There were also weekly and monthly magazines as well as the newspapers and magazines published in the East and West. All this means, to be honest with myself, that I would need to be completely free to devote at least three or four years just to gather the material. Then there would be the time required to study and analyze it and draw conclusions.
I wasn't apprehensive about being absent from my real job, since the Committee arranges a paid leave of absence for its interviewees until their cases are finished. However, I was ignorant of the period allotted for the study and consequently I couldn't afford to commit myself to such a time-consuming methodology.
I searched in vain for a solution, until I remembered that one of the largest daily newspapers maintains an extensive archive, which is the pride of its founders and includes detailed information on important Arab personalities. Rumor has it that the Committee has obtained a copy of this archive and relies on it heavily in its work. I assumed that what this archive contains on the Doctor would be of great help to me.
Not just any member of the rank and file is granted access to the archive. I really had to hunt to come across someone to recommend me to its director, after which the said file was at my disposal in no time.
It wasn't as large as I expected. In one corner was the emblem of the publishing house and the complete name of the Doctor, in highly ornamented calligraphy.
I opened the folder, my fingers trembling from ex citement. It revealed a white sheet of paper with a date from tie early '50s at the top and nothing else. I turned it over and saw a similar sheet of paper.
Quickly, I examined the sheets of paper in the file and saw that they all lacked everything but a date. At the top of each sheet I discovered a trace of the glue that had stuck down clippings from newspapers and magazines.
The clerk in charge was surprised when I showed him the file, but he didn't let me in on anything. I was about to leave when it occurred to me to make a note of the aforementioned dates. I could go back to the newspapers and magazines they came from and so get access to the contents of the file in a relatively simple manner.
I jotted them down immediately and went to the next room to explain my problem to the attendant and get the volumes matching my first date. I was surprised at the _ack of anything about the Doctor. When I got to looking carefully, I found small sections had been carefully cut out of the pertinent issues with a razor blade. I noticed that some of them were on the pages devoted to crimes, movies, and television.
I had misgivings about this matter of missing sections. I decided to continue the research to confirm my suspicions. When I returned the next day, I was surprised by a new sign prohibiting nonemployees from using the library.
The same thing happened lock, stock, and barrel at the other newspapers, from the secret razor to a decree preventing me from using their libraries.
I resorted to the National Library and gave the authorities a list of the issues I wanted to see from the daily papers and weekly magazines. After waiting a few hours, I was informed the issues I had requested were currently at the bindery.
I had no more doubts, so I started thinking up a devious stratagem. I went to the offices of one of the weekly women's magazines and asked to see the issues published a week or two before my dates. When the clerk asked what I was working on, I took the precaution of saying I was researching famous crimes in contemporary Arab history. Each week, these magazines customarily cover important incidents and have a "police beat" column for criminal news as well as a separate column for news of the arts.
I dug into my work enthusiastically, my interest kindled primarily by the unexplained phenomena that leapt out at me. Luck was on my side when I discovered a picture of the Doctor as a young man in an issue published close to my first date. There he was-a new face in the film industry, with a successful comedy production under his belt.
Within months of my second date, I came across an article recounting the details of a strange crime: a young man had attacked "a well-known artistic personality," whom the magazine described as "a dedicated patriot." I extrapolated from the article that this person had something going with the assailant's sister. That very day she had been found dead under mysterious circumstances and her brother suspected this person. Nobody attached any importance to the accusation, so the brother had no choice but to shoot him. However, he wounded him only slightly.
It was strange that during the inquiry the injured party accused the defendant of being a member of a leftist organization, then made up with him and gave him a job in a company he managed.
A little voice kept whispering the real name of this artistic personality. My hunch was confirmed when the article gave his background and mentioned that before the revolution he had been a member of one of the extremist nationalist associations that played a prominent role in the struggle against English imperialism (this is a well-known fact of the Doctor's life), and that he abandoned his studies in 1947 to rush to Palestine at the head of a regiment of his enthusiastic comrades. There they fought in the war against the Zionists, who in turn fought desperately to create an Israeli state. After the revolution, he finished his degree and got involved in producing films.
This discovery cheered me up. I continued working along the same lines and was able to gather some valuable information, although it took quite a bit of time.
I learned that on the eve of the Tripartite Aggression against Egypt, he cofounded a carbonated beverage company, and that he was among those who stepped forward to buy up the foreign companies taken over after the aforementioned attack.
I came across the text of a speech he had delivered during an economic conference held in Damascus in the early days of the UAR He portrayed Arab unity as the lofty calling of every Arab in this century. He also attacked the Communists, accusing them of treason in consenting to the 1947 partition that authorized the creation of two states in Palestine, one for Arabs and the other for Jews.
