Authors: Naguib Mahfouz
“Yet it was a tempting opportunity to renew Islam—the Islamic State rising from a rejuvenated Egypt.”
“I comprehend that completely,” enthused Akhenaten, “and I hail your ambition to reinvigorate the state of the One and Only Divinity.”
“If only you had put your genius and your dreams to the strengthening of Egypt,” lamented Khufu, “and contented yourself with that.”
“You did not believe enough in the people,” Abnum berated him. “Nor was your love for them sufficient for you to devote your real efforts to their revitalization and support. You exploited the peasants for the sake of the land and the state, when you should have set every institution at the service of the people. Yet only someone like me would think this way. However, one cannot forget in your favor that you also drove the peasants into the fields of administration, politics, the military, and science.”
“For that reason,” insisted Isis, “I consider this alien viceroy as one of my sons.”
“If this were the court that would seal your final fate,” Osiris addressed him, “it would hand you a harsh critique and a wounding rebuke—while preserving your right to a seat among the Immortals. Accordingly, we shall send a report to your Islamic trial in praise of your majestic achievements, conveying therein a recommendation on behalf of your person from Egypt and her gods.”
57
H
ORUS HAILED
, “Ahmad Urabi!”
A tall, corpulent man of dignified mien came in and stood before the throne.
Osiris invited him to speak.
“I memorized the Qur’an as a child in my village in al-Sharqiya,” Ahmad Urabi replied, “and enrolled in the military academy at the age of fourteen. I attained the rank of Qaimqam, the first Egyptian to reach that level. The higher grades were reserved for those of Circassian origins—the Egyptians were scorned in their own country. I persuaded some of my colleagues to demand the dismissal of the minister of war, a prejudiced Circassian—and when we were arrested, the patriotic troops rose up to demand our release. I felt the people’s sense of debasement, and moved with the army to Abdin Palace to insist on the king’s abdication and the creation of a popular assembly.
“The khedive told me, ‘I inherited this country as my personal fief, and who are you but slaves of our beneficence?’ In reply I told him, ‘God created us all free, not as possessions or real estate. By the God but for whom there is no other god, we will not be passed on as inheritance nor be enslaved after this day.’
“We were victorious over the enemies of the people, and established a popular assembly and a nationalist government, when the foreign powers intervened to prevent the people from controlling their own affairs, out of fear for their interests. The khedive and some of his opportunistic followers betrayed the homeland, coming to an agreement with our English foes. Although we defended our nation with everything we had, we still were defeated. They sentenced us to exile for life, and the expropriation of our possessions.”
“But you challenged the occupant of the throne,” said Khufu, “and reproached him in ways that one does not do to kings!”
“Times change, O king, for monarchs no longer rule as the deputies of God,” Osiris told him, “but with the participation of the people.”
“Sharing power with the peasants means chaos,” rebutted Khufu.
“Rather, it’s a bold undertaking on the road to virtue,” asserted Abnum.
“The khedive and his followers were foreigners,” said Ahmad Urabi.
“The unity of Egypt was forged out of differing kinds of people,” said Menes, “who all joined together to create a nation, and who were loyal to the throne.”
“I only battled those who disdained from joining with the rest of us,” explained Ahmad Urabi, “and the proof is that my party also had members of Circassian descent.”
“Why didn’t you kill the khedive,” demanded Abnum, “and install a new royal family of commoner blood?”
“My goal was to liberate the people,” answered Urabi, “and for them to share the responsibility of rule.”
“It would have been better to kill him,” repeated Abnum. “But, in any case, you get much credit for guarding the people’s rights.”
“The situation required military leadership of exceptional genius,” said Thutmose II. “Unfortunately, you were not endowed with anything of the kind.”
“I gave everything I had,” pleaded Urabi.
“You should have fought until death alongside your troops,” scolded Ramesses II.
“And you should have eliminated all your enemies in order to throttle treason in its cradle,” added Abnum.
“You are a good-hearted man,” said Akhenaten, “whose end was the one fated for all with this virtue.”
