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Authors: Parker Bilal
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fortunate places flocked here in search of freedom. Not any more. You know how many books were published in this country last year? Less than four hundred. And the movies are the same romantic trash designed to keep our minds occupied while telling us nothing. Diversions.’
‘Tell him what Safwat said,’ Rania encouraged from across the room where she was calling in their order.
Sami leaned over the coffee table and reached for his cigarettes. ‘I wrote a piece about how the courts are dominated by judges who see themselves as religious figures. They even come to court dressed like imams. Okay, that fool Sadat amended the constitution to make Sharia the basis of Egyptian law, whatever that means, but we still have a constitution, we still have, in principle, secular courts, right? Wrong. Even the Supreme Court is bowing to this madness.’
‘Sometimes I worry,’ whispered Rania, coming to sit beside him. ‘It’s like the Spanish Inquisition. They judge us for our ideas. Who gives them the right?’
‘It’s not that bad yet,’ Sami said, trying to comfort her, ‘but it’s getting serious. Even good colleagues start to look for ways around it. They don’t come right out with it, of course. They say something like, Islam is the only way to resist Western decadence.’ He threw his head back and laughed. ‘What kind of a statement is that?’
‘They are afraid,’ said Rania, ‘that if they don’t conform they will be persecuted.’
‘Persecuted by whom?’ asked Makana.
‘By society,’ Sami’s glasses glinted with defiance. ‘The point is not about whether or not I am a Muslim, but whether you have the right to call yourself a better Muslim than me.’
All of this was beginning to sound a little too familiar. ‘I met someone today,’ Makana said, setting down his glass. ‘The wife of Ridwan Hilal.’
‘You met her?’ Rania’s eyes widened. ‘How?’
‘She’s connected to a case I’m working on.’
‘Now that’s enough, habibti . He can’t talk about his work. He would have to kill you.’
They all laughed. Sami, leaning forward to scoop a handful of peanuts up from the bowl on the table, went on. ‘His wife has reason to be worried. Sheikh Waheed recently repeated his statement about Hilal being an apostate. That lot won’t be happy until he is dead or in exile.’
‘Sheikh Waheed, the television imam?’ asked Makana. ‘I remember it as a disagreement about theology.’
‘It was nothing to do with theology,’ Rania corrected him. ‘It was much more simple than that. It’s about personal jealousy.’
‘You see how we agree about everything?’ Sami grinned.
‘Ridwan Hilal applied for the post of Professor of Arabic Studies at the university,’ Rania explained. ‘He had to submit his work to a faculty board for approval. Well, two of the board recommended him for promotion, but the third was Professor Serhan, who turned down the request. The decision had to be unanimous. Nobody understood. Hilal was highly respected and clearly deserved the post. He protested the decision and the matter was referred to another seven-man committee. By then the story had gone public. The television got hold of Sheikh Waheed and decided to stir things up.’
Sheikh Waheed was a controversial imam with the following of a pop star. The media loved him for his provocative declarations. Waheed enjoyed shocking people. It made for good viewing.
‘Waheed is a government man,’ said Sami. ‘He makes them look like they are more Islamic than the fanatics. With him on their side no one can accuse them of not being religious enough.’
Rania continued the story: ‘When Waheed pronounced his verdict in his televised sermon one Friday afternoon after prayers, that was pretty much the end of it. Nobody dared go up against someone like Waheed. Not even government ministers disagree with him, and certainly not the university committee, which naturally voted to deny Hilal the post.’
‘Waheed
‘Tell him what Safwat said,’ Rania encouraged from across the room where she was calling in their order.
Sami leaned over the coffee table and reached for his cigarettes. ‘I wrote a piece about how the courts are dominated by judges who see themselves as religious figures. They even come to court dressed like imams. Okay, that fool Sadat amended the constitution to make Sharia the basis of Egyptian law, whatever that means, but we still have a constitution, we still have, in principle, secular courts, right? Wrong. Even the Supreme Court is bowing to this madness.’
‘Sometimes I worry,’ whispered Rania, coming to sit beside him. ‘It’s like the Spanish Inquisition. They judge us for our ideas. Who gives them the right?’
‘It’s not that bad yet,’ Sami said, trying to comfort her, ‘but it’s getting serious. Even good colleagues start to look for ways around it. They don’t come right out with it, of course. They say something like, Islam is the only way to resist Western decadence.’ He threw his head back and laughed. ‘What kind of a statement is that?’
‘They are afraid,’ said Rania, ‘that if they don’t conform they will be persecuted.’
‘Persecuted by whom?’ asked Makana.
‘By society,’ Sami’s glasses glinted with defiance. ‘The point is not about whether or not I am a Muslim, but whether you have the right to call yourself a better Muslim than me.’
All of this was beginning to sound a little too familiar. ‘I met someone today,’ Makana said, setting down his glass. ‘The wife of Ridwan Hilal.’
‘You met her?’ Rania’s eyes widened. ‘How?’
‘She’s connected to a case I’m working on.’
‘Now that’s enough, habibti . He can’t talk about his work. He would have to kill you.’
They all laughed. Sami, leaning forward to scoop a handful of peanuts up from the bowl on the table, went on. ‘His wife has reason to be worried. Sheikh Waheed recently repeated his statement about Hilal being an apostate. That lot won’t be happy until he is dead or in exile.’
‘Sheikh Waheed, the television imam?’ asked Makana. ‘I remember it as a disagreement about theology.’
‘It was nothing to do with theology,’ Rania corrected him. ‘It was much more simple than that. It’s about personal jealousy.’
‘You see how we agree about everything?’ Sami grinned.
‘Ridwan Hilal applied for the post of Professor of Arabic Studies at the university,’ Rania explained. ‘He had to submit his work to a faculty board for approval. Well, two of the board recommended him for promotion, but the third was Professor Serhan, who turned down the request. The decision had to be unanimous. Nobody understood. Hilal was highly respected and clearly deserved the post. He protested the decision and the matter was referred to another seven-man committee. By then the story had gone public. The television got hold of Sheikh Waheed and decided to stir things up.’
Sheikh Waheed was a controversial imam with the following of a pop star. The media loved him for his provocative declarations. Waheed enjoyed shocking people. It made for good viewing.
‘Waheed is a government man,’ said Sami. ‘He makes them look like they are more Islamic than the fanatics. With him on their side no one can accuse them of not being religious enough.’
Rania continued the story: ‘When Waheed pronounced his verdict in his televised sermon one Friday afternoon after prayers, that was pretty much the end of it. Nobody dared go up against someone like Waheed. Not even government ministers disagree with him, and certainly not the university committee, which naturally voted to deny Hilal the post.’
‘Waheed
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