Alaa al-Aswany - The Automobile Club of Egypt

Mr. Wright received us in his office with calculated civility. He bowed and shook my mother’s hand in condolence, then gestured to us to take a seat. He spoke slowly, articulating carefully to help us understand his poor Arabic. From the outset I felt his courtesy was mere formality. He seemed entirely without feeling, operating within his officious parameters. It was apparent that he had decided to act within some very limited parameters.

My chair was a little way from him, whereas my mother was sitting right next to him and came straight to the point: “We have come to ask you for what my late husband was entitled to.”

As if expecting the question, he answered without hesitation, “You are entitled to his end-of-service payment. I will have it sent to your home within the next two days at the latest.”

My mother pursed her lips and looked straight at him. “And what about my late husband’s pension?”

“Unfortunately, there is no pension.”

As Mr. Wright uttered that sentence, his blue eyes shot us an admonitory look. We were testing his limits.

“My late husband worked at the Club for more than five years. How can you leave his children without a pension?”

“We will pay everything we owe you.”

“The end-of-service payment, however much that is, will keep us going for a few days or months. Our security depends on his pension, to which we are entitled.”

It surprised me that my mother neither pleaded nor begged but rather declared her rights with her head held high. Mr. Wright’s face flushed, and in a tone of growing impatience, he replied, “I would like to be able to help you, but my hands are tied by the rules and bylaws of the Club, which make no provision for a pension.”

“Then the rules and bylaws are unjust.”

“Well, that’s as it may be, but we cannot go against them.”

My mother smiled derisively. “Did they just fall down from the sky?”

Wright gave her an uneasy look. He held up a finger in warning. “I beg your pardon!”

My mother paid no heed and continued angrily, “When you die, will the Club not pay your pension to your children?”

Wright was surprised by that question, but he took it in stride. He had a harsh look and was relishing the condescension of his considered reply, “Yes. There will be a pension for my family when I die. However, in your case, there is no pension. You are entitled to his end-of-service lump sum and that is all.”

“And why would that be?”

“Because the Automobile Club has no pension plan for Egyptians. Only for Europeans.”

“Aren’t Egyptians flesh and blood like Europeans? Don’t their children need support like the children of the Europeans, of the khawagas ?”

“What you are saying may be correct, but it was Europeans who invented the automobile and introduced it to Egypt. It was Europeans who founded the Automobile Club and who manage it whereas Egyptians only work here as menials. Egyptians and Europeans cannot possibly enjoy the same rights.”

There was a moment’s silence in which I felt nothing but loathing for Mr. Wright. My mother stood up and, her voice quivering with emotion, said, “I shall get my husband’s pension. You will see for yourself.”

“I wish you good luck.”

“We will get what we are entitled to, even if it means going to court, Mr. Wright.”

At that moment, Mr. Wright decided she had gone too far, and he shouted back, “Is that a threat?”

“It is not a threat. I am simply telling you what I am going to do.”

My mother stormed out of the office with me behind her. In the entrance of the club, some of the staff were waiting for us. My mother told them what had happened, and they all commiserated. Some said that the management of the Automobile Club always treated Egyptians worse than foreigners. In spite of their obvious sympathy for us, however, I noticed that they spoke cautiously, some even lowering their voices and glancing around.

As well as being furious with Mr. Wright, I was in awe of my mother. I had the same feeling that used to come over me as a child when I went with her to the market and, terrified by the clamor, clutched the hem of her robe for protection. I saw her differently now — as an Upper Egyptian woman, who, under her abundant tenderness, had a core of steel and was ready to fight, heedless of the odds or the consequences. In the days following our visit, my mother carried on as usual, but it was clear from her face that she was obsessed with purpose. She seemed to be working up a plan.

A few days later, she took me to see a distant relative who was a lawyer and asked him to take on our case against the Automobile Club. I had to miss some morning classes in order to go with her to get various official forms and seals. For some reason, I felt certain that my mother would win.

Approximately a month after our meeting with Mr. Wright, she was surprised to receive a telephone call from Mr. Comanus. He said he wanted to come see her regarding an important matter. She fixed a time with him for the following day at five o’ clock. We all waited for him, my mother, Said, Saleha and I. Even Mahmud put on his best clothes and waited with us in the sitting room. At the appointed hour, the doorbell rang.

Over the course of just a few years, the king of Egypt went from being a hardworking and upright young man — his subjects’ greatest hope for a national renaissance — to a reckless and lazy man who lived for pleasure, carousing all night and sleeping all day. He spent his nights gambling at the Automobile Club or enjoying himself at the Auberge des Pyramides nightclub. He would summon dancers and chanteuses over to his table and then choose one of them to take back to the palace. As part of his obsession with sex, the king converted a chamber in the palace basement into a cinema for blue movies, imported just for him. He lived a wild, youthful whirl of relationships with women of all sorts — daughters of the aristocracy, wives of high-ranking government officials, dancers and actresses — his sexual hunger insatiable. These feverish, unfettered trysts often led to resounding scandals and sometimes even to diplomatic crises, as happened following His Majesty’s involvement with the wife of the French military attaché. The soldiers of the royal guard took meticulous precautions to prevent the king from being photographed in compromising situations, often arresting the paparazzi, smashing their cameras and even roughing them up to make them hand over any film rolls they might be hiding on their persons. In spite of all these measures, the king’s outrageous behavior left behind a foul odor in Egypt and abroad, particularly after Her Majesty the queen demanded a divorce, confirming to the population that all the rumors of the king’s depravity were true. Newspapers around the world discovered that the king’s antics were good for sales, for their readers thrilled to the adventures of an excitable Middle Eastern potentate whose life seemed a modern retelling of stories from the wondrous and captivating Arabian Nights. The question that cropped up time and time again, and that the Western ambassadors were at such a loss to answer, was how the young king had managed, in such a short time, to become a slave to his own desires.

It might be that he had come to the throne too young and inexperienced and still at school. Perhaps, some in his entourage encouraged his depravity because it made him easier to control. It might have been his way of forgetting how his world had been turned upside down when, after his father’s death, his mother, giving not a whit for convention or appearances, went through men like water. He had caught her one night, in flagrante delicto, with the comptroller of the royal household. Or perhaps it was the accident: some years before, his royal car had crashed into one carrying some British soldiers. For two whole days the king lay in a coma. A renowned British surgeon, flown in from London, carried out three operations and, to everyone’s surprise, managed to save his life. But it was said that the accident had an effect on the king’s sexual stamina and that thereafter he could not contain himself long enough to satisfy his partner. So it might be that time spent in the company of so many beautiful women in public places was an attempt to affirm for himself and the public that his virility was undiminished.