Palace Walk

69

"What’s happening in the street?" al-Sayyid Ahmad wondered as he rose hastily from his desk. He went to the door, followed by Jamil al-Hamzawi and some of their customers. Al-Nahhasin was not a quiet street, quite the contrary. Its strident noise did not abate from one dawn until shortly before the next. There were the loud cries of vendors, haggling of shoppers, pleas of crazed beggars, and wisecracks of passers by. People conversed as though delivering a public oration. Even the most personal discussions ricocheted everywhere, flying up to the minarets. To this general commotion the Suarès omnibus added its clanking and the donkey carts their clatter. In no sense was it a quiet street, but a sudden clamor had arisen, at first heard in the distance like the roar of waves, then growing stronger and more raucous until it sounded like a howling wind. It enveloped the whole district, near and far. Even on this noisy street it was out of the ordinary and exceptional.

Al-Sayyid Ahmad thought a demonstration had broken out, as anyone who had experienced those days would have, but cries of joy were audible in the uproar. Wondering what it was, he went to the door where he bumped into the shaykh, or supervisor, of the district, who had rushed up. He was crying out with a jubilant face, "Have you heard the news?"

Even before he heard any more, the proprietor’s eyes began to glow optimistically. "No," he said. "What’s it all about?"

The man replied enthusiastically, "Sa'd Pasha has been freed".

Al-Sayyid Ahmad could not restrain himself from yelling, "Really?"

The shaykh affirmed, "Allenby broadcast a bulletin with this good news just now".

The next moment the two men were hugging each other. Al-Sayyid Ahmad was deeply moved. His eyes filled with tears. Laughing to disguise his emotions, he said, "He’s known for broadcasting threats, not good news. What’s made him change, that old son of a gun?"

The shaykh of the district replied, "Glory to the one who never changes". He shook hands with the proprietor and then left the store shouting, "God is most great. "Allahu akbar". Victory to the Muslims".

Al-Sayyid Ahmad stood at the door of the shop, looking up and down the street with a heart that had recaptured the delight and innocence of childhood. The effect of the news about Sa'd was evident everywhere. The entries of the shops were jammed with their owners and customers, who were congratulating each other. The windows of the houses were crowded with children, and ululating trills of joy could be heard from the women at the peepholes of the window grilles. Impromptu demonstrations took place between al-Nahhasin, the Goldsmiths Bazaar, and Bayt al-Qadi, with people yelling their hearts out for Sa'd, Sa'd, Sa'd, and then Sa'd. The muezzins went up to the balconies of their minarets to give thanks, pray, and shout. There were tens of donkey carts with hundreds of women, fully covered in wraps, dancing and singing patriotic songs. All he could see were people, or, more precisely, people shouting. The earth had disappeared and the walls were concealed by them. Shouts for Sa'd were heard everywhere. The air seemed to have turned into a tremendous phonograph record, spinning incessantly on a turntable, repeating his name. News bounced along the mass of heads that the English were striking their camps, which had been set up at the street corners, in preparation for redeployment of the soldiers to al-Abbasiya. The enthusiasm increased and delirium reached a fever pitch. Al-Sayyid Ahmad had never seen such a sight before. He looked every which way with sparkling eyes and a bounding heart. Under his breath, he sang along with the women dancers, "O Husayn… a burden has been lifted".

Then Jamil al-Hamzawi put his head close to the proprietor’s ear to say, "The shops are distributing cold drinks and putting up flags".

Al-Sayyid Ahmad told him enthusiastically, "Do what the others are doing and more. Put your whole heart into it". Then with a trembling voice he added, "Hang Sa'd’s picture under the calligraphy of 'In the Name of God.'"

Jamil al-Hamzawi looked reluctant and cautioned him, "In that place it can be seen from outside. Wouldn't it be better for us to bide our time until things return to normal?"

The proprietor replied scornfully, "The era of fear and bloodshed has passed, never to return. Don't you see that demonstrations are going on under the eyes of the English, who aren't making any attempt to interfere with them? Hang up the picture and trust in God".

