in body. His spirit was hovering over Sugar Street, inquiring about
the new arrival he had been awaiting for months, in hopes of learning
its secret.
He had once seen a cat give birth when he was not quite six. She
had attracted his attention with her piercing meows. He had rushed
to her finding her on the roof under the arbor of hyacinth beans,
writhing in pain with her eyes bulging out. When he saw her body
part with an inflamed bit of meat, he had backed away in disgust,
screaming as loudly as he could. This memory haunted his mind, and
he felt the same old disgust. It was a pesky, distressing memory,
encompassing him like a fog, but he refused to let himself be frightened.
He could not imagine any connection between the cat and
Aisha, except the slight relationship between an animal and a human
being, whom he believed to be as far apart as earth from heaven. But
what was going on in Sugar Street, then? What strange things were
happening to Aisha? These were vexing questions that appeared to
have no easy answers. The moment he got out of school that afternoon
he dashed off at full speed to Sugar Street.
He was panting when he entered the courtyard of the Shawkat
residence. He went to the door of the women's quarters but chanced
to peer into the reception room. To his chagrin, he found himself
looking straight into his father's eyes. The man was sitting down,
grasping with both hands the top of the walking stick held between
his legs. Kamal froze, staring as though hypnotized, not blinking or
moving. He felt he must have unwittingly done something wrong.
He waited for the punishment to fall on him, as the chill of fear
spread through his limbs. Then al-Sayyid Ahmad started talking to,
the person sitting beside him and turned in that direction. Irnat
PALACE WALK
averted his eyes and swallowed. He caught a glimpse of Ibrahim
Shawkat, Yasin, and Fahmy in the pavilion before he fled. He leapt
up the stairs till he reached Aisha's floor. The door was partway open
and he went in. There he found Khalil Shawkat, Aisha's husband,
standing in the sitting room. He noticed that the bedroom door was
dosed. He could hear voices conversing inside. He recognized those
of his mother and Widow Shawkat, but there was a third he did not
know. He said hello to Khalil and, looking up at him with smiling
eyes, asked, "Has Aisha had her baby yet?"
The man put a finger to his lips to caution him and said, "Hush."
Kamal realized that he and his question were not welcome, although
Khalil usually greeted him warmly. Kamal was embarrassed
and felt uneasy for no particular reason. He wanted to go over to the
dosed door but was stopped by Khalil's voice yelling at him peremptorily,
"No."
Kamal turned toward him questioningly. The man told him quickly
and urgently, "Be a good boy and go downstairs and play."
The boy was crushed. Disheartened, he retreated with heavy feet.
It hurt him to be rewarded so shabbily for the torment of waiting he
had endured all day. Just as he was about to leave, a strange sound
coming from the closed room made his ears ring. It began high, shrill,
and piercing and then became husky and disjointed, even raucous,
before ending as a long, harsh rattle. It died away just long enough
for the person to breathe. Afterward there was a deep moan of complaint.
At first Kamal did not recognize the voice, but despite its
shrillness, huskiness, and rattling, there was something distinctive
about its tortured sound that revealed the person's identity. It was
the voice of his sister Aisha, without any doubt, or of Aisha exhausted
and fading away. When the deep, complaining moan was repeated,
he knew he was right. He trembled all over. He imagined her writhing
in pain. That reminded him of the cat. He glanced toward Khalil
and found him contracting and relaxing his fists as he murmured, "O
Gracious Lord."
Kamal imagined that Aisha's body was contracting and relaxing
like her husband's hands. He lost control of himself and raced off,
Unable to say anything because of his sobs. When he reached the
door of the women's quarters he heard footsteps behind him. He
looked up and saw the servant Suwaydan hurrying down. She passed
ithout paying any attention to him. Stopping at the door, she called
er master Ibrahim When the man hastened to her, she told him,
"Praise to God, master." She added nothing further and did not wait
Naguib Mahfou
to hear his reply. She turned on her heels and rushed back up the
steps without any delay.
Ibrahim went to the reception chamber with a beaming face. Kanaal
stayed where he was, alone, not knowing what to do. In less than a
minute Ibrahim returned, followed by al-Sayyid Abroad, Yasin, and
Fahmy in that order. The boy stepped aside to let them pass and then
trailed after them with a pounding heart.
Khalil received them at the door of the apartment. Kamal heard his
father say, "Praise to God for good health."
