Ahmad waved his hand as if angered and asked loudly, "Where do you get the right to judge a man'sheart?"
"Your acts betray your secret thoughts". Then, hiding a smile, he added, "Enemy of God!"
Without abandoning his assured composure, Ibrahim Shawkat said, "Don't make false accusations against your brother."
Looking at Ahmad but addressing Abd al-Muni'm, Khadija said, "Don't deprive your brother of the dearest thing a person can have. How could he be anything but a Believer? If only his mother's relatives wore turbans, they would be recognized as religious scholars. His maternal great-grandfather had a career in religion. When I was growing up everyone around me prayed devoutly and served God, as if we were living in a mosque."
Ahmad said sarcastically, "Like Uncle Yasin!"
A laugh escaped from Ibrahim Shawkat. Pretending to be annoyed, Khadija retorted, "Speak respectfully about your uncle. What's wrong with him? His heart is filled with belief, and our Lord guides him. Look at your grandfather and grandmother."
"And Uncle Kamal?"
"Your uncle Kamal is watched over by al-Husayn. You don't know anything."
"Some people don't know anything…."
Abd al-Muni'm asked defiantly, "Even if everyone else neglected their religion, would that be any excuse for you?"
Ahmad replied calmly, "In any case, you shouldn't worry about it. You won't ever be held responsible for my sins."
Then Ibrahim Shawkat said, "Stop your quarreling. I wish you could be like your cousin Ridwan."
Khadija stared at him disapprovingly. It was more than she could bear that anyone would prefer Ridwan to her sons. To explain himself, Ibrahim said, "That young man has contacts with top politicians. He's bright and seems guaranteed a glorious future."
Khadija said furiously, "I don't agree with you. Ridwan's an unlucky boy, like anyone else who has been deprived of his mother's care. The fact is that 'Mrs.' Zanuba thinks nothing of him. I'm not deceived by her good treatment of him. It's simply a political stratagem like those of the English. For this reason the poor boy has no real home. He spends most of his time away from the apartment. And his contacts with important men are meaningless. He's a student in the same year as Abd al-Muni'm. What's the point of this weighty remark? You don't know how to pick your examples."
Ibrahim gave her a look, as if to say, "It's impossible for you ever to agree with me". Then he continued with his explanation: "Things aren't the same for young people today. Politics has changed everything. Each important figure surrounds himself with young proteges. An ambitious youth wishing to make his way in the world must find a patron he can rely on. Your father's status is based on his close ties to important men."
Khadija said haughtily, "My father is sought out by people eager to get to know him. He doesn't curry favor with people. As for politics, it doesn't concern my boys. If they had known their uncle who sacrificed his life for the nation, they would learn for themselves what I mean. It's 'Long live so-and-so' or 'Down with someone else,' while people's sons are perishing. If Fahmy had lived, he would be one of the greatest judges today."
Abd al-Muni'm said, "Everyone has to find his own way. We won't imitate anyone. If we wanted to be like Ridwan, we could be."
Khadija said, "That's right!"
Ibrahim told Abd al-Muni'm, "You're just like your mother … no difference at all between you."
There was a knock on the door and the servant came to announce the tenant from the first floor. As she started to rise, Khadija said, "I wonder what she wants… If she wishes to put off paying her rent, it will take all the policemen from the Gamaliya station to separate us."
126
Themuski was very congested. Already teeming with more than its normal pedestrian traffic, it was being flooded by currents of human beings from al-Ataba. The April sun cast fiery rays from a cloudless sky, and Abd al-Muni'm and Ahmad were sweating profusely as they made their way through the throngs with more than a little effort.
Taking his brother's arm, Ahmad said, "Tell me what you feel."
Abd al-Muni'm thought a little and then replied, "I don't know. Death is always terrifying, especially a king's death. The funeral procession was more crowded than any I'd seen before. Since I didn't witness Sa'd Zaghlul's funeral, I can't compare the two. But it seems to me that most of the onlookers were mourning. Some of the women were weeping. We Egyptians are an emotional people."
"But I'm asking about your own feelings."
Abd al-Muni'm thought again while trying to keep from bumping into people. Finally he said, "I didn't love him. None of us did. So I wasn't sad. Yet I wasn't happy either. I followed the bier without feeling anything one way or the other about the man, but the thought of such a mighty person in a coffin affected me. A sight like that was bound to move me. God's sovereignty is universal. He is alive and eternal. I wish people would realize that. If the king had died before the political situation changed, great multitudes would have rejoiced. And you what are your feelings?"
Smiling, Ahmad said, "I have no love for tyrants, no matter what the political situation."
"That's excellent. But what about the sight of death?"
"I don't care for sick romanticism."
Abd al-Muni'm asked angrily, "Then were you pleased?"
"I hope to live long enough to see the world cleansed of all tyrants, no matter what the title or description."
They were silent for a time, fatigue having gotten the best of them. Then Ahmad asked, "What happens next?"
With the confident tone for which he was known, Abd al-Muni'm answered, "Faruq is just a boy. He's not as crafty or as vindictive as his father. If all goes well, with successful negotiations and a return of the Wafd to power, things will calm down and the era of c onspiracies will vanish. It seems that the future will be good."
"And the English?"
"If the negotiations are successful, they will become our friends and, consequently, the alliance between the palace and the English against the Egyptian people will be terminated. Then the king will be forced to respect the constitution."
"The Wafd Party is better than the other ones."
"No doubt… but it hasn't governed long enough to demonstrate its abilities fully. Experience will soon reveal its true potential. I agree it's better than the others, but our ambitions don't stop there."
"Of course not! I believe that rule by the Wafd Party is a good starting point for much greater developments. That's all there is to it. But will we really reach an agreement with the English?"
"If there isn't an agreement, then we'll return to a situation like that under Sidqy. Our nation has an inexhaustible supply of traitors. Their main task is always to discipline the Wafdists whenever we say no to the English. They are certainly watching for another opportunity, even if they're aligned with the nationalists at present. Sidqy, Muhammad Mahmud, and men like them are just waiting. That's the tragedy."
On reaching New Street they suddenly found themselves facing their grandfather, Ahmad Abd al-Jawad, who washeading toward the Goldsmiths Bazaar. They went over and greeted him respectfully.
He smiled and asked, "From where, to where?"
Abd al-Muni'm answered, "We were watching the funeral of King Fuad."
The smile still on his lips, the man said, "Thank you for your thoughtful condolences."
After shaking hands, they went their separate ways. Ahmad watched for a moment as his grandfather walked off. Then he said, "Our grandfather's charming and elegant. His cologne has a pleasant fragrance."
"Mother recounts amazing tales about his tyranny."
"I don't think he's a tyrant. That's incredible."
Abd al-Muni'm laughed and said, "Even King Fuad himself by the end of his days seemed pleasant and charming". They both laughed and proceeded on to Ahmad Abduh's coffeehouse.