I found some relatively unimportant, scattered items concerning him from this time period. Then fortune, which only rewards the persistent, smiled on me. By chance I came across a small bit of news in the social column, alluding to the lecture he delivered at a women's club in Algeria on the "Arab concept of socialism." For the first time, I found his name preceded by the title the Doctor. In an issue dated some months later I came across a full-page statement from a subcontractor in the public sector, congratulating the president of the country on his triumphs. Below it, the Doctor was listed as the director of the firm.
There was a long dry period, until I came across a statement published in the summer of 1967, which referred to a series of articles by him in one of the daily newspapers. The series analyzed the reasons for the defeat and attributed political responsibility for it to the Soviet Union.
During this period, he married for a third time. She was a daughter of an Arab oil potentate, known for her strange caprices and escapades. Naturally, considering the slant of the magazine, news about her soon eclipsed news about him. In the following years' issues, I found only brief hints at extensive achievements and huge projects undertaken in various areas of the region, especially after the October War. In these projects, the Doctor was the connecting link between foreign financiers and local consumers.
I felt that I'd gotten all I could out of the women's magazine, and that it was time to move on. When I thanked the library director for his help, he introduced himself to me.
I was surprised, because his had once been a well known name among newspaper columnists. I muttered, "But how? ..."
He answered my brief question, "Ask the one you are researching."
This really got to me and I quickly asked, "Whoever do you mean?"
He smiled, "Don't be afraid ... I won't say anything at all to anyone."
"I'm not afraid. I'm backed by influential circles I'm not at liberty to disclose."
His smile widened, "I wouldn't blame you if you were afraid."
"How did you know?"
&n
bsp; "From you. When you have sat in my place as long as I have, you can tell at first glance the nature of the people frequenting the library to examine old volumes. When I noticed you were different, my curiosity was aroused. It wasn't difficult for me to trace the pages you paused at or to deduce your interest in him."
I continued questioning him, "How did you come to be secluded here?"
"An article I published."
I looked at him questioningly and he added, "You can easily look it up."
I told him about the difficulties hampering me in my search through the daily paper for news of the Doctor. He interrupted me, "You will certainly find my article, because nobody pays any attention to the newspaper that published it. Besides, I didn't mention him by name."
He gave me the date the article was published and wished me luck. I immediately went to the newspaper. It was an evening daily with limited circulation, which was the reason I hadn't been interested in it at the beginning.
I looked for the article without telling anybody my objective. I stumbled upon it under the provocative title with tragic overtones, "Who Is Removing the Trees?"
Under this title, the writer discussed the disappearance of trees from Cairo's streets and few remaining gardens. Furthermore, he said that from the orderly way they were uprooted, influential persons appeared to be behind it. He asked whether there was a relationship between this phenomenon and the fabricated crisis in the lumber market, which resulted in inflated prices and a black market.
I recorded the contents of the article in my notebook. Then it occurred to me to take the opportunity to proceed in a new direction. I still stuck with this newspaper, but checked specific places: the social calendar, the business section, and the obituaries, at around the same dates I had previously used as a guide.
I hadn't anticipated the amount of information I would come across this way. For example, there was a series of "thank you" telegrams from the Doctor to the president of the country, and another of congratulations to the Doctor from a number of important people. Thus, I learned he had won a seat in Parliament in the general elections.
From a long obituary about some woman related to him by marriage, I discovered an extensive network of relationships linking him to the best-known, richest families and to the individuals holding the top positions in the justice department, the police, the army, the administration, and the world of business and finance.
Advertising, modern man's tool for successful communication, led me to another exciting discovery.
A series of ads caught my eye. They had been published repeatedly on the first page of the paper in recent years, showing French perfume, American cigarettes, and Japanese tape recorders. The advertiser's name was left off, whereas usually in such ads, the name of the importer or "agent" in the Committee's language, the authorized local representative, is mentioned.
The incessant work I had recently undertaken stimulated my mind, as was typical. I began to delve deeply into what came my way, trying to deduce underlying motives and relationships. My curiosity was aroused, so I went over to the paper's advertising department. I pretended to be a reporter from one of the foreign economic journals, preparing an in-depth report on ads published by the Arab media about foreign products.
The upper management of the department was too busy welcoming me to check my credentials, especially after I expressed my admiration for the successful jingles which advertised perfume and filter cigarettes. After all, the masses repeat them in complete obedience. I won their friendship by jokingly asking who among them hadn't yet switched to filters. This way, I easily got the information I wanted.
I wasn't surprised to learn that the Doctor's oldest son by his first wife managed the local firm that imported these products. I had anticipated something of the sort. But I was truly surprised, so much so that I almost burst out laughing, when they showed me the layout of a fullpage ad prepared by that same firm for immediate publication on the last page of all the national papers. The ad promised the Egyptians nothing other than the return of the real Coca-Cola.
I continued visiting the newspaper's premises for some months. The discoveries I made encouraged me to persevere along these lines, especially since no obstacles cropped up.