"The days of fear and bloodshed have vanished. Isn't that so? Sa'd is free and at liberty. He’s probably on his way now to Europe. Only a step or a word stands between us and independence. These are demonstrations with trills of joy, not bullets. Those of us who are still alive are happy people, having passed safely through the fires. God’s mercy on the martyrs… Fahmy? He’s escaped from a much greater danger than he ever imagined. He’s escaped, praise and thanks to God. Yes, Fahmy has escaped. What are you waiting for? Pray to God your Lord".

When the family gathered that evening, their hoarse voices revealed that they had spent the day shouting. It was a happy evening. Joy was evident in their eyes, lips, gestures, and words. Even Amina’s heart imbibed some of the overflowing happiness. She realized that Sa'd’s release brought good news of a return to peace and joy.

"From the balcony I saw something no one has ever seen before," she commented. "Has Judgment Day come with the scales to weigh our sins? Were those women crazy? The echo of their singing still rings in my ears: 'O Husayn… a burden has been lifted.'"

Laughingly messing up Kamal’s hair, Yasin said, "It was a word of farewell to speed the departing English on their way, just as you see off an unwelcome guest by breaking a jug after him".

Kamal looked at his brother without saying anything. Then Amina had another question: "Is God finally pleased with us?"

Yasin replied, "No doubt about it". Then he asked Fahmy, "What do you think?"

Fahmy, who seemed as happy as a child, said, "The English wouldn't have freed Sa'd if they weren't agreeing to our demands. He'll travel to Europe and then return with independence. This is what everyone says. No matter what else happens, April 7, 1919, will remain the date marking the success of the revolution".

Yasin exclaimed, "What a day! Government employees participated openly in the demonstrations. I didn't think I was capable of walking that distance or yelling for so long".

Fahmy laughed. He said, "I wish I could have seen you shouting zealously. Yasin takes part in a demonstration. He gets excited and yells. What a rare spectacle!"

It truly was an amazing day. Yasin had been swept along by its swelling current and carried by its strong waves like a tiny, weightless leaf, fluttering everywhere. He could scarcely believe that he had been able to regain control of himself and had retreated to a quiet observation tower where, through its glass, he had calmly watched what was happening, without any emotional involvement. In the light of Fahmy’s observation, he began to recall the state he had been in while he was in the demonstration. He remarked with astonishment, "A man forgets himself in the strangest way when he’s with so many people. He almost seems to become a new person".

Fahmy asked him with interest, "Did you really feel enthusiastic?"

"I shouted for Sa'd so much my throat became sore. I had tears in my eyes once or twice".

"How did you get into the demonstration?"

"We heard the news that Sa'd had been released when we were at school. I was really ecstatic. Were you expecting that? Then the teachers suggested joining the large demonstration outside. I didn't feel like it and thought I'd slip off home but was forced to walk with them until I could get an opportunity to escape. Then I found myself in a swirling sea of people. There was an electric atmosphere of enthusiasm. Before I knew it, I forgot myself and merged with the stream. I was as zealous and optimistic as a person can be. Please believe me".

Fahmy shook his head and murmured, "Amazing…"

Yasin laughed out loud and asked, "Did you think I had lost my sense of patriotism? The thing is, I don't like noise and violence. I don't have any problem reconciling love of country and love of peace".

"What if that reconciliation is shattered?"

Yasin smiled and answered without any hesitation, "I put love of peace first. I come first… Is it impossible for my country to be happy unless it consumes my life? God’s deliverance! I'm not taking any chances with my life, but I'll love my country so long as I'm alive".

"That’s very wise," Amina commented. Then, looking at Fahmy, she asked, "Does my master think otherwise?"

Fahmy replied calmly, "Of course not. It’s very wise, as you said…"

Kamal was not happy to be left out of the conversation, especially since he was convinced that he had played a vital role that day. He volunteered, "We went on strike too, but the headmaster told us we were still children and would be trampled underfoot if we left school. He gave us permission to demonstrate in the school courtyard. So we assembled there and chanted for a long time, 'Long live Sa'd.'" He repeated the chant in a loud voice. "After that we didn't go back to the classes, because the teachers had left the school to join the demonstrators outside".

