Seeds of Wrath

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Matthias Rathmer




Seeds



of



Wrath




Egypt between



revolt and reality




Translated into English by



Deborah Langton






Matthias Rathmer has lived and worked in Cairo for many years. His novels and other writings are available in bookstores, all well-known international online bookshops or at www.epubli.de.





I’ve had these thoughts so often. I’ve dismissed them so often. Is it right to be open about what a country and its people can show you? Can you really believe what you see and hear? Yes, it

is

 right. And yes, you can. And must.



My thanks to my wonderful wife. She proofed the German version with such patience and created a remarkable cover illustration which captures the book to perfection. And she’s been at my side through thick and thin. Thank you for our extraordinary life together.



And thank you to everyone else involved for the ideas and the prompts, intended or not. Apart from a bit of poetic licence, easily spotted, everything did happen as I’ve described it. It was as fun as it was mad.




Copyright © 2016 Matthias Rathmer



Cover illustration: Stephanie Rathmer, acrylic on canvas



Translation ©: Deborah Langton, München



Published by: epubli GmbH, Berlin



www.epubli.de



ISBN






‘Rebellions usually fail, otherwise they’d be revolutions. But a failed rebellion leaves its mark on history, creates an imprint which partially disappears only to reappear later, so it does change the world.’




(Johannes Agnoli)






Darek, my dearest friend! We miss you so much. You were magnificent. You were the truth. Life, and life alone, wanted this. Obeying life won’t work. You’ll stay in our memories forever. You are the best.












Preface





to the English translation











Oh, dear! A couple of weeks after the publication of the German edition of this collection of short stories, I had a visitor. A representative of the Egyptian Ministry of the Interior, or so he made himself out to be, needed clarification. While his escort waited at the garden gate in best bouncer pose, we sat together on the terrace in an almost companionable atmosphere, drank tea and water and chatted through one of the short stories.



The gentleman, who had clearly benefited from a high level European style of education, wanted to know whether I was in possession of certain documents that had come from the Ministry of Education. If that were the case, which it wasn’t, I replied, I certainly wouldn’t pass any such documents on and, more than anything, wouldn’t reveal who’d given them to me, something the visitor was now pressing for. For a while we talked about protection of one’s sources. That didn’t help. For understandable reasons, our opinions remained different.



Without a doubt, he’d read this particular short story. But he hadn’t got it. The content hadn’t required any statistical analysis of the Egyptian education system nor of planned or past reforms. I had simply put down on paper the reality, a deplorable state of affairs, and had let everyone battling with the mismanagement have a chance to speak. It needed no more than that. It had all been said.



Well now, he said at the end of our conversation of barely an hour. He’d only been sent to recover the documents, he told me. The fact that they were not there, at least not with me, meant everything was now clear. I’d have liked to have had a much longer conversation with him, heard more about him and his department over a beer or two. But he politely turned down my invitation. Id had all been said for him, too.



Like I said, the chap was very friendly and very nice. He was educated. He claimed to have read only this one story in the collection. Neither could he say whether colleagues were scrutinising any of the others. So it looked like farewell. Here’s why. Because he knew that I knew how much of a fool he took me for, it was useless to try and say anything further.



It may be that my visitor had actually been asked to do rather more, like finding out if I was a terrorist, an enemy of the state or a just some pathetic hack who needed to be shown his bounds. And I’d probably been able to make it clear to him that none of these applied. Here’s why. All I’d done was observe. Like I did anywhere else.



In the run-up to publication of the German edition I was asked repeatedly if I had any concerns about the possible consequences with the Egyptian authorities. Nearest and dearest saw me banged up ready for deportation at best. What I had written might stir the Egyptians to displeasure, annoyance or wrath, even. And that’s in spite of my seeing and experiencing it all at first hand in their country.



I remain firm in my conviction. We shouldn’t take ourselves too seriously. If a bit of writing like this can help things be seen from a different perspective and be talked through, then it’s achieved a lot. Anyone who cannot, or will not, have this type of discussion, won’t make any difference.



