The Republic of False Truths

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The Republic of False Truths Page 5

by Alaa Al Aswany


  The Egyptians fell in love with Sheikh Shamel when he appeared for the first time on his weekly show on the Godliness Channel. As his popularity grew, he withdrew from the latter and established the Right Path Channel, which opened before him the way to great good fortune. Sheikh Shamel speaks constantly (as the Koran commands us to do) of the many blessings God has given him: he owns three recent-model black stretch limousines and a fourth sports car that he himself drives on family outings. All of them are Mercedes, the make he prefers because of its solid build and elegance. It is also the case that the director of the Mercedes agency in Egypt is a disciple of his and always gives him special deals. Another of God’s blessings on Sheikh Shamel is that he lives in a large villa in 6th of October City, where three wives, each with her children, live in the top three floors, while the sheikh reserves the fourth for his newest, who is always a virgin whom he enjoys in full compliance with holy law and then dismisses with a generous sum, granting her her full legal rights including maintenance, the balance of the bride price, and all the rest. He is said to have taken the virginity of twenty-three young girls, all in compliance with holy law. There is nothing shameful or sinful about this because he has never broken God’s canons, and he always gives the following advice to his male disciples: “My brothers, I advise you, if your means and health permit, take more than one wife, for to do so is to guard yourself against sin and to provide a veil of godly protection to the daughters of the Muslims!”

  The sheikh’s love of intercourse brings no shame on him as he never exposes his virile member in ways forbidden by religion and is still (he is now over fifty) attractive to women. His body is massive, with broad shoulders. His face is fair-complexioned and handsome, his eyes large, honey-coloured, and lined with kohl, in imitation of the practice of the Prophet, God bless him and give him peace. He embodies the authentic elegance of the Righteous Forefathers—so different from that of the jeans and trousers brought to us from the West—and he wears a floor-length shift of the finest materials (except silk, which is forbidden by religion), covered with a mantle that is made specially for him in Marrakesh. He has dozens of pairs of chic Italian shoes, the cost of any one of which may reach astronomical figures. The white cloth with which he covers his head may be considered the last word in the sentence of his sartorial elegance. Sheikh Shamel never speaks of his attractiveness to women, but he is aware of it and keeps it resolutely in check, lest it should lead (God forbid!) to sin. During the programme he presents, a female viewer will often phone in and shriek in torrid tones, “I love you in God, Sheikh Shamel! I love you in God!” On such occasions, the sheikh lets his heart be his guide. If he feels that what the caller has in mind is love in the virtuous sense, his features relax into a sweet smile and he says, “May God fill you with grace and surround you with blessings, my dear sister in Islam.” If, however, he senses a dubious tremulousness in her voice, indicative (God forbid!) of lust, his beautiful face darkens immediately with something akin to anger, and he says, as he resolutely hangs up, “I pray to God, respected sister, that He may bring us together in blessing on the Day of Resurrection, should He so will.” Continence, uprightness, and godliness are innate traits of Sheikh Shamel’s personality.

  The disciples now joyfully followed him to where he would give his lesson next to the swimming pool. Sheikh Shamel gives the lesson every first Saturday of the month at General Alwany’s mansion. Men sit to the right, women to the left, while the sheikh sits on a broad raised seat made of oak inlaid with mother-of-pearl on which the Most Beautiful Names of God have been carved in delicate letters of great beauty. The seat is a genuine work of art that Hagga Tahany had made specially for the sheikh so that he could sit cross-legged and be comfortable while giving his lesson.

  Hagga Tahany, with her corpulent body and ample black robe, appeared enormous. On her chest, she had hung a heavy chain of white gold from which the word “Allah,” formed of flawless diamonds, dangled. She bowed and whispered a few words to the sheikh, then handed him a small piece of paper which he thrust into the pocket of his mantle with a smile, seeming to thank her. Throughout the lesson, Indonesian maids, their hair covered, would circulate with hot and cold drinks. Afterwards, there would be a large banquet for which superb food had been brought in by the Wholesome Bites company, owned by Hagga Tahany. Sheikh Shamel began with whispered prayers before the microphone, then smiled and said “Peace be upon you!”

  Those present returned the greeting in a variety of excited voices. Sheikh Shamel began his talk with the words “Praise to God, Mighty and Sublime, for His blessings and His favours, and blessings and peace upon the Chosen One, Lord of All Creation!”