Yasin threw the boy a sarcastic look and remarked, "But your friends have gone…"

"To hell," Kamal said, in spite of himself. The comment did not express his true feelings at all, but he felt that circumstances required it and, faced with Yasin’s sarcasm, he wished to mask his defeat. In his heart he felt bewildered and slandered. He could not forget how, on his return from school, he had stood in the deserted campsite, casting his eyes in every direction in painful silence as tears welled up in his eyes. It would be a long time before he forgot tea on the sidewalk by the cistern, the admiration his singing had garnered, his affectionate treatment by the soldiers and especially by Julian, and the friendship that linked him to those outstanding gentlemen whom he believed to be superior to the rest of mankind.

Amina said, "Sa'd Pasha’s a lucky man. The whole world is chanting his name. Not even 'Our Effendi' Abbas II was treated like that. Sa'd’s no doubt a Believer, because God grants real victories only to Believers. Sa'd’s been victorious over the English, who even defeated the Zeppelin. What greater victory can you ask for? The man was born auspiciously on the Night of Destiny in Ramadan, which commemorates the Qur'an’s descent".

"Do you love him?" Fahmy asked with a smile.

"I love him, since you do".

Fahmy spread his hands out and raised his eyebrows disapprovingly. "That doesn't mean anything," he said.

She sighed somewhat uneasily and explained, "Whenever I got some sad news, tearing my heart to pieces with sorrow, I would ask myself, 'Do you suppose this would have happened if Sa'd had not started his rebellion?' But a man loved by everyone must also be loved by God". Sighing audibly, she continued: "I grieve for those who have perished. How many mothers are weeping sorely now? How many a mother finds that today’s joy only adds another sorrow to her regrets?"

Fahmy winked at Yasin and told her, "A really patriotic mother would trill with joy at her son’s martyrdom".

She put her fingers in her ears and shouted, "May God be my witness to what the young master has said… A mother trills with joy when her son is martyred? Where? On this earth? Not here or even underground where the devils reside".

Fahmy laughed loudly. He thought for a while. Then with twinkling eyes he said, "Mama… I'm going to tell you a terrible secret that can be revealed now. I participated in the demonstrations and met death face to face".

She looked at him gravely and incredulously. With a bewildered smile she said, "You?… Impossible. You're part of my flesh and blood. Your heart comes from mine. You're not like the others…"

Smiling at her, he declared, "I swear to you by God Almighty that it’s true.

Her smile disappeared and her eyes grew wide with consternation. She looked back and forth between him and Yasin, who was also staring inquisitively at Fahmy. After swallowing, she mumbled, "O Lord!.. How can I believe my ears?" Shaking her head in helpless agony, she exclaimed, "You!"

He had expected her to be upset, but not to the extent that she clearly was. After all, his confession came after the danger had passed. Before she could say anything more, he told her, "That’s ancient history. It’s over and done with. There’s no reason to be alarmed now".

She responded with nervous insistence, "Hush! You don't love your mother. May God forgive you".

Fahmy laughed disconcertedly. With a mischievous smile, Kamal told his mother, "Do you remember the day I was fired on in the pastry shop? I saw him in the deserted street on my way home. He warned me not to tell anyone I had seen him". Then he turned to Fahmy and asked with avid interest, "Tell us, Mr. Fahmy, what you experienced in the demonstrations. How did the battles start? What happened when people fell dead? Were you armed?"

Yasin interrupted the conversation to tell the mother, "It’s ancient history, dead and buried. It would be better to thank God he’s safe than get alarmed".

She asked him harshly, "Did you know about it?"

He quickly replied, "No, by my mother’s grave". For fear that might not be adequate, he added, "And by my religion, faith, and Lord".

He rose to go to her. He put a hand on her shoulder and told her tenderly, "Did you relax when you should have been alarmed only to be alarmed now that you can relax? Declare that God is one. The danger has passed and peace has returned. Here’s Fahmy in front of you…" He laughed. "By tomorrow well be able to walk the length and breadth of Cairo by day or night without fear or anxiety".

Fahmy said earnestly, "Mama, please don't spoil our good spirits with pointless sorrow".

She sighed and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, even though her lips moved. She smiled wanly to announce her compliance with his request. Then she bowed her head to hide her eyes filled with tears.