Looking at one of them, Ahmad said to himself, "Alawiya Sabri". The name galvanized him. She was a young woman with an Egyptian version of Turkish beauty. Slender and of medium height, she had a fair complexion and coal-black hair. Her wide black eyes had lofty eyelids, and her eyebrows met in the center. She was distinguished by her aristocratic demeanor and refined gestures. Moreover, she was a classmate in the first university year. He had learned and there is no end of infomiation that an inquiring mind may acquire that she had put her name down for sociology, just as he had. Although he had not yet had a chance to exchange a single word with her, she had aroused his interest at first sight. For yearshe had ga2ed admiringly at Na'ima, but she had never shaken him to the core. This girl was truly remarkable, and he looked forward to a platonic and possibly a romantic relationship with her.
Once the flock was out of sight again, Hilmi Izzat said, "Soon the Arts Faculty is going to resemble a women's college."
Looking from one to another of the Arts students in the semicircle, Ridwan Yasin warned, "Don't trust the friendship of law students who visit you frequently in your college between lectures. Their intentions are quite reprehensible". He laughed loudly, even though he was anything but happy then. Talking about the girls made him uneasy and sad.
"Why are girls so interested in the Arts Faculty?"
"Because the teaching profession offers them more opportunities than most others."
Hilmi Izzat said, "That's true, but there's also something feminine about instruction in the arts. Rouge, manicures, kohl for eyes, poetry, and stories all fall into one category."
Everyone laughed, even Ahmad, and despite their vigorous protests the other Arts students joined in. Ahmad retorted, "This unfair judgment applies equally to medicine. For a long time nursing has been considered a woman's job. The truth not yet firmly established in your souls is that men and women must be believed to be equal."
Smiling, Abd al-Muni'm said, "I don't know whether we praise or censure women when we call them our equals."
"If it's a question of rights and duties, then it's praise, not blame."
Abd al-Muni'm continued: "Islam holds men and women to be equal except with regard to inheritance."
Ahmad responded sarcastically, "Even in slavery it has treated them equally."
Abd al-Muni'm protested furiously, "You don't know anything about your religion. That's the tragedy."
Turning to Ridwan Yasin, Hilmi Izzat smilingly inquired, "What do you know about Islam?"
Another student asked Hilmi, "And how about you?"
Abd al-Muni'm asked his brother, Ahmad, "What knowledge of yours lets you blather on so?"
Ahmad replied calmly, "I know it's a religion, and that's enough for me. I don't believe in religions."
Abd al-Muni'm asked disapprovingly, "Do you have some proof that all religions are false?"
"Do you have any proof they're true?"
Raising his voice enough to make the young man sitting between the two brothers look from one to the other of them with some agitation, Abd al-Muni'm said, "I do. Every Believer does. But allow me to ask you first what you live by."
"My own personal beliefs… in science, humanity, and the future. These beliefs entail various duties intended to help establish a new order on earth."
"You destroy everything that makes man a human being."
"Say rather that the survival of a creed for more than a thousand years is not a sign of its strength but of the degradation of some human beings, for this flies in the face of life's normal process of renewal. Conduct and ideas appropriate for me when I was a child should change now that I am a man. For a long time people worshipped nature and other human beings. We can overcome our servitude to nature through science and inventions. Slavery to other human beings should be opposed by progressive theories. Anything else is a brake obstructing the free movement of humanity's wheel."
Disgusted by the thought that Ahmad was his brother, Abd al-Muni'm remarked, "It's easy to be an atheist. It's a simple, escapist solution, allowing you to shirk a Believer's responsibilities to his Lord, to himself, and to other people. No proof for atheism is any stronger than those for faith. Thus we do not choose by our intellects but by our conduct."
Ridwan interjected, "Don't let yourselves get carried away by the fury of your debate. Since you're brothers, the best thing would be for you to take the same side."
Hilmi Izzat, who was afflicted at times by inexplicable moments of rebelliousness, burst out, "Faith! Humanity! The future!.. What rubbish! The only possible system is one based entirely on science. There is only one thing we need to believe in, and that is the extermination of human weakness in all its manifestations, no matter h ow stern our science seems. The goal is to bring humanity to an ideal condition, pure and powerful."
