Before the Throne

63

HORUS HERALDED, “Muhammad Anwar Sadat!”

A trim, dark-complected man of middling stature came in. He continued on his way until he stood before the throne.

Osiris invited him to address the court.

“I was born in the village of Mit Abul-Kom,” Sadat began, “and raised in a poor family. There I met with many daunting hardships during my studies. Filled with patriotic passion since I was small, I took part in Wafdist demonstrations. I was able to enroll in the War College, which opened its doors to people of lowly backgrounds like mine after the treaty of 1936. From the time of my graduation, I was appalled that the army was under the control of the British military. Seized by the idea of armed revolution against the English, I created the first secret apparatus in the army in 1939. I contacted the Muslim Brotherhood and was much impressed by their activities; during the war, I also tried to be in touch with the Germans. For that I was arrested and put on trial. Not only was I acquitted, I was returned to army service, as well.

“At that time, Gamal Abdel-Nasser contacted me and recruited me to his organization. When the 1952 Revolution occurred, events kept cascading one after another until Abdel-Nasser died, and I succeeded him as president in a moment of acute crisis. I was well aware of the negatives that decayed the greatness of the Nasser era, so I launched a new revolution to save the nation from imminent doom. I smashed the centers of power, then moved slowly toward establishing security and democratic rule. On October 6, 1973, I surprised not only the occupying enemy, but the whole world with an unforeseen victory. I achieved a triumph that saved the Arab soul from despair as it redeemed honor from shame, before embarking on another adventure by boldly entering the enemy’s land to call for a settlement between us using words rather than weapons. My long quest ended with the accords at Camp David. I launched the great opening, al-Infitah, to rescue the nation’s economy, and made new advances toward representative government. Yet I was hindered by obstacles that I had not taken into account, for the opposition deviated from the true path, as the fanatic religious tendency suddenly began to menace the nation with violence. In the face of all these challenges, I adopted a resolute position from which there could be no retreat — but matters ended in my assassination on the anniversary of the day on which I had brought my country the pride of victory.”

Akhenaten was first to reply to Sadat’s speech.

“I hail you as a fellow apostle of peace,” he told him. “Nor am I astonished at your opponents’ accusing you of treason. They made the same charge against me, and for the same reason.”

“Your victory reminds me of that of Ramesses II, which culminated in a pact of peace and the marriage of his son to the daughter of the Hittite king,” said Thutmose III.

“A ruler is responsible first and foremost for the life of his people,” added Ramesses II. “From this starting point, he resorts to war or turns toward peace.”

“I sincerely believed in the futility of continuing a war policy,” said Anwar Sadat.

“How much you resemble me, Mr. President,” Amenhotep III admitted, “in your love of the good life for your people and yourself. Both of us reveled in pageantry and ease, in grandeur and palaces. Yet my age allowed me to bask in luxury without vexation, while in yours you tasted the bitter with the sweet. Permit me to express to you my sympathy and my affection.”

“You ruled in circumstances similar in some respects to those which confronted me during my first reign,” Horemheb said, “after the death of the aged King Aya. I concede that you performed truly noble deeds, and that you took some beneficial steps. Yet you were so lax in combating corruption and corrupt people, that it seemed your victories were turned into defeats.”

“I labored to encourage civil servants to strike off the hands of corrupt officials,” swore Anwar Sadat.

“No nation can exist without discipline and morals,” proclaimed Horemheb.

Then Gamal Abdel-Nasser asked Sadat, “How could it have been so easy for you to distort my memory so treacherously?”

“I was forced to take the position that I did, for the essence of my policy was to correct the mistakes I inherited from your rule,” rebutted Sadat.

“Yet didn’t I delegate power to you in order to satisfy you, encourage you, and treat you as a friend?”

“How tyrannical to judge a human being for a stand taken in a time of black terror, when fathers fear their sons and brothers fear each other!” shot back Sadat.

“And what was the victory that you won but the fruit of my long preparations for it!” bellowed Abdel-Nasser.

“A defeated man like you did not score such a triumph,” retorted Sadat. “Rather, I returned to the people their freedom and their dignity, then led them to an undeniable victory.”

“And you gave away everything for the sake of an ignominious peace,” bristled Abdel-Nasser, “dealing Arab unity a fatal thrust, condemning Egypt to exclusion and isolation.”

“From you I inherited a nation tottering on the abyss of annihilation,” countered Sadat. “The Arabs would neither offer a friendly hand in aid, nor did they wish us to die, nor to be strong. Rather, they wanted us to remain on our knees at their mercy. And so I did not hesitate to take my decision.”

“You exchanged a giant that had always stood by us for one who had always opposed us!” Abdel-Nasser upbraided him.

“I went to the giant who held the solution in his hand,” pointed out Sadat. “Since then, events have confirmed that my thoughts were correct.”

“Then you rushed into the Infitah until the country was drowning in a wave of inflation and corruption,” Abdel-Nasser asserted, pressing his indictment. To the degree it was possible, in my time the poor were secure, while in yours, only the rich and the thieves were safe.”

“I worked for the well-being of Egypt, while the opportunists pounced behind my back,” lamented Sadat.

“You tried to murder me, and, if not for Divine Providence, you would have succeeded,” said Mustafa al-Nahhas. “Yet you lost your own life as the result of assassination. Do you still believe in that method?”

“We need to live twice to acquire true wisdom,” pleaded Sadat.

“I have heard of your call for democracy, and I was astonished,” al-Nahhas continued. “Then it became clear to me that you wanted democratic rule in which the leader has dictatorial authority.”

“I wanted a democracy that would return the village to its traditional manners, and bring back respect for the father,” said Sadat.

“This is tribal democracy,” al-Nahhas replied.

“That is true,” said Saad Zaghloul. “Yet, though true democracy is taken, not given, there is no call to blame him unreasonably.”

“The travails of the people grew worse and worse,” resumed Mustafa al-Nahhas. “What happened is what usually transpires in such conditions, when one avoids dealing with strife and extremism. You let things get out of control as if you didn’t care. Then suddenly you exploded and threw everyone in prison, enraging both Muslims and Christians, moderates and extremists alike. Finally things culminated in the tragedy at the reviewing stand.”

“I found that there was no other option but a decisive blow to control the chaos,” Sadat said defiantly, “for it seemed the country was about to erupt into full-blown civil war.”

“When the ruler usurps the rights of his people, he makes an enemy out of them,” adjudged Saad Zaghloul. “When that happens, the political strength of the country is squandered in internal conflict, rather than in doing what should be done.”

Isis then uttered her summation.

“Thanks to this son,” she said, “the spirit returned to the homeland. Egypt regained her complete independence, as it had been before the Persian incursion. He erred as others too have erred, while accomplishing more good than others have done.”

Osiris then turned toward Anwar Sadat.

“I welcome you as one of the Immortals among the sons of Egypt,” he told him. “You shall proceed to your other tribunal with a testimonial bestowing honor from ours.”