Khalil muttered despondently, "Praise to God in any ease."
With concern, al-Sayyid Abroad asked him, "What's the matter?"
In a low voice Khalil said, "I'm going to call the doctor."
AI-Sayyid Ahmad asked anxiously, "For the baby?"
He replied as he shook his head no, "Aisha!... She's not in good
shape. I'll get the doctor at once."
He departed, leaving behind him undisguised dejection and anxiety.
Ibrahim Shawkat invited them into the parlor. They went there silently.
Widow Shawkat arrived soon and greeted them. She smiled
to reassure them. When she sat down she said, "The poor dear suffered
so long that her strength gave out. It's just a temporary condition
and will soon pass. I'm sure of what I say, but my son seems to be unusually fearful today. In any case, there's no harm in having
the doctor come." Then she commented in a low voice to herself,
"The real doctor is our Lord. He's the true physician."
Though surrounded by his sons, al-Sayyid Ahmad was unable to
maintain his customary composure. With evident anxiety he asked,
"What's the matter with her?... Can't I see her?"
The woman smiled and said, "You'll see her shortly, when she's feeling better. It's my crazy son's fault that he alarmed you unnecessarily."
Within his broad, powerful chest that seemed so resolute, dignified,
and awe-inspiring was a grievously tormented heart. Inside those
grave, despondent eyes was a frozen tear. "What's happened to my
little girl? The doctor! Why is the old lady keeping me from seeing
her? A tender smile or an affectionate word from me, from me in
particular, would certainly lessen her pains. Marriage, husband,
pain.... She never tasted the bitterness of pain in my house. The
beautiful, darling little girl mercy, God Life's lost its flavor. The
m
I'
taste is destroyed by the least harm threatening them. Fah Y.'" r
'
rstood the meaning o
see he s dejected and in oain
Has he unde
-, "
"""
lad
pain? How could he know what a mother's heart feels? The old Y
PALACE WALK
47Y
clm and confident of what she says. Her son upset us for no reason
at all. God, hear our prayer. You know the state I'm in. You'll we her the way You saved me from the English. My heart can't he this torment. God is merciful. He's capable of saving my children
from every evil. Otherwise, life would have no taste. What enjoyment
would I get from gaiety, music, and entertainment if there was
a sharp thorn planted in my side? My heart prays for their deliverance,
because it's a father's heart. It can't enjoy amusements unless
it's free from worry. Will I go to the party tonight with a heart at
ease? When I laugh, I like it to resound from the depths of my sincere
heart. An anxious heart is like a string that's out of tune. Fahmy's
enough for me to worry about. He pesters me like a toothache. How
hateful pain is! A world without pain... nothing is too much for
God. A world without pain, even if only for a brief time.., a world
in which my eye's delighted by my children. Then I would laugh,
sing, and play. Most Merciful of the merciful Have mercy on
Aisha, O God."
Khalil returned with the doctor after an absence of three-quarters
of an hour. They entered the door at once, closing it behind them.
When al-Sayyid Ahmad learned they had arrived, he rose and went
to the door of the parlor. He stood at the threshold for a little while,
looking at the closed door. Then he went back to his place and sat
down.
Widow Shawkat said, "We'll see how right I am once the doctor
speaks to us."
Al-Sayyid Ahmad raised his head heavenward and murmured,
"Pardon comes from Him."
He would soon know the truth and escape from the fog of doubt,
regardless of the outcome. His heart pounded rapidly. Let him be
patient. It would not be long. His faith in God was deep, profound,
and not easily shaken. He should surrender the affair to Him. No
matter how long the doctor stayed inside, he would eventually come
out. Then he would ask what it was all about. A doctor?... He had
not thought about that before A doctor at a delivery, face to face
with her womb. Was not that so? But he was a doctor What
Could be done? "The important thing is for our Lord to take her by
the hand. We ask him for deliverance."
In addition to being worried, al-Sayyid Ahmad felt embarrassed
,d annoyed. The examination lasted about twenty minutes. Then
ne door opened. He rose and went at once to the sitting room, fol
lOWed
by the boys. They gathered around the doctor, who knew al
4 76
Naguib Mahfou
Sayyid Ahmad. Shaking his hand, he said with a smile, "She's in good
health." He continued more seriously: "They brought me for the
mother, but I found the one really in need of my care was the baby
girl."
