The magazine also said that when Egypt was liberated from Soviet domination in the '70s, his life entered a new stage as he transferred his activities to supplying arms, a profession which always yields astronomical profits. He became one of the largest suppliers, and so got credit for the victory in the October War. However, the largest profits resulted from the skyrocketing price of petroleum after the war, and so didn't find their way to his pockets; since he failed to attain them through his own short-lived third marriage, he then tried to succeed by marrying off his daughter.
Although the Doctor didn't stop importing weapons for limited conflicts in the Middle East and Africa, and although he made known, more than once, his resolve to form a strong company of mercenaries, ready to serve anybody willing to pay the price, he nevertheless became an advocate of peace. He worked energetically to import foodstuffs, cars, and airplanes, thus benefiting from the open-door policy. In this connection, the magazine cited the statement prevalent throughout the Arab world, "Even if the Doctor doesn't bake the pie, he's first in line for a slice."
The magazine noted the many colorful stories about him. Take for example, the one about the million uniforms leftover from the Vietnam War, which were donated by the United States Army on behalf of poor Egyptian peasants. They found their way to his warehouses, where they were sold in turn to a number of merchants for the equivalent of six million pounds.
It concluded the article by saying, "One can only admire the vitality and energy of this Arab billionaire. This vitality emerged and left its mark on the last decade. In spite of the price terrorists put on his head after his cooperation with Israeli firms became common knowledge, his energy will undoubtedly last a long time before it withers.
"Because of his age, he now needs artificial and chemical aids above and beyond a face-lift in order to carry out his conjugal obligations when visiting his numerous mansions scattered throughout the Arab world. However, he needs no assistance in the financial dealings of political activities he manipulates from behind the scenes. Whatever is said about his moral principles, it cannot be denied that the Doctor and his ilk carry the torch of progress, peace, and stability for the region, which has long been disrupted by extremism."
I entered the whole article in my notebook, which took several hours. Afterward, happy, I returned to my apartment and got busy at once transferring my information onto separate index cards, or, depending on the subject, adding some parts to existing cards.
No sooner had I finished than I felt I had completed my preparations. There was nothing preventing me from starting the second stage of the research.
I was inclined to make his biography the backbone of my work: to begin with his family and childhood, then to move on to his school days and youth, and from there to his patriotic activities. I would continue with his rise to power, which encompassed the three consecutive wars: the Tripartite Attack in 1956, the June War in 1967, and finally the October War in 1973. I would finish with the pinnacle he now occupies in the Arab world.
But I soon perceived the gaps in this program. The information available to me from the first stage of this life was extremely sparse. I had not known until now whether his nickname "the Doctor" was supported by a Ph.D., or whether the appellation was a convention, with nothing original or unique to it. The most impor tant thing in all this was that it put me face-to-face with the question that had to be answered, namely, what comes after a climax? The strong relationship between this question and one meaning Arabs give to "luminous," as in "She glows"-the fetus stirring in the womb-is apparent. The significance of the answer itself is also clear, since his destiny is a simple matter after so much study.
I was so deep in thought I didn't sense it getting dark. When I did notice, I lit the electric light on my desk. At that moment the doorbell rang.
As I had mentioned before, I live on the seventh floor and there is no elevator. In spite of the law requiring owners of apartment buildings with more than five floors to provide an elevator, my landlord was able to get around the law quite easily by building the last two floors set back a little, so that they are not readily visible from the street. This way the law was satisfied and so did nothing, no matter how much we residents complained to the appropriate agencies.
At any rate, this didn't encourage anyone to visit me, which didn't bother me at all. On the contrary, lately it was a course of deep, intense relief since I was so overworked. If anyone did come, he would be compelled to climb the stairs. When he got to the top floor, he would be winded and his footsteps would be heavy. The walls were so thin, due to another attempt by the owner to avoid the clearly defined building codes, that while I was sitting at my desk, even before the doorbell rang, I could distinctly hear footsteps.
I had been hearing footsteps for a while. But because I was so deep in thought, it didn't dawn on me until I noticed how many there were. I was surprised when I opened the door and found so many ladies and gentlemen crowded into the narrow hall in front of my apartment.
The stairs were black as pitch because the landlord had removed the light fixture in an attempt to pressure the residents into withdrawing their complaints. Because of this, I couldn't see the faces of the visitors clearly at first. When I recognized the Committee members before whom I had appeared nearly a year earlier, I was profoundly astonished.
My heart beat violently and I stepped back from the door, saying in confusion, "Do come in ... Do come in ... I hadn't expected ... I hadn't expected ..."
This was true. I had never ever imagined the Committee might visit me at my apartment. Actually, lately I had been so immersed in my work I had almost forgotten its existence and the real purpose of the study I was so caught up in preparing.