“You launched a revolution to free the people—and gained a foreign occupation for them, instead,” concluded the Sage Ptahhotep.
“This is a son of Egypt, whose heart is full of good intentions,” said Isis. “He gave the people his limitless love and his limited ability. His foes plotted to put down his revolution—yet they could not extirpate the seed of freedom that he had planted in our good soil.”
“I consider you a light beaming in the darkness that had descended on your country,” Osiris told him. “You were punished during your lifetime and so have paid for your mistakes. Perhaps you will gain blessings in your final trial—we shall not withhold praise for the merit you have earned.”
58
H
ORUS CALLED OUT
, “Mustafa Kamil!”
A slender, sweet-featured man came in, with head uncovered and feet unshod, and stood before the throne.
Osiris invited him to speak.
“I came to consciousness as a pupil during the British occupation. I hated it and resolved to combat it—this is what I felt when only a student. One day, His Honor the Khedive, Abbas Hilmi II, came to visit our school, and I greeted him with a passionately patriotic speech that found an echo in his own youth and nationalism. From that time onward we became close collaborators, and he provided me with encouragement and money to be rid of foreign control. I developed similar relations with the caliph and the Islamic League. As for my own aspiration, it was always for the freedom and independence of Egypt—which is why I changed my relations with Abbas Hilmi when he reached a
modus vivendi
with the enemy.
“Things were such that the people had given up hope, but I did not stint from awakening their national awareness, through word of mouth, the press, and public speaking. Likewise I advocated the nationalist cause abroad, until the liberals of Europe—especially in France—knew of it as well. And when the British carried out their great crime in Denshaway, I denounced their vicious deeds and decried the sentences that the puppet court had pronounced on the innocent people of that village. I shook the throne of the English despotism in Egypt until I forced their nation to reconsider it. Then I founded the Nationalist Party, the first political party formed in Egypt. Its program called for the withdrawal of foreign troops and a constitution within the dominion of the Ottoman State. I kept on waging this jihad both inside and outside the country, until I gave up the ghost while still quite young.”
“Didn’t the British kill you?” asked Psamtek III.
“No, they did not,” Mustafa Kamil replied.
“That is odd,” said Psamtek III. “In my time we had the Persian occupation, just as you had the English in yours. Like you, I strove to arouse patriotic awareness—and when Cambyses learned of this, he ordered my execution without hesitation. How could the British let you go unpunished?”
“The occupiers had taken total control of the country,” answered Mustafa Kamil. “They could afford to permit a certain degree of freedom that in fact they despised, but which made them look as though they respected such principles in the eyes of the world.”
“But weren’t you exposed to palpable harm?”
“The occupation concealed its hatred of me, while inciting its friends to attack me.”
“Your age granted you clemency such as I did not receive even a part of in my own day,” remarked Psamtek III. “In truth, I have never known a holy warrior as fortunate as you. You enjoyed the support of the khedive, the caliph, and the Islamic League, smiting your foes both at home and abroad without any penalty. You won glory and fame without paying a price, and were not slaughtered as I myself was. Nor were you exiled, like Ahmad Urabi.”
“Ahmad Urabi was a traitor,” spat Mustafa Kamil, “who drew foreign occupiers into the country.”
“How can you accuse the man of treason when he did not rise in rebellion or endure banishment from his homeland except to defend the right of your people! And what was the traitor but the father of your friend, aide, and loyal supporter? Yet in your testimony he had betrayed his country, like his father before him.”
“I consider him to be the foremost of those to responsible for the occupation,” sneered Mustafa Kamil.
“You are an ardently patriotic lad,” proclaimed Abnum, “you were lucky enough to live your life in the fragrant atmosphere of the throne, the caliphate, and French civilization, without smelling the odor of sweaty labor, nor suffering the pains of true struggle. Nor do you refrain from defaming a true revolutionary.”
“He is a son that awoke nationalist zeal and enthusiasm,” said Isis, “when the occupation had nearly snuffed them out.”