AI-Sayyid Ahmad sighed with relief, feeling better for the st time
in about an hour. With a gracious smile brightening his face, he
asked, "Can I be sure of what you say, then?"
Pretending to be astonished, the doctor said, "Yes, but aren't you
concerned about your granddaughter?"
Smiling, he replied, "I'm not familiar yet with the duties of a
grandfather."
Khalil asked, "Isn't there any hope she'll live?"
Knitting his brows, the doctor answered, "Lives are in God's
hands. I found that her heart's weak. It's likely she'll die before morning.
If she makes it safely through the night, she'll be out of immediate
danger, but I think she won't live long. In my judgment, she
won't live past her twenties. But who knows? Only God controls our
lives."
When the doctor had gone off about his business, Khalil turned
toward his mother with a sad smile. He told her, "I was intending to
name her Na'ima, after you."
The woman gestured with her hand to scold him and observed,
"The doctor himself said, 'Lives are in God's hands.' Are you going
to have less faith than the doctor? Name her Na'imao You must name
her Na'ima in my honor. God willing, her life will be as long as her
grandmother's."
AI-Sayyid Ahmad was thinking to himself, "The fool called a kz
tor to look at his wife for no reason, no reason at all. What an Not
he is!" Unable to contain his fury, although he disguised it in a gentle
tone, he said, "It's true that fear makes men do foolish things, but
shouldn't you have thought a little before rushing off to bring an
outsider to take such a searching look at your wife?"
Khalil did not respond. He glanced at the people around him ad
remarked earnestly, "Aisha must not know what the doctor said."
,What's happening in the street?" al-Sayyid Ahmad wondered as he
rose hastily from his desk. He went to the door, followed by Jamil
al.Hamzawi and some of their customers. AI-Nahhasin was not a
quiet street, quite the contrary. Its strident noise did not abate from
one dawn until shortly before the next. There were the loud cries of
vendors, haggling of shoppers, pleas of crazed beggars, and wisecracks
of passersby. People conversed as though delivering a public
oration. Even the most personal discussions ricocheted everywhere,
flying up to the minarets. To this general commotion the Suarbs omnibus
added its clanking and the donkey carts their clatter. In no sense
was it a quiet street, but a sudden clamor had arisen, at first heard in
the distance like the roar of waves, then growing stronger and more
raucous until it sounded like a howling wind. It enveloped the whole
district, near and far. Even on this noisy street it was out of the
ordinary and exceptional.
A1-Sayyid Ahmad thought a demonstration had broken out, as anyone
who had experienced those days would have, but cries of joy
were audible in the uproar. Wondering what it was, he went to the
door where he bumped into the shaykh, or supervisor, of the district,
who had rushed up. He was crying out with a jubilant face, "Have
you heard the news?"
Even before he heard any more, the proprietor's eyes began to
glow optimistically. "No," he said. "What's it all about?"
The man replied enthusiastically, "Sa'd Pasha has been freed."
AI-Sayyid Ahmad could not restrain himself from yelling,
"Really?"
The shaykh affirmed, "Allenby broadcast a bulletin with this good
news just now."
I The next moment the two men were hugging each other. AI
ayyid Abroad was deeply moved. His eyes filled with tears. Laugh
ng to disguise his emotions, he said, "He's known for broadcasting
threats, not good news. What's made him change, that old son of a
gun?"
The shaykh of the district replied, "Glory to the one who never
Naguib Mafou
changes." He shook hands with the proprietor and then left the store
shouting, "God is most great.////ahu akbar. Victory to the Muslims.,,
AI-Sayyid Ahmad stood at the door of the shop, looking up and
down the street with a heart that had recaptured the delight and
innocence of childhood. The effect of the news about Sa'd was evident
everywhere. The entries of the shops were jammed with their
owners and customers, who were congratulating each other. The
windows of the houses were crowded with children, and ululating
trills of joy could be heard from the women at the peepholes of the
window grilles. Impromptu demonstrations took place between al
Nahhasin, the Goldsmiths Bazaar, and Bayt al-Qadi, with people yelling
their hearts out for Sa'd, Sa'd, Sa'd, and then Sa'd. The muezzins
went up to the balconies of their minarets to give thanks,, pray, and
shout. There were" tens of donkey carts with hundreds of women,
fully covered in wraps, dancing and singing patriotic songs. All he
could see were people, or, more precisely, people shouting. The earth
had disappeared and the walls were concealed by them. Shouts for
Sa'd were heard everywhere. The air seemed to have turned into a
tremendous phonograph record, spinning incessantly on a turntable,
repeating his name. News bounced along the mass of heads that the
English were striking their camps, which had been set up at the street
corners, in preparation for redeployment of the soldiers to al-Abbasiya.
