Cairo Modern

2

They turned at the avenue’s first intersection and headed toward the governorate building. Ma’mun Radwan was the tallest, although Mahgub Abd al-Da’im was almost as tall. Ali Taha was of medium height and stocky, and Ahmad Badir was quite short with a very large head. Ma’mun Radwan wanted to conclude their day’s pursuits in the best possible way before greeting the day of rest. So he said in his tremulous voice, which seemed to rise straight from his heart, “Talking about women has distracted us from the topic at hand. What’s your final word on the debate we just attended?”

The debate had been about principles: whether they are necessary for mankind or should be dispensed with. Addressing Ma’mun Radwan, Ali Taha said, “We both agree that man needs principles. They’re the compass guiding the ship.”

Mahgub Abd al-Da’im said calmly and gravely, “Tuzz.”

Ali Taha, however, ignored him and continued to address Ma’mun. “Although we differ about the nature of these principles.…”

Shrugging his shoulders, Ahmad Badir observed, “As always!”

Ma’mun, whose eyes glittered with a fleeting light when he was excited — as at present — remarked, “All we need are the principles that God Almighty decreed.”

Mahgub Abd al-Da’im commented as if astonished, “I’m stunned that a man like you believes in legends.”

Ali Taha continued, “I believe in society, in the living human hive. Let’s respect society’s principles — on condition that we don’t sanctify them — because they ought to be renewed, from one generation to the next, by scholars and educators.”

Then Ahmad Badir asked him, “What principles does our generation need?”

He responded enthusiastically, “Belief in science not a spirit world, in society not paradise, in socialism not competition.”

Mahgub Abd al-Da’im’s critique of this statement was, “Tuzz, tuzz, tuzz.”

So Ahmad Badir asked him, “And you, Mr. Mahgub: What do you have to say about the debate?”

He replied calmly, “Tuzz.”

“Are principles necessary?”

“Tuzz.”

“Not necessary?”

“Tuzz.”

“Religion or science?”

“Tuzz.”

“For which of them?”

“Tuzz.”

“Don’t you have some opinion?”

“Tuzz.”

“Is this ‘tuzz’ an opinion?”

Mahgub replied with feigned calm, “It is the ultimate principle.”

Ma’mun Radwan turned to Ali Taha and said, more to state his opinion than to influence anyone, “God in the heavens and Islam on the earth. These are my principles.”

Ali Taha smiled and repeated Mahgub Abd al-Da’im’s previous comment, “I’m stunned that a man like you believes in legends.”

Mahgub chortled, “Tuzz.”

Casting a swift look at the others as they walked along, he said, “Amazing! How can a single hostel house all of us? My head is full of hot air, Mr. Ma’mun’s noggin is a flask with ancient legends sealed inside it, and Ali Taha is a display of contemporary myths.”

The other two ignored his comment, because they never knew when he was serious or joking and because it was tedious to debate with him, since by clowning around he evaded their attempts to pin him down.

When they could see the student hostel at the corner of Rashad Pasha Street, Ahmad Badir said goodbye and set off for the newspaper where he worked in the evening. The other three continued to the hostel to prepare for their Thursday night excursions.