The Committee members didn't wait for a second invitation. They sauntered into my small apartment and immediately scattered throughout it. They looked closely at its contents, poking around behind and under my bits of furniture. That single woman and her elderly companion went over the contents of the kitchen, which was located opposite the front door. Meanwhile, two of the three high-ranking officers closed in on my sturdy refrigerator, a product of Egyptian industry in the '60s, and started comparing it with the new imported fridges.
I closed the door and stood there aghast, unable to comprehend. I looked around for their chairman, the one who couldn't see well and only heard with one ear. I didn't find him and concluded that he either hadn't come with them at all, or couldn't climb the stairs because of his age. I did notice the ugly Stubby and his companion with the light-colored eyes. As had happened the previous time, since I couldn't concentrate, and since I was preoccupied with finding an explanation for their unexpected visit, I couldn't tell how many were there.
In a voice I tried to keep steady and resonant, I said, "Shall I make tea or coffee?"
No one answered me. Silence fell. I watched them assemble in front of the rows of books I had placed systematically on the floor of the hallway leading to the bedroom, then rummage through them. I found this a great opportunity-one that hadn't crossed my mindby which they might detect the scope of my study, especially since the books were in several languages and on a wide range of subjects.
Stubby suddenly broke away from the group and, accompanied by his buddy the Blond, headed quickly for the inner room where I worked and slept. I hurried after them.
There were piles of books, newspapers, and magazines all over, but they ignored them, and homed in on the small table I used for writing. There were some files and newspapers on one side and a pile of books with a dictionary on top at the other. In the center was the notebook I had been working on, and beside it the index cards I had been using, along with the shoebox containing the rest of them arranged according to a system I was proud of.
Stubby walked around the table, sat down, and leaned over the index cards, looking them over with interest, unable to conceal his excitement. As for his buddy, he had stopped, stone-faced, to flip through the files and newspapers.
Pulling a large piece of cardboard from between the files, he suddenly said, "What's this?"
He was indicating some pictures cut from pictorial magazines. I had pasted them skillfully onto a piece of paper so that they appeared to be a single picture. The American president Carter was in the center, facing us, looking over our heads, as suits his lofty position. Right next to him was a very small picture of the Israeli prime minister Begin. I had replaced his long trousers with a child's shorts and the two looked like father and son. In a semicircle in front of them I had pasted a collection of pictures of the more prominent personalities of the Arab world: presidents, kings, leaders, intellectuals, and businessmen, genuflecting as if in prayer, thereby presenting us their rear ends.
I answered, smiling, "This is a hobby I engage in from time to time. I cut pictures of famous people out of magazines and glue them onto cardboard, choosing suitable situations. I add other pictures to complete the situations until I get a perfect scene."
He continued looking at the scene with disapproval. After a moment I added, "As you know, there is a whole school of art whose work is founded on a similar basis. At first this appears extremely simple, but to get worthwhile results you have to successfully link originality and novelty on the one hand with profundity on the other."
He didn't say anything, but put the scene aside as though intending to return to it later and resumed looking through my papers.
Stubby now addressed me, not raising his eyes for a moment from the index cards he was giving the onceover. "We never imagined you could collect so much information. It is as admirable as it is unfortunate."
It didn't surprise me that the Committee knew what I was doing, or that Stubby used Arabic, since I was sure the Committee members had mastered it. But his words really alarmed me. I waited anxiously for him to explain what he meant.
He looked directly at me. I discovered for the first time that he was walleyed, which accentuated his ugliness. He went on to say, "We had thought that the obstacles placed in your path would divert you to another subject. In fact, we were in hopes of that, because ... because some of our members pinned great hopes on you."
The blood drained from my face and my eyes hung on his ugly eyes. Meanwhile, abandoning the index cards, he pushed his chair backward.
"You can decide for yourself now, whether to persevere or to change your subject. We don't force anyone to do anything."
"After all this time?" I said in agitation. "The year is almost over."
"This is a trivial point. The Committee has the power to give you as much time as you need," he said forcefully.
I clenched my fists. Triumphing over the disgust he engendered in me, I said in an ingratiating voice, "I've covered a lot of ground and am just finishing up."
One of the officers, who had come into the room during the conversation and so heard part of it, said, "Didn't you think about the significance of what you were doing and its effects?"
Defending myself, I said, "My research was strictly objective. I covered nothing but proven facts and logical explanations. I have almost finished collecting and organizing the required information. I need only distill the important points and weave them into a wellordered analysis."
"This is precisely why we want to give you some advice," Stubby said angrily.
The rest of the Committee members had begun to congregate near me. The two women sat on the edge of the bed, and one of the officers sat beside them. Next to them, another officer sat on the armchair. The third officer and some other members joined the Blond at the table. Others leaned on the arms of the chair, the wardrobe, and the door. Stubby held out some index cards. Among them I noticed the ones with the notes from the American magazines. They passed them around in silence, then began to look at me. They formed a semicircle surrounding me.
