wouldn't interest you. Even if I wanted to, I'm not courageous enough to reveal it in my wife’s presence'.
To his surprise, Yasin found he was reciting to himself a verse from the medieval poet al-Sharif al-Radi:
Yasin asked Fahmy in turn, 'What news do you mean?'
Fahmy replied excitedly, 'Amazing news is spreading among the students. Today it was all we talked about. A delegation or 'wafd' composed of the nationalist leaders Sa'd Zaghlul Pasha, Abd al-Aziz Fahmy Bey, and Ali Sha'rawi Pasha went to the British Residency in Cairo yesterday and met with the High Commissioner, requesting that the British protectorate over Egypt be lifted and independence declared'.
Yasin raised his eyebrows to show his interest. A look of astonished doubt appeared in his eyes. The name of Sa'd Zaghlul was not new to him, but there was little he could attach to it except some obscure memories connected with incidents he had forgotten long ago. They had made no appreciable impact on him emotionally, for he paid slight attention to public affairs. He was hearing about the other men for the first time. But the strangeness of their names was nothing compared with their strange action, if what Fahmy had said was true. How could anyone think of requesting independence for Egypt from the English immediately after their victory over the Germans and the Ottoman Empire? He asked his brother, 'What do you know about them?'
With the resentment of a person who wished these men were members of the National Party, Fahmy replied, 'Sa'd Zaghlul is Vice President of the Legislative Assembly and Abd al-Aziz Fahmy and Ali Sha'rawi are members of it. The truth is, I don't know anything else about the last two. As for Sa'd, I don't see anything wrong with him, based on what many of my fellow students who are nationalists tell me. They disagree about him a lot. Some of them think he has sold out totally to the English. Others acknowledge his outstanding qualities that make him worthy of being ranked with the men of the National Party. In any case, the step he took with his two colleagues was a magnificent act, and he’s said to have been the instigator. He may be the only one left who could have done something like that, since the prominent members of the National Party have been banished, including their leader, Muhammad Farid'.
Yasin tried to appear serious so his brother would not think he was making fun of his enthusiasm. As though wondering aloud, he repeated the words: 'Requesting that the British protectorate over Egypt be lifted and independence declared…'
We also heard that they requested permission to travel to London to lobby for Egyptian independence. For that reason they met with Sir Reginald Wingate, the British High Commissioner for Egypt'.
Yasin could no longer conceal his anxiety. His features revealed it, and he asked in a slightly louder voice, 'Independence!.. Do you really mean it?… What do you mean?'
Fahmy replied nervously, 'I mean the expulsion of the English from Egypt: what Mustafa Kamil called an 'evacuation' when he advocated it'.
What a hope! Yasin was not naturally inclined to seek out conversations about politics, but he would accept Fahmy’s invitation in order to avoid upsetting his brother and to amuse himself with this novel form of entertainment. His interest in politics was aroused occasionally, but never to the point of enthusiasm. He may have shared his brother’s hopes in a calm, passive way, but he had never demonstrated much interest in public affairs at any time in his life. His only goal was enjoyment of the good things in life and its pleasures. For this reason, he found it difficult to take Fahmy’s statements seriously. He questioned his brother again: 'Does this fall within the realm of possibility?'
Fahmy replied with a combination of enthusiasm and censure: 'So long as there’s life there’s hope, brother'.
This sentence, like the others before it, prompted Yasin’s sarcasm, but pretending to be in earnest, he asked his brother, 'How can we expel them?'
Fahmy thought for a moment and then said with a frown, 'That’s why Sa'd and his colleagues asked permission to journey to London'.
The mother had been following their conversation with interest. She was concentrating her full attention on it to try to understand as much as she possibly could. She always did whenever the conversation turned to public affairs remote from domestic chatter. These matters intrigued her, and she claimed to be able to understand them. She did not hesitate to participate in such a discussion, if the opportunity arose, and was oblivious to the scorn mixed with affection that her opinions often provoked. Nothing could daunt her or prevent her from taking an interest in these significant matters, which she appeared to follow for the same reasons she felt compelled to comment on Kamal’s lessons in religious studies or to debate what he related to her about geography and history in the light of her religious and folkloric information. Because of her serious attention, she had acquired some knowledge of Mustafa Kamil, Muhammad Farid, and 'Our Exiled Effendi,' the Khedive Abbas II. Her love for those men was doubled by their devotion to the cause of the Muslim caliphate, making them seem in her eyes, which were those of a person who judged men by their religious stature, almost like the saints of whom she was so fond. Thus when Fahmy mentioned that Sa'd and his colleagues were asking permission to travel to London, she suddenly asked, 'Where in God’s world is this London?'
Kamal answered her immediately in the singsong voice pupils use to recite their lessons: 'London is the capital of Great Britain. Paris is the capital of France. The Cape’s capital is the Cape…' Then he leaned over to whisper in her ear, 'London is in the land of the English'.
His mother was overcome by astonishment and asked Fahmy, 'They're going to the land of the English to ask them to get out of Egypt? This is in very bad taste. How could you visit me in my house if you're wanting to throw me out of yours?'
Her interruption annoyed the young man. He gave her a look that was smiling and critical at the same time, but she thought she would be able to convince him. So she added, 'How can they ask them to leave our lands after they have been here all this long period. When we were born and you as well, they were already in our country. Is it humane for us to oppose them after this time we've spent living together as neighbors and to tell them bluntly, and in their country at that, to get out?'
Fahmy smiled in despair. Yasin guffawed, but Zaynab said seriously, 'Where do they get the nerve to tell them that in their own country? Suppose the English kill them there. Who would know what happened to them? Haven't their soldiers made walking in streets of Cairo far from home hazardous and uncertain? So what will happen to someone who storms into their country?'
Yasin wished he could encourage the two women to keep saying these naive things in order to satisfy his thirst for fun, but he noticed Fahmy’s annoyance and was apprehensive about making him angry. He turned toward his brother to continue their interrupted conversation: 'They both have a point, although they might have expressed it more clearly. Tell me, brother, what can Sa'd do against a nation that now considers itself the unrivaled mistress of the world?'
The mother nodded her head in agreement, as though he had been addressing her. She stated: 'The revolutionary leader Urabi Pasha was one of the greatest men and one of the most courageous. Sa'd and the others are nothing compared with him. He was in the cavalry, a fighting man. What did he get from the English, boys? They imprisoned him and then exiled him to a land on the other side of the world'.
Fahmy could not keep himself from entreating her crossly, 'Mother!.. Won't you let us talk?'
She smiled in embarrassment, for she was anxious not to anger him. She changed her zealous tone, as though announcing by this change of tone a total shift of her opinion, and said gently and apologetically, 'Sir, everyone who tries hard deserves some reward. So let them go there in God’s safekeeping. Perhaps they'll win the sympathy of the great queen…'
Without thinking about what he was doing, the young man asked her, 'Which queen do you mean?'
'Queen Victoria, my son. Isn't that her name?… I often heard my father talk about her. She’s the one who ordered Urabi banished, although according to what was said she admired his courage'.
Yasin commented sarcastically, 'If she banished the cavalry knight Urabi, she’s even more liable to banish that old man Sa'd'.