the money from that basically allowed her to write full time without working. They would eventually divorce in 1962, but remained close friends.
Of course, what Hansberry is truly known for today is her 1959 play A Raisin in the Sun, one of the most important plays ever written in this country. She reached back to her Chicago roots for the play about a family whose father died and who will get an insurance payout but then also facing that even money can’t overcome the structural racism faced by Black Americans, particularly in buying a home in a white neighborhood. The play, with its all-Black cast except for one character, had many of the biggest stars of the day in it, most notably Sidney Poitier in the lead, but also Ivan Dixon, Ruby Dee, and Louis Gossett, Jr. After Poitier left the production for other work, Ossie Davis took over the part. This was the first play written by a Black woman to be produced on Broadway. On Opening Night, Hansberry did not want to accept the cheers and accolades the audience provided and so Poitier basically pulled her onto the stage to accept her due. Hansberry also wrote the screenplay for the film version, which of course wasn’t that different.
The success of Raisin in the Sun did forestall much more work happening, though eventually it probably would have. She worked on things, of course. But the only other play she got through to completion and staging in her lifetime was 1962’s The Sign in Sidney Brustein’s Window, which was about a Jewish artist in New York in a bad marriage. I don’t think it was really based on her marriage though. The play was not particularly well-received though. I do wonder how much of that is that reviewers wanted her to focus on the Black experience and not write a play about Jews, a sort of authenticity argument I am sure was part of the story. It got staged in 1964 and by this time, Hansberry was really sick. Gabriell Dell and Rita Moreno were the stars.
Up to the end, Hansberry worked on politics as much as literature. Like many in her generation, she was deeply committed not only to the civil rights cause at home but the anti-colonial cause in Africa. The term “internal colonialism” does such a great job of placing the Black Freedom Struggle in the U.S. in this proper context of global anti-colonialism. James Baldwin set up a meeting with her and Robert Kennedy to push the Kennedy administration on civil rights, which it wasn’t very good at and to the end of her all too short days, she wrote and fought for justice on a global scale.
One of the great tragedies of American letters and really just of America generally is Hansberry developing pancreatic cancer at such a young age. She died in 1965, at the age of 34. One of the biggest “what could have been”s ever. Even outside of her writing, she would have contributed so much to the feminist and gay rights movements as she likely would have been more comfortable on those issues as they became more mainstream.
Lorraine Hansberry is buried in Bethel Cemetery, Croton-on-Hudson, New York.
If you would like this series to visit other American playwrights, you can donate to cover the required expenses here. Neil Simon is in Pound Ridge, New York and August Wilson is in Sharpsburg, Pennsylvania. Previous posts in this series are archived here and here.
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