  Then he said, “My brothers and sisters in Islam, I shall talk today about the covering of the hair, which is a duty imposed on every Muslim woman who has reached the age of menstruation, according to the consensus of legal scholars and orthodox Muslims. Covering of the hair is known to be a necessary part of religion that needs neither explanation nor debate. What brings me to speak of it is the rabid attack to which God’s religion is being subjected by the secularists, those agents of Zionism and the Crusader West. Through God’s grace, above all, and then through the grace of our righteous, revered sheikhs, the practice of covering the hair has spread and now predominates among the women of the Muslims, delivering the secularists a severe blow that left them first staggering, then dancing the dance of death. These secularists, with their plots against our Islamic nation, cannot bear to see a Muslim woman adorned with modesty and seemliness. We Muslims are subject to a general conspiracy that aims to distance us from our religion. Be on your guard, then, my brothers and sisters, and beware the cross-worshipping Christians and ape- and pig-descended Jews, and their agents the secularists, who bear Islamic names and live among us and stab us in the back. These secularists, despite the multiplicity of their sects and schools—liberals, communists, socialists—are all, without exception, devoid of honour, corrupt by nature, and worship their desires like beasts. Indeed, I swear there are beasts that show greater modesty than these brazen people with their defence of perversion and group sex (we take refuge with God!). To these acquiescent cuckolds we say, ‘Why do you hate the covering of the hair?’ Healthy instinct imposed the covering of women’s hair before it became a divine command. Observe God’s creations about us, if you would indeed acquire wisdom! Is not the planet itself wrapped in a protective layer without which all of life would be destroyed? Is not fruit preserved in a protective layer that preserves its freshness? Is not the limb-severing sword kept safe inside a scabbard? Is it not the peel of the apple that preserves it from corruption? Is it not the peel of the banana that preserves it from turning black and rotten? Do we not wrap books and copybooks in jackets to preserve them from dirt? What then when it comes to the women of the Muslims? The secularists want to interfere with the laws of nature and call our women to unveiling and indecency. There is no god but God! As the Koran says, ‘How then can you be so deluded as to turn from the truth?’ I ask you, dear sister in Islam, if you go to buy halvah, and you find a piece that is exposed, for hands to tear at and flies to settle on, and another piece of clean halvah well wrapped in a thick, elegant wrapping, which would you buy? Naturally, you would prefer the clean, wrapped halvah over the exposed, dirty halvah. God is great! God is great! You, my dear Muslim sister, are the piece of halvah and God, great and glorious, wishes to preserve you from uncleanness and keep intact your dignity, modesty, and purity. Would you refuse this generous gift from the Lord of the Universe, Great and Glorious? Would you meet God’s grace with rejection and recalcitrance?”

  Cries of “God is great!” rose from the listeners. Sheikh Shamel bowed his head in silence for a moment, then resumed, saying, “How many of our girls have told me, ‘I’m not convinced I have to cover my hair. Convince me first, and then I’ll cover my hair.’ Glory be! I put one question to such girls: ‘Are you a Muslim?’ My respected young daughter w
ill reply, ‘Yes, I am a Muslim. I bear witness that there is no god but God and that Muhammad is the messenger of God.’ Then I ask her, ‘Do you love God and His messenger?’ and the girl will reply, ‘Of course I love them.’ And I say to her, ‘If you love God and His messenger, obey the command of God and His messenger! You are commanded to cover your hair. You have no choice but to obey. If you are living in a country, do you not obey its laws, which have been set by mortals such as yourself? My beloved young daughter, if you are working in a company, do you not obey your superior’s orders? How, then, can you disobey the commands of God, Great and Glorious? Is the Lord, Great and Glorious, of less account in your eyes than a superior in a company? Alas for mortal men! Is it that the hearts of some Muslims are carved from rock that they feel not and seek not the joys of obedience? Alas for those Muslims who quiver in fear at mere mortals like themselves, but, when God commands them to do something, argue and look for proof where none is to be found! This is a command from God, who created us and feeds us and showers us with blessings beyond counting! Which would you rather: obey God, Mighty and Sublime, or place yourselves above His commands and do harm to yourselves?’ ”

  The listeners murmured audibly, asking God for forgiveness. It was clear that they were moved. Even the celebrated presenter Nourhan burst into tears, causing the lady sitting next to her to take her in her arms to calm her down. The sheikh resumed in tones trembling with emotion:

  “Brothers and sisters in Islam, say after me the following prayer and memorise it, for, by Him who holds my soul in His hand, I teach it to you only out of desire for the approval of God, Great and Glorious: O God, make the women of the Muslims, and their daughters, righteous, godly, submissive, and penitent, and make decent clothing and the covering of the hair appealing to them, and implant in them modesty and continence! O God, guard them from the curses of the corrupt and the claims of those who would lead them astray, through Your mercy, O most merciful of the merciful!”

  The listeners repeated “Amen” after him in voices that rang through the place. Suddenly, Sheikh Shamel cast his gaze on those around him, his features full of exultation. “O Lord! O Lord! Brothers and sisters, be joyful! I swear I see angels surrounding us on all sides, for in this gathering of ours we mention God’s name and worship Him, as God, mighty and sublime, has commanded us!”

  “God is great!,” “God grant you His blessings, Master!” were the repeated, excited cries of those present. The sheikh fell silent, then reached into the pocket of his mantle and took out a piece of paper. “Brothers and sisters in Islam,” he said, “I announce to you the good news that our daughter Marwa El Giyushi has bidden goodbye to sin forever, God willing. God has conferred upon her the blessing of obedience and she has decided to adopt the hair covering required by religious law. Come here, Marwa!”