I faced them again imploringly, "I chose the Doctor after much thought and scrutiny. The selection of the most luminous personality in the Arab world is an exceedingly difficult matter because of the number of countries, the spread of education, the proliferation of communications, and consequently ..."
Stubby interrupted me angrily, "And consequently the existence of many luminous personalities. You admit to it."
I answered heatedly, "We will not find a greater luminary than the Doctor, or anyone with a stronger presence anywhere in the Arab world. It would be enough that the idea of Arab unity is inextricably linked with his name. He is one of its foremost advocates, as is well known. What most people don't know and what I have clearly documented is that during this decade, when the demand for Arab unity has declined, he is one of its most prominent advocates and dedicated believers. Even more strikingly, the unity, which was not achieved in the period when its popularity was on the rise, is now being realized even as its popularity declines. This is not immediately apparent to the observer faced with the difference and dissentions prevailing between the various regimes. But when he looks deeper, he finds under that misleading exterior a strong unity, the likes of which we have never before witnessed. That unity, for which the Doctor deserves all the credit, is the unity of foreign commodities used by everyone.
"Once again I emphasize that the documents I collected confirm his strong relationship with all the fateful events our nation has experienced during the past thirty years. Today he, more than any person at any time, holds the political threads of the future in his hands.
"It is enough to say that he was the middleman for the huge multinational corporations in providing for our nation the new equipment and inventions that have become part of contemporary civilization, everything from Samsonite briefcases and transistors to electronics and jumbo jets, and from toothpaste and shaving cream to vaginal deodorant and drugs to increase virility and prowess. And in this context, he created opportunities for the talents of scientists, university professors, and planners, whom Arab regimes take pains to train by the hundreds, but then prevent them from using their abilities, so that neither they nor their nations profit.
"Nevertheless, there is another aspect to the subject. I hope you will be magnanimous enough to hear me out. The Doctor attracted me as a subject. He led me into multiple disciplines. On one hand, this would reveal to you my diverse talents, and on the other, impart to the study itself a dimension that would enrich and enhance its importance to the utmost.
"I was thinking about that very point when you honored me with a visit. I determined that the traditional approach, which entails compiling a biography of a person, must be replaced by an innovative method drawing on a number of studies in various scholarly disciplines.
"The first important branch is in the discipline of aesthetics, dealing with extreme patriotism and the uprooting of trees, which in turn connects with a branch of economics concerning the role of buying and selling in the life of nations and individuals. A third branch, within ethics, treats the obsolescence of truth, trust, and honor. Fourth, there is a division of psychology that investigates the roots of the anxiety that motivates geniuses and pioneers to transfer their energies from one field to another. This study might lead to an important discovery about the Doctor's childhood and how he was breast-fed.
"The fifth field of study, within politics and administration, discusses the molding of public opinion into unified mass beliefs and tastes, which can easily be manipulated at will.
"Indeed it gives me great pleasure to announce, with all due pride, that I've come across some unknown but elegant odes composed by him, plus some scattered allusions to his opinions on film, music, and the theater, all in all a suitable basis for a creative study on contemporary literature and art.
"Connected with this is an independent investigation on the development that occurred in the Arabic language. This development finds expression in the disappearance of specific words and the appearance of new ones, some of them unique, unprecedented forms, such as `pilfer' and `pretend not to hear,' whereas others, such as `diversification' and `naturalization' and `activization' are newly created derivations
of familiar words.
"The Doctor's unique mental flexibility and his capacity for reshaping his attitudes and consistently landing on his feet inspired me to do a study on the psychology of child rearing and character development. Because of the special importance of this study, I hope you will allow me to digress on this point in order to present an example that comes to mind. It stems from the facts presented at the first interview with which I was honored at your headquarters. By that I mean my detailed presentation on Coca-Cola.
"As you have learned, your honors, this bottle entered our country at the end of the '40s and beginning of the '50s under the aegis of the vast advertising campaign that facilitated its spread to even the most remote villages and hamlets. Coca-Cola became a household word.
"After the revolution, Coca-Cola's popularity soon began to wane. I found out that the Doctor, among other factors, was responsible. To wit, he tried to compete by using a local beverage destined to succeed only for a short while.
"However, the crushing blow fell at the beginning of the '60s, when the Arab governmental agencies boycotting Israel discovered that Coca-Cola had given the Israelis bottling rights. As a result, Coca-Cola was blacklisted and barred from Arab countries. The market was wide open for the Doctor.
"As you know, nothing stays the same for long. The Doctor's plan failed for several reasons, which there is no point in enumerating now. The aforementioned boycott necessarily fell apart overnight and furthermore, the Doctor was in the right place at the right time. He got a head start through his efforts to remove the obstacles and obstructions long separating this refreshing drink from its Egyptian aficionados, and as a reward for his efforts, the company granted him bottling rights using a national bottle.
The Committee (Middle East Literature in Translation) Page 5