The enthusiasm increased and delirium reached a fever pitch.
AI-Sayyid Ahmad had never seen such a sight before. He looked
every which way with sparkling eyes and a bounding heart. Under
his breath, he sang along with the women dancers, "O Husayn... a
burden has been lifted."
Then Jamil al-Hamzawi put his head close to the proprietor's ear
to say, "The shops are distributing cold drinks and putting up flags."
AI-Sayyid Ahmad told him enthusiastically, "Do what the others
are doing and more. Put your whole heart into it." Then with a
trembling voice he added, "Hang Sa'd's picture under the calligraphy
of'In the Name of God.'"
Jamil al-Hamzawi looked reluctant and cautioned him, "In that
place it can be seen from outside. Wouldn't it be better for us to bide
our time until things return to normal?"
bloodshed
The proprietor replied scornfully, "The era of fear and
has passed, never to return. Don't you see that demonstrations are
oin on under the eyes of the English, who aren't making ay
g g
. oo.
tern t to interfere with them Han uo the picture and trust in, ¢-'d
"The days of fear and bloodshed have vamshed. Isn t tha
PALACE WALK
is free and at liberty. He's probably on his way now to Europe. Only
a step or a word stands between us and independence. These are
demonstrations with trills of joy, not bullets. Those of us who are
still alive are happy people, having passed safely through the fires.
6od's mercy on the martyrs Fahmy? He's escaped from a much
greater danger than he ever imagined. He's escaped, praise and
thanks to God. Yes, Fahmy has escaped. What are you waiting for?
pray to God your Lord."
When the family gathered that evening, their hoarse voices revealed
that they had spent the day shouting. It was a happy evening.
Joy was evident in their eyes, lips, gestures, and words. Even Amina's
heart imbibed some of the overflowing happiness. She realized that
Sa'd's release brought good news of a return to peace and joy.
"From the balcony I saw something no one has ever seen before,"
she commented. "Has Judgment Day come with the scales to weigh
our sins? Were those women crazy? The echo of their singing still
rings in my ears: 'O Husayn... a burden has been lifted.'"
Laughingly messing up Kamal's hair, Yasin said, "It was a word
of farewell to speed the departing English on their way, just as you
see off an unwelcome guest by breaking a jug after him."
Kamal looked at his brother without saying anything. Then Amina
had another question: "Is God finally pleased with us?"
Yasin replied, "No doubt about it." Then he asked Fahmy, "What
do you think?"
Fahmy, who seemed as happy as a child, said, "The English
wouldn't have freed Sa'd if they weren't agreeing to our demands.
He'll travel to Europe and then return with independence. This is
what everyone says. No matter what else happens, April 7, 1919, will
remain the date marking the success of the revolution."
Yasin exclaimed, "What a day! Government employees participated
openly in the demonstrations. I didn't think I was pable of
walking that distance or yelling for so long."
Fahmy laughed. He said, "I wish I could have seen you shouting
Zealously. Yasin takes part in a demonstration. He gets excited and
yells. What a rare spectacle!"
It truly was an amazing day. Yasin had been swept along by its
ise
Welling current and carried by its strong waves like a tiny, weights
leaf, fluttering everywhere. He could scarcely believe that he had
n able to regain control of himself and had retreated to a quiet
ObServation tower where, through its glass, he had calmly watched
What was happening, without any emotional involvement. In the light
4go
Naguib Mahfou
of Fahmy's observation, he began to recall the state he had been in
while he was in the demonstration. He remarked with astonishment,
"A man forgets himself in the strangest way when he's with so many
people. He almost seems to become a new person."
Fahmy asked him with interest, "Did you really feel enthusiastic?,,
"I shouted for Sa'd so much my throat became sore. I had tears in
my eyes once or twice."
"How did you get into the demonstration?"