Osiris then faced him.
“It was not in your power to do more than you did, and we shall not forget the favor in your words,” he assured Mustafa Kamil. “Go to your final trial with our heartfelt regards.”
59
H
ORUS HERALDED
, “Muhammad Farid!”
A medium-built man with a plump face walked in, wearing nothing on his head or his feet, until he stood before the throne.
“Coming from an ancient, aristocratic family,” said Muhammad Farid, “I shared Mustafa Kamil’s nationalist stance from the start. For this reason, I resigned from the government to devote myself to the patriotic cause above all else. My bond with Mustafa Kamil grew so strong that he named me as his successor to lead our party. I followed his ideology, his way of speaking to crowds and of writing, until I was arrested and tossed into prison. There they tried to persuade me to soften my position in exchange for a pardon, but I rejected any deal. After I got out, I was even more stubborn and refractory than before.
“I traveled throughout the country, making the case for nationalism, and they conspired to send me to prison with the leaders of the party. I decided to emigrate in order to carry on agitating from abroad. We crafted our escape at the right time and successfully got away. And as much as we were able to accomplish some things outside the country, the party was also subject to weakness and fragmentation within. We bore the bitterness of longing for Egypt and our families, and many people spurned us. Then the 1919 Revolution broke out back home, a totally unexpected revolt, one that never had occurred to my mind. It happened while I was forgotten in exile, while others sat on the leader’s chair instead of me.
“We proclaimed our satisfaction with the movement’s bosses without believing that most of them were sincere, congratulating the masses for their courage. We cheered the memory of their martyrs and urged them to hold steadfast until the end. My life ended while I was yet banned from returning to Egypt.”
“A satisfactory leadership indeed, given what it faced in suppression,” said Psamtek III.
“You could well have savored a voluptuous life,” said the Sage Ptahhotep, “and high rank common to men of your wealthy class. But you left all that entirely and chose struggle and agony for the sake of Egypt. You are a great man indeed …”
“Tell me how a leader abandons his country in a time of disaster, to fight for it in a foreign land?” demanded Abnum.
“They planned to put us in prison,” said Muhammad Farid.
“But the leader of the just cause knows that he is made for imprisonment or death,” insisted Abnum, “not for waging his jihad abroad.”
“Jihad outside the homeland had been a part of our nationalist strategy since the days of Mustafa Kamil.”
“That was accepted as an auxiliary element to help complete the original mission inside the country,” Abnum corrected him. “But for you and the rest of the leadership to leave your party with no actual leaders in your absence was anything but brave or wise behavior. The fact is, you were notables that I would have put to death in my own revolution without any mercy. You loved being patriotic leaders as well as the respect and position that this had brought you. Yet you couldn’t deal with real struggle—and the detention, torture, or death that comes along with it. Instead, you ditched your duty when things got rough, in order to conduct a nice, safe holy war abroad. Doing so, you became responsible for the weakness and division that afflicted the nationalist movement.
“And so I was staggered by your surprise that a revolution had flared up among the people, though at the same time amazed at your lofty feelings of victimhood when they chose a leader other than you. You seem to have viewed the leadership as an inherited birthright that passes within your class like money and land—even after you’ve fled the field of battle.”
“You’re repeating what our enemies used to say!” exclaimed Muhammad Farid.
“I do not deny your patriotism,” admitted Abnum. “But your love of Egypt was entwined with your deep-set contempt for the Egyptians. The feeling of loyalty to a nominal identity never left you, while inevitably your life turned to tragedy, because the leader of the people had to be of the people—one marked by human greatness, not aristocratic grandeur.”
“As for me,” spoke up Isis, “I see him as one of the best of my sons, in character, sincerity, and national feeling. Nothing more could be asked of him, considering the circumstances of his birth and upbringing.”
“From us, you have a certificate backed by esteem and affection,” Osiris promised Muhammad Farid. “Go to your final trial with our sincerest good wishes for a fortuitous verdict.”
60
H
ORUS HAILED
, “Saad Zaghloul!”