"Are these the new principles of the Wafd Party, subsequent to the treaty?"
Hilmi Izzat laughed, and this restored him to his normal good humor. Ridwan explained, "He's really a Wafdist but occasionally entertains bizarre and alien notions. He advocates killing everyone, when it may simply mean that he didn't sleep well the night before."
The reaction to this fierce quarrel was universal silence, which pleased Ridwan. His eyes roamed around, following some kites that circled overhead or gazing at the groups of palm trees. Everyone else felt free to express his opinion, even if it attacked his Creator. Yet he was compelled to conceal the controversies raging in his own soul, where they would remain a terrifying secret that threatened him. He might as well have been a scapegoat or an alien. Who had divided human behavior into normal and deviant? How could an adversary also serve as judge? Why were wretched people so often mocked?
Ridwan told Abd al-Muni'm, "Don't be angry. Religion has a Lord to protect it. As for you, in nine months at the most, you'll be a father."
"Is that so?"
Trying to appease his brother, Ahmad joked, "It's easier for me to confront God's wrath than yours."
Ahmad told himself, "Whether he's angry or not, when he returns to Sugar Street he'll find a sympathetic breast waiting for him. Is it ridiculous to think I'll return one day to find Alawiya Sabri waiting for me on the first floor of our house?"
He laughed, but no one suspected the true reason for his mirth.
136
There appeared to bean unusual flurry of activity at the home of Abd al-Rahim Pasha Isa. Many people were standing in the garden or sitting on the veranda, and there was a constant flow of men amving or departing. Hilmi Izzat nudged Ridwan Yasin's arm as they neared the house and observed with relief, "Contrary to the claims of their newspapers, we are not without our supporters."
As the two made their way inside, some of the young men shouted, "Long live solidarity!" Ridwan's face became flushed from excitement. He was as zealous a rebel as the others but wondered anxiously whether anyone suspected the nonpolitical side to his visits. Once when he had confided his fears to Hilmi Izzat, the latter had said, "Only cowards get suspected. Proceed with head held high and resolute steps. People preparing for public life shouldn't pay too much attention to what others think of them."
Sitting in the reception room was a crowd of students, workers, and members of the Wafd organization. Abd al-Rahim Pasha Isa, looking uncustomarily grim, serious, and stern, sat at the front of the room with the aura of an important statesman. When the two young men approached, he rose to greet them gravely. After shaking hands, he gestured for them to be seated.
One of the men sitting there resumed a discussion he had interrupted when the two arrived: "Public opinion was shocked to learn the names of the members of the new cabinet, for they did not find al-Nuqrashi's among them."
Abd al-Rahim Pasha Isa replied, "We suspected something as soon as the cabinet resigned, especially since the dispute had become so well known that it was even the talk of the coffeehouses. But al-Nuqrashi is not like other members of the Wafd. The party has sacked many, but no one with so much support. Al-Nuqrashi is entirely different
. Don't forget that al-Nuqrashi implies Ahmad Mahir too. They are the Wafd — the Wafd Party that has struggled, disputed, and fought. Ask the gallows, prisons, and bombs. This time the disagreement is not one that will dishonor those who leave the Wafd, for the regime's integrity and the bombing case are both in question. If the worst happens and the party is split, those who remain will be the deserters, not al-Nuqrashi and Mahir."
"Makram Ubayd has finally shown his true colors."
This statement sounded odd to Ridwan. It was hard for him to believe that such a prominent leader would be attacked this way by stalwart Wafdists.
Someone else remarked, "Makram Ubayd is the source of all this trouble, Your Excellency."
Abd al-Rahim Pasha replied, "The others are just as guilty."
"But he's the one who can't abide his rivals. He wants to control al-Nahhas all by himself Once Mahir and al-Nuqrashi are out of the way, there will be no one to oppose him."
"If he could get rid of al-Nahhas, he would."