"We heard the news that Sa'd had been released when we were at
school. I was really ecstatic. Were you expecting that? Then the
teachers suggested joining the large demonstration outside. I didn't
feel like it and thought I'd slip off home but was forced to walk with
them until I could get an opportunity to escape. Then I found myself
in a swirling sea of people. There was an electric atmosphere of
enthusiasm. Before I knew it, I forgot myself and merged with the
stream. I was as zealous and optimistic as a person can be. Please
believe me."
Fahmy shook his head and murmured, "Amazing.... "
Yasin laughed out loud and asked, "Did you think I had lost my
sense of patriotism? The thing is, I don't like noise and violence. I
don't have any problem reconciling love of country and love of
peace."
"What if that reconciliation is shattered?"
Yasin smiled and answered without any hesitation, "I put love of
peace first. I come first.... Is it impossible for my country to be happy
unless it consumes my life? God's deliverance! I'm not taking any
chances with my life, but I'll love my country so long as I'm alive."
"That's very wise," Amina commented. Then, looking at Fahmy,
she asked, "Does my master think otherwise?"
Fahmy replied calmly, "Of course not. It's very wise, as you
said.... "
Kamal was not happy to be left out of the conversation, especially
since he was convinced that he had played a vital role that day. He
volunteered, "We went on strike too, but the headmaster told us we
were still children and would be trampled underfoot if we left school.
He ave us ermission to demonstrate in the school courtyard. So
we agsemble there and chanted for a long time, 'Long live Sa'd.'"
He repeated the chant in a loud voice. "After that we didn't go back
to the classes, because the teachers had left the school to join the
demonstrators outside."
!:2
PALACE WALK 48I
yasin threw the boy a sarcastic look and remarked, "But your
friends have gone....
"To hell," Kamal said, in spite of himself. The comment did not
express his true feelings,at all, but he felt that circumstances required
it and, faced with Yasin s sarcasm, he wished to mask his defeat. In
his heart he felt bewildered and slandered. He could not forget how,
on his return from school, he had stood in the deserted campsite,
casting his eyes in every direction in painful silence as tears welled
up in his eyes. It would be a long time before he forgot tea on the
sidewalk by the cistern, the admiration his singing had garnered, his
affectionate treatment by the soldiers and especially by Julian, and
the friendship that linked him to those outstanding gentlemen whom
he believed to be superior to the rest of mankind.
Amina said, "Sa'd Pasha's a lucky man. The whole world is chanting
his name. Not even 'Our Effendi' Abbas II was treated like that.
Sa'd's no doubt a Believer, because God grants real victories only to
Believers. Sa'd's been victorious over the English, who even defeated
the zeppelin. What greater victory can you ask for? The man was
born auspiciously on the Night of Destiny in Ramadan, which commemorates
the Qur'an's descent."
"Do you love him?" Fahmy asked with a smile.
"I love him, since you do."
Fahmy spread his hands out and raised his eyebrows disapprovingly.
"That doesn't mean anything," he said.
She sighed somewhat uneasily and explained, "Whenever I got
some sad news, tearing my heart to pieces-with sorrow, I would ask
myself, 'Do you suppose this would have happened if Sa'd had not
started his rebellion?' But a man loved by everyone must also be
loved by God." Sighing audibly, she continued: "I grieve for those
who have perished. How many mothers are weeping sorely now?
How many a mother finds that today's joy only adds another sorrow
to her regrets?"
Fahmy winked at Yasin and told her, "A really patriotic mother
Would trill with joy at her son's martyrdom."
She put her fingers in her ears and shouted, "May God be my
Witness to what the young master has said.... A mother trills with
joy when her son is martyred? Where? On this earth? Not here or
even underground where the devils reside."
k..Fahmy laughed loudly. He thought for a while. Then with twin- ing eyes he said, "Mama... I'm going to tell you a terrible secret
Nagui Matfou
that can be revealed now. I participated in the demonstrations and
met death face to face."
She looked at him gravely and incredulously. With a bewildered
smile she said, "You?.... Impossible. You're part of my flesh and
blood. Your heart comes from mine. You're not like the oth,
Smiling at her, he declared, "I swear to you by God Almi,h['-'-',"
it's true."
.v mat
Her smile disappeared and her eyes grew wide with consternation.
She looked back and forth between him and Yasin, who was also
staring inquisitively at Fahmy. After swallowing, she mumbled, "O
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