  A young woman in her twenties wearing elegant, flowing garments emerged from the group. She seemed embarrassed and smiled shyly. Hagga Tahany took her by the hand and stood her next to Sheikh Shamel, whose face lit up as he exclaimed, “Bravo! Come here, Marwa.”

  Marwa moved closer to him and the sheikh gave her the microphone. When she appeared too embarrassed to speak, Hagga Tahany took the microphone and held it in front of her mouth. The sheikh began chanting in a sing-song voice the following prayer:

  O God, You are my lord other than whom there is none other.

  You created me and I am your handmaiden.

  I seek refuge with You from the evil that I have done.

  O God, I seek Your forgiveness from every sin that creates grief and leaves repentance in its wake.

  O God, I accept Your favour in overlooking my sins and Your bounty in overlooking my unbelief.

  O God, I have wronged my soul, so forgive me and accept me as Your obedient slave.

  The young woman wept during the prayer, and Hagga Tahany hugged her and then placed the hair covering over her head and knotted it below her chin. She gazed at her for a moment and then kissed her on her cheek. Trills of celebration rang out, loud exclamations of “God is great!” were heard, and cries of joy echoed everywhere:

  “Well done!”

  “Congratulations, Marwa!”

  “Marwa, you look gorgeous!”

  * * *

  As General Alwany approached the house, he noticed the cars in front of the gate. He knew that today was Sheikh Shamel’s seminar but didn’t want to see the guests, so he ordered his driver to drive around to the back of the house and went in through the back entrance. There, he rode the lift to the second floor, made his way to Danya’s room, and rapped with his fingers on the door. Danya quickly appeared, on her face a radiant smile that roused in him a mixture of tenderness and gloom. She was wearing baggy trousers and a blue satin jacket and had removed her hair scarf, leaving her smooth black hair to hang down around her beautiful face. She reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek, then looked at her watch, pursed her lips playfully, and said, “Honourable General, you have come home from work early. May I know the reason?”

  General Alwany was briefly confused, then cleared his throat and said in a serious tone of voice, “I want to talk to you about something important.” Her smile broadened and she said as she made way for him to enter, “We are Your Excellency’s to command, sir!”

  He decided not to fall in with her joking mood. He would not let her smile affect him. He had to confront her now. Danya’s large room was not unlike a luxury hotel suite, being divided into a bedroom, a study, and a bathroom. All the furniture and decorations were imported from Italy and all in either white or green, giving a restful impression of cheerfulness and expansiveness. General Alwany sat on the sofa, looked at Danya, and said, sounding rather like an interrogator, “Why didn’t you attend Sheikh Shamel’s lesson?”

  “He always says the same thing.”

  “Sheikh Shamel is a leading Islamic scholar. We have to show him respect.”

  “I do respect him, but I disagree with him.”

  “May I know why?”

  “Sheikh Shamel has shrunk Islam to covering the hair, praying, and fasting. He never talks about people’s real problems.”

  “It is the task of a man of religion to teach people the rules of religion.”

  “When a man of religion sees injustice taking place before his eyes and says nothing, he becomes an accomplice to it.”

  General Alwany looked at her angrily and said, “You’re getting some strange ideas.”

  “You have always encouraged me to express my ideas frankly.”

  “This is more important than ideas. Your behaviour itself has become unacceptable.”

  “What have I done?”

  “Your Facebook page contains videos damaging to the reputation of the police.”

  “Are you spying on me, Father?”

  He said nothing, and she looked at him reproachfully and said, “I would rather you ask me and I tell you than you spy on me. You’ve always trusted me.”

  “Of course I trust you, Danya, but this is my job. It is my duty to defend our country. We keep track of people who publish videos that hurt the reputation of the police and unfortunately you came up. Frankly, it was a shock to me.”

  “The videos show officers torturing innocent people, and putting them on Facebook may help to bring them to trial.”

  “Tens of thousands of police officers work day and night, giving their lives to protect Egypt. It’s not acceptable to sully their reputation because an officer or two, or even a dozen, have made mistakes.”

  “Torture isn’t a mistake. It’s a crime. Plus, telling the truth never hurt anyone. What hurts the police is the presence of criminal officers who torture people and escape punishment.”

  “Fine words!” the general said, sarcastically.

  She replied, fervently, “The Prophet, may God bless him and grant him peace, said, ‘Wish for you
r brother what you wish for yourself!’ I don’t think anyone wants his son or his brother to be tortured in a police station.”

  “Police officers only beat up criminals.”

  “Even if they’re criminals, they don’t have the right to beat them up.”

  “So what are we supposed to do? Give them chocolates?”

  “No. They’re supposed to face a court of law.”

  “Our law is taken straight from French law and isn’t suited to our country, and if we were to apply it in full, not a single criminal would confess.”

  “Ten criminals escaping punishment is better than a single innocent person being treated unjustly.”

  “That’s theoretical and won’t work in our country.”

  “Egypt, like any other country in the world, must be ruled with justice.”

 

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