Naguib Mahfouz - Before the Throne

HORUS HAILED, “Ahmad Urabi!”

A tall, corpulent man of dignified mien came in and stood before the throne.

Osiris invited him to speak.

“I memorized the Qur’an as a child in my village in al-Sharqiya,” Ahmad Urabi replied, “and enrolled in the military academy at the age of fourteen. I attained the rank of Qaimqam, the first Egyptian to reach that level. The higher grades were reserved for those of Circassian origins — the Egyptians were scorned in their own country. I persuaded some of my colleagues to demand the dismissal of the minister of war, a prejudiced Circassian — and when we were arrested, the patriotic troops rose up to demand our release. I felt the people’s sense of debasement, and moved with the army to Abdin Palace to insist on the king’s abdication and the creation of a popular assembly.

“The khedive told me, ‘I inherited this country as my personal fief, and who are you but slaves of our beneficence?’ In reply I told him, ‘God created us all free, not as possessions or real estate. By the God but for whom there is no other god, we will not be passed on as inheritance nor be enslaved after this day.’

“We were victorious over the enemies of the people, and established a popular assembly and a nationalist government, when the foreign powers intervened to prevent the people from controlling their own affairs, out of fear for their interests. The khedive and some of his opportunistic followers betrayed the homeland, coming to an agreement with our English foes. Although we defended our nation with everything we had, we still were defeated. They sentenced us to exile for life, and the expropriation of our possessions.”

“But you challenged the occupant of the throne,” said Khufu, “and reproached him in ways that one does not do to kings!”

“Times change, O king, for monarchs no longer rule as the deputies of God,” Osiris told him, “but with the participation of the people.”

“Sharing power with the peasants means chaos,” rebutted Khufu.

“Rather, it’s a bold undertaking on the road to virtue,” asserted Abnum.

“The khedive and his followers were foreigners,” said Ahmad Urabi.

“The unity of Egypt was forged out of differing kinds of people,” said Menes, “who all joined together to create a nation, and who were loyal to the throne.”

“I only battled those who disdained from joining with the rest of us,” explained Ahmad Urabi, “and the proof is that my party also had members of Circassian descent.”

“Why didn’t you kill the khedive,” demanded Abnum, “and install a new royal family of commoner blood?”

“My goal was to liberate the people,” answered Urabi, “and for them to share the responsibility of rule.”

“It would have been better to kill him,” repeated Abnum. “But, in any case, you get much credit for guarding the people’s rights.”

“The situation required military leadership of exceptional genius,” said Thutmose II. “Unfortunately, you were not endowed with anything of the kind.”

“I gave everything I had,” pleaded Urabi.

“You should have fought until death alongside your troops,” scolded Ramesses II.

“And you should have eliminated all your enemies in order to throttle treason in its cradle,” added Abnum.

“You are a good-hearted man,” said Akhenaten, “whose end was the one fated for all with this virtue.”

“You launched a revolution to free the people — and gained a foreign occupation for them, instead,” concluded the Sage Ptahhotep.

“This is a son of Egypt, whose heart is full of good intentions,” said Isis. “He gave the people his limitless love and his limited ability. His foes plotted to put down his revolution — yet they could not extirpate the seed of freedom that he had planted in our good soil.”

“I consider you a light beaming in the darkness that had descended on your country,” Osiris told him. “You were punished during your lifetime and so have paid for your mistakes. Perhaps you will gain blessings in your final trial — we shall not withhold praise for the merit you have earned.”

HORUS CALLED OUT, “Mustafa Kamil!”

A slender, sweet-featured man came in, with head uncovered and feet unshod, and stood before the throne.

Osiris invited him to speak.

“I came to consciousness as a pupil during the British occupation. I hated it and resolved to combat it — this is what I felt when only a student. One day, His Honor the Khedive, Abbas Hilmi II, came to visit our school, and I greeted him with a passionately patriotic speech that found an echo in his own youth and nationalism. From that time onward we became close collaborators, and he provided me with encouragement and money to be rid of foreign control. I developed similar relations with the caliph and the Islamic League. As for my own aspiration, it was always for the freedom and independence of Egypt — which is why I changed my relations with Abbas Hilmi when he reached a modus vivendi with the enemy.

“Things were such that the people had given up hope, but I did not stint from awakening their national awareness, through word of mouth, the press, and public speaking. Likewise I advocated the nationalist cause abroad, until the liberals of Europe — especially in France — knew of it as well. And when the British carried out their great crime in Denshaway, I denounced their vicious deeds and decried the sentences that the puppet court had pronounced on the innocent people of that village. I shook the throne of the English despotism in Egypt until I forced their nation to reconsider it. Then I founded the Nationalist Party, the first political party formed in Egypt. Its program called for the withdrawal of foreign troops and a constitution within the dominion of the Ottoman State. I kept on waging this jihad both inside and outside the country, until I gave up the ghost while still quite young.”

“Didn’t the British kill you?” asked Psamtek III.

“No, they did not,” Mustafa Kamil replied.

“That is odd,” said Psamtek III. “In my time we had the Persian occupation, just as you had the English in yours. Like you, I strove to arouse patriotic awareness — and when Cambyses learned of this, he ordered my execution without hesitation. How could the British let you go unpunished?”

“The occupiers had taken total control of the country,” answered Mustafa Kamil. “They could afford to permit a certain degree of freedom that in fact they despised, but which made them look as though they respected such principles in the eyes of the world.”

“But weren’t you exposed to palpable harm?”

“The occupation concealed its hatred of me, while inciting its friends to attack me.”

“Your age granted you clemency such as I did not receive even a part of in my own day,” remarked Psamtek III. “In truth, I have never known a holy warrior as fortunate as you. You enjoyed the support of the khedive, the caliph, and the Islamic League, smiting your foes both at home and abroad without any penalty. You won glory and fame without paying a price, and were not slaughtered as I myself was. Nor were you exiled, like Ahmad Urabi.”

“Ahmad Urabi was a traitor,” spat Mustafa Kamil, “who drew foreign occupiers into the country.”

“How can you accuse the man of treason when he did not rise in rebellion or endure banishment from his homeland except to defend the right of your people! And what was the traitor but the father of your friend, aide, and loyal supporter? Yet in your testimony he had betrayed his country, like his father before him.”

“I consider him to be the foremost of those to responsible for the occupation,” sneered Mustafa Kamil.