An elderly man sitting there said, "Please, don't exaggerate. The streams may return to their banks."
"After a cabinet has been formed without al-Nuqrashi?"
"Everything is possible."
"That would have been possible in Sa'd Zaghlul's era, but al-Nahhas is an obstinate man. When he's made up his mind…."
At this point a man rushed in. The pasha greeted him at the center of the room. As they embraced each other warmly, the pasha asked, "When did you return? How's Alexandria?"
"Great… great! Al-Nuqrashi was welcomed at the Sidi Gabir station by unprecedented popular acclaim. Swarms of educated people shouted their heartfelt greetings. In their fury, they called rebelliously for integrity in government. They cried out, 'Long live al-Nuqrashi, the honest leader. Long live al-Nuqrashi, Sa'd's true successor.' Many shouted, 'Long live al-Nuqrashi, leader of the nation.'"
The man was speaking in a loud voice, and several of those listening repeated his slogans until Abd al-Rahim Pasha had to gesture for them to be calm. Then the man continued: "Public opinion is angry about the cabinet, outraged that al-Nuqrashi has been ousted from it. Al-Nahhas has done himself irreparable harm by consenting to support the devil against this pure angel."
Abd al-Rahim Pasha observed, "We're in August now. The University reopens in October. The showdown should come then. We must start preparing for the demonstrations. If al-Nahhas doesn't return to his senses, he can go to hell."
Hilmi Izzat said, "Rest assured that a great number of student demonstrations will converge on al-Nuqrashi's home."
Abd al-Rahim Pasha commented, "Everything needs to be organized. Meet with your student supporters and make your preparations. Moreover, according to my information, an incredible number of deputies and senators will side with us."
"Al-Nuqrashi was the founder of the Wafdist committees. Don't forget that. Telegrams of support pile up in his office from dawn to dusk."
Ridwan wondered what was happening to the world. Would the Wcifd Party be divided again? Was Makram Ubayd truly responsible for this? Were the best interests of the nation really compatible with a split in the party that had represented it for eigb teen years?
The exchange of views lasted a long time as the men assembled there di scussed how to make their views known and how to run the demonstrations. Then they started to leave. At last only the pasha, Ridwan, and Hilmi Izzat remained. Invited by their host to move to the veranda, they followed him outside. The three sat around a table and were immediately served lemonade. Shortly thereafter a man in his forties appeared at the door. From previous visits Ridwan recognized him as Ali Mihran, an aide to the pasha. The man's appearance showed a natural inclination toward frivolity and mirth. He was accompanied by a young fellow in his twenties with a handsome countenance. Unruly hair, long side curls, and a broad necktie suggested that this stranger was an artist by profession. With a smile on his lips, Ali Mihran advanced, kissed the pasha's hand, and shook hands with the two visitors. Then he introduced the newcomer: "Mr. Atiya Jawdat, a young but gifted singer. Your Excellency, I've mentioned him to you before."
Putting on his glasses, which he had laid on the table, the pasha examined the young man carefully. Smiling, he said, "Welcome, Mr. Atiya. I've heard a lot about you. Perhaps we'll hear you yourself this time."
The singer invoked God's blessings on the pasha and sat down, while /di Mihran leaned over the pasha to ask, "How are you, Uncle?" That was what he called the pasha when formalities could be ignored.
Grinning, the man replied, "A thousand times better than you are."
With uncustomary earnestness, Ali Mihran said, "At the Anglo Bar people are whispering about a possible nationalist cabinet headed by al-Nuqrashi…."
The pasha smiled diplomatically and murmured, "We're not in line for the cabinet."
With anxious interest Ridwan inquired, "What grounds are there for these rumors? I naturally can't imagine that al-Nuqrashi would plot like Muhammad Mahmud or Isma'il Sidqy to bring down the government."
Ali Mihran said, "A plot? No. At present it's merely a question of convincing a majority of the senators and deputies to join us. Don't forget that the king is on our side. Ali Mahir goes about his work deliberately and wisely."
Ridwan asked dejectedly, "Will we end up being the king's men?"