Just to make that clear again. What these short stories and essays relate has already taken place. It’s just reality. At any rate, the reality I saw on these occasions. Where necessary, in order to protect individual rights, I have introduced a few subtleties. If we’re talking fantasy, dreams and imagination, then these are easily recognisable as such. If you’re used to reading with understanding, that is. Quite apart from the fact I do mean well for this country and its people. Truly.



The tale of the belly-dancer came about through several interviews carried out with various authentic characters in the field. Their personal experiences were both risqué and informative. And the two Salafists from Maadi, I really did meet them. Thank God I’ve never heard anything of them since. The desert trip happened exactly as I described it and the motor madness in this country continues at top speed. Even the proceedings inside the Mugamma went exactly as I’ve written. Superhub Jussuf was allowed to carry on his trade as before. And how important President Sisi is for Egypt, well, that seems pretty close to the reality. He hasn’t made any complaints so far, anyway.



Some have lamented the exposure, both large and small-scale, that my writing has given to Egyptians and their society in the piece entitled ‘It’s good to know’. A few readers have seen a degree of malice alongside the fond humour and all the madness. Well, OK. Everyone is entitled to an opinion. But I’ve left it all the same in the translated version. I’m telling you. Anyone who goes around being provocative like the Egyptians do, whether deliberately or not, shouldn’t be surprised at my occasional, admittedly sardonic, remarks.



And finally... To be able to observe, to be permitted to observe. That has been a joy, a gift and a necessity. It was enjoyable, challenging and not always that easy. Not simply to close your eyes to it. At a time like this when, above all in Arabic Muslim lands, any critical voices among journalists and authors are being muzzled, subjected to confused accusations and violence on the part of their supposed rulers, the debate about truthfulness is needed more than ever. Anyone who can’t do both is a problem.




German and English are different. Wow! You don’t say! But it needs mentioning. Germans have failings which they can do something about. But when it comes to the shortcomings of their language when translating it into English, well, that’s not their fault. The language could all too easily end up with a semantic and morphological clumsiness. Overcoming this was the task of the translator.



Deborah! You’ve done a great job. With huge commitment, professionalism and insight you’ve made it possible to bring these tales from another country to a significantly wider audience. I’m really grateful to have had the chance to do this, as well as for our teamwork. Here’s to the next time!



Nick! I’ve given you a lot of hassle! I’m sorry. I can’t imagine anyone more relaxed and composed for putting the final gloss on future projects. You’re a fantastic polisher! If you’re up for it – here’s to the next time, too!












1














Seeds of wrath



















Oh, Egypt! What’s to become of you? Your people are proud but their country has achieved little. Your people like to be governed but only until hunger, dissatisfaction and frustration with the future drive them out onto the streets again. And meantime the rich have got richer and the poor have got poorer. One thing’s indisputable. There’s more than one time-bomb’s ticking away along the Nile. Weapons are cocked. Have been for years. Deaths are totted up here like profits anywhere else. Anyone whose faith is different is hunted down. Anyone whose thinking is different is an enemy of the state. Society is deeply divided and reconciliation is not on the radar.



It’s true the fight with the demons has gone a bit quiet. But the conflict remains unresolved. Something else is indisputable: another storm will break. Because sooner or later, however patient and self-assured Egyptians are, however resilient their homeland – its ruler and his elite are again on course to test to breaking point that typically Egyptian desire for hope. Then it fizzes over again, that typically Egyptian boundless energy which will lead straight to the next outburst of fury. But hang on. Let’s look at this in the right order.

 




First up, the people do have other characteristics which are both important and positive. There’s a primeval quality that ought to make us feel they really can do peace and justice.



The fact that they can’t is for different reasons. The vast majority of Egyptians really are exceptionally peace-loving modern people. Yes, really. In many places they are by nature so friendly that you’ll struggle shamefully with their openness. They’ll often demonstrate an admirable, spontaneous readiness to help, especially towards foreigners. Their equanimity, their Mediterranean charm and their hospitality could really teach Europeans, especially we rule-loving Germans, more than just a thing or two about more life-enhancing qualities than the usual mental and spiritual toil of western culture. OK. Not always. But mostly. And that’s the same everywhere.




Most Egyptians have the usual human shortcomings, just like everyone else on the planet. Eliminating these is as demanding as it is challenging and so the problem isn’t addressed. They, too, strive to satisfy the basic human needs of security, safety and prosperity like people do in every corner of this crazy world. You could say they take a quantitative approach, so with a huge scale retreat into their own private lives. And, amazingly, they also take a qualitative approach, in the knowledge that it’s better to live with disappointments than with shattered illusions. Millions of Egyptians, male and female, oldsters or children, persist in the assurance, perhaps closely associated with their faith, that everything comes to he who waits. Sooner or later. Millions of people just want a quiet life.



But despite everything that goes on, life here could be good, especially for foreigners with no money worries, were it not for one particular national characteristic kept hidden in everyday encounters. Warm and open-hearted as they are wherever they meet you, they do also have in essence a particular state of mind found in many parts of the land. It’s often concealed, kept in check. Woe betide you if you trigger it. Their wrath. Once stirred, never mind who or what by, this trait will make its presence felt with a speed the average European can’t handle. Anger usually comes first, annoyance, indignation or an insult. That’s when the soul starts to seethe and the veins pulse. One wrong word can suffice for an outburst of emotion in which all sense of balance is lost. And if an Egyptian’s sense of honour is constantly disregarded and, with it, his sense of justice, then any perspective he ever had on personal fulfilment is lost; the wrath of one individual morphs into the uncontrolled energy of the masses, once so feared by every pharaoh.




Those ‘Days of Wrath’ have had a long-lasting impact on Egypt. The people had put up with it for long enough. They’d lived under the regime of President Hosni Mubarak for thirty years before they streamed onto the streets in January and February 2011, inspired by the Jasmine Revolution in Tunisia. They stayed out on the streets and squares for well over two weeks, protesting about Mubarak’s authoritarian rule with its characteristic security machine, about not having any say, about the refusal to reform, abuse of office and corruption in the state, the economy and the civil service.



Today, a few years on from the national unrest and the rebellion (nothing more than this) , still pitifully referred to by many Egyptians as the ‘Revolution’, there is another autocrat ruling the land, as much of a dictator and despot as ex-president Mubarak and his government were. The first free elections in the country after his removal were won by the Muslim Brotherhood. They were the only viable opposition party who could organise themselves fast enough. Their victory, and what they actually wanted and how they went about it, brought the Egyptians a further variation of that embittered rage which typifies the country to this very day.



First of all they were upset with the covert rulers, more than anything the military, a force in society without whose goodwill and agreement nobody in the Nile can expect to govern. Indignation came next, worry about the threat of a distinctly conservative Islamisation, anger about questionable political decisions, outrage at the lamentable level of competence. The Muslim Brotherhood had never been liked. Now they were leading Egypt straight to disaster. Insolvency and economic collapse threatened. Every month the sense of wrath increased, so much so that a military coup put an end to the spectre of the Muslim Brotherhood. General Sisi removed Morsi.




Since then Muslim Brothers have been, and still are, severely under attack, forced underground again, declared a terrorist organisation, their leaders and followers alike mercilessly hunted down, arrested or killed. The consequences are all too clear. Wrath has again been stirred; this time amongst the suppressed and to such an extent that its response to the violence wrought against it cannot be more aggressive and brutal. They bomb and kill in fury. Their wrath has turned to loathing. Hardly a week passes without reports of deadly soldiers, police or members of government murdered in response to the murder and terror directed at the Muslim Brothers. Sow the seeds of wrath and wrath is what you’ll get. Suppression triggers brutality. And although all involved claim to be various shades of practising Muslim, the lives of others cease to be sacred because retaliation defines all