I came up with a lot of information, several notebooks full. Actually, some of it didn't have any real connection with the Doctor. My interests had gradually and unintentionally expanded to include some general matters. The news items I had previously read now seemed to scroll past my eyes for the first time. It was as though they took on a new significance with the passage of time, which allowed me to see all their diverse interconnections.
At the end of each day, I returned to my apartment exhausted, suffering from dizziness and difficulty in breathing. Dead tired, I would climb the seven floors to my top-floor apartment. After I had bathed and eaten, I dozed a little, then got up to work again. I transferred what I had written down in the morning to index cards provided by a close friend who could not hide his pity. I entered the information under the date the article was published, its source, and the most important subject, in anticipation of sorting the cards to start the second stage of research. I didn't finish until late at night. I slept fitfully, disturbed by unpleasant dreams consisting mostly of newspaper headlines. Once in a while I had a pleasurable dream dominated by images of scantily clad international beauty queens and movie starlets who had caught my attention from time to time.
Preyed upon by depression, I would struggle out of bed in the morning. My imagination multiplied the difficulties I might suffer after reaching the newspaper building and the obscure dangers that surrounded my work. I wouldn't perk up until I had visualized my successes and the remarkable world that had opened up before me.
Actually, a change had come over me in the last months. Formerly I had been bored with everything. My presentation to the Committee and the pursuit of any opportunity that would promote my talents was only an attempt to renew my interest in life. However, the research on the Doctor soon engrossed me, so much so that I began to dread death and prayed that God might avert traffic accidents and heart attacks until I had finished it.
One day when I felt particularly run down, I had to put off leaving. I sat and consulted the index cards I had written out. They were filed in a shoebox to make it easy to retrieve what I wanted.
I found I had a considerable amount of material on my main topics. But I was still ignorant of much of the background of some important points. There was no use in checking the Egyptian or Arabic newspapers, since the political and social situations discourage them from investigative reporting. It occurred to me that foreign magazines might help me, but where could I find collected back issues of even one of them?
The friend who had helped me with the index cards suggested I try the library at the American Embassy. I went to its new location. It had moved there after rioting mobs had burned the old building in 1965. They had been protesting the United States' role in the assassination of Zaire's nationalist leader, Lumumba, and its support of Mubutu, the next leader of Zaire, which was formerly Congo-Kinshasa.
At the library I found scattered issues from betterknown American magazines, such as Time and Newsweek. I leafed through them, concentrating on the pages about the Middle East and disregarding the covers and other parts. Because of this, I didn't notice that one of the issues I held in my hand had a color photograph of the Doctor on its cover. I noticed only afterward, when I found myself trembling with excitement as I read the detailed article about him. It was several pages long and chock full of exciting information.
It was one of last year's issues, covering the wedding of his daughter to an Arab president. This was news to me. Our papers hadn't mentioned it. Apparently, at the time, the marriage had aroused a storm of commentary, not only because of the difference in age, which exceeded thirty years, but primarily for its political and economic implications.
The magazine took this as an opportunity to print a brief biography of
him: how he came from a poor family, and how fortune smiled on him when the revolution broke out, because he was related to one of its leaders. This connection set him on the road to success by enabling him to get permission for a movie producer to make three comedies on the army, the navy, and the air force. In return he got a share of the take.
The magazine went on to say that once he had accumulated capital, it was not difficult to double it in a short time. It wasn't his fault that those running the economy, having been carried away by socialist ideas, had tied it up in a way that only special talents and consequently high fees could undo. By means of the extensive relationships he had reinforced through a series of successful marriages, the Doctor profited from removing these difficulties for whomever so desired. But the true beneficiary was the national economy. As an example, the magazine cited his role as a public sector contractor. He steered most of the projects to private companies he co-owned. Whatever the opinion of this practice, he indisputably helped support both private enterprise and the completion of many important public service projects, whose fruits the Egyptians enjoy today. These projects could never have been realized if they had been left up to the public sector.
At that time, the Doctor underwent a rigorous ordeal. The authorities seized him and put him in jail. It is hard to say why, since accounts differ. Rumor has it that he participated in an attempt to overthrow the government, and some said he had gone too far in advocating socialism. Someone confirmed that he was implicated in questionable financial dealings which were then illegal.
The magazine delved into the various rumors about him, describing them as the price paid for success in Arab countries. Its example was the rumor claiming that he attended the famous party held at one of the Egyptian air bases on the eve of the June War in 1967. According to the article, this rumor didn't mean anything whatsoever, since most Egyptian leaders attended it. As for other rumors attempting to link him with the surrender of the Golan Heights, there was a complete lack of evidence. As proof of his patriotism, the magazine cited his role in the war of attrition, when he won a contract to build gigantic fortifications costing millions of dollars. Rumors continued to fly even while he carried on this noble pursuit.
The Committee (Middle East Literature in Translation) Page 4