Abd al-Rahim Pasha observed, "That sounds bad, but the expression means something different now. Faruq is quite unlike his father, King Fuad. Circumstances have changed. The present king is an enthusiastic young nationalist. He's the one wronged by al-Nahhas's unfair attacks."
Ali Mihran rubbed his hands together gleefully as he said, "When do you suppose we'll be congratulating the pasha on his cabinet post? Will you choose me to assist you in the ministry just as you've had me help you with your other affairs?"
Laughing, the pasha said, "No, I'll appoint you director general of prisons, for that's your natural milieu."
"Prison? But they say it's for brutes."
"It takes in other types too. Don't worry about it". Suddenly overcome by annoyance, he cried out, "That's enough politics! Change the mood, please". Turning toward Mr. Atiya, he asked, "What are you going to sing for us?"
Ali Mihran interjected, "The pasha is a connoisseur who delights in music and good times. If your singing appeals to him, you'll find the way open for you to have your songs broadcast."
Atiya Jawdat said gently, "I've recently set to music some lyrics entitled 'They bound me to him,' composed by Mr. Mihran."
Staring at his aide, the pasha asked, "How long have you been writing songs?"
"Didn't I spend seven years at the seminary of al-Azhar, immersed in the study of Arabic and its meters?"
"What's the relationship between al-Azhar and your naughty songs? 'They bound me to him'! Who ishe, my dear seminarian?"
"The answer's hiding behind your beard, Your Excellency."
"You son of an old hag!"
Ali Mihran summoned the butler, and the pasha asked, "Why are you calling him?"
"To set up for the music."
Rising, the politician said, "Wait till I perform the evening prayers."
Mihran smiled wickedly and asked, "When we touched in greeting, didn't that end your state of ritual cleanliness?"
137
Leaning on his stick, Ahmad Abd al-Jawad left his house with slow steps. Things had changed. Since the liquidation of his store, he left home but once a day, for he tried to spare himself the stress that climbing the stairs put on his heart. Although it was only September, he had chosen wool garments. His thin frame could no longer bear the brisk weather his plump and powerful body had once enjoyed. The stick, which had been his companion since he was a young man, when it had been a symbol of virility and of elegance, now helped support him as he plodded along slowly. Even this level of exertion was a trial for his heart. All the same he had not lost his dapper good looks. He still dressed quite splendidly, used a fragrant cologne, and took full advantage of the charm and dignity
of old age.
When he drew near the store, his eyes glanced toward it involuntarily. The sign that had borne his name and his father's for years and years had been removed, and the appearance and use of the establishment had changed. It had become a fez shop, where new ones were sold and old ones blocked. The copper forms and the heating apparatus were up in front. He imagined he saw a placard, invisible to everyone else, informing him that his time had passed… his time for serious endeavors, hard work, and pleasure. Retreating into retirement, he had turned his back on hope, finding himself face to face with old age, ill health, and the need to idle his time away. He had always been full of love for the world and its pleasures. Often he still was, but now his spirits sank. He had considered faith itself one of the joys of life and a reason for embracing the world. He had never not even now pursued the kind of ascetic piety that turns its back on the world and concerns itself solely with the afterlife. The store was no longer his, but how could he erase its memory from his mind, when it had been the hub of his activities, the focus of his attention, the meeting place for his friends and lovers, and the source of his renown and prestige?
"You may console yourself by saying, 'We've found husbands for the girls and reared the boys. We've lived to see our grandchildren. We have enough money to keep us till we die. We've experienced life's delights for years.' Has it really been years? 'Now the time has come for us to show our gratitude, and it is our obligation to thank God always and forever.' But oh how nostalgic I feel…. May God forgive time — time, which by the mere fact of its uninterrupted existence betrays man in the worst possible way. If stones could speak, I would ask this site to inform me about the past, to tell me if this body could really crush mountains once. Did this sick heart beat regularly then? Did this mouth do anything but laugh? Was pain an unknown emotion? Was this the image of me treasured by every heart? … Again, I ask God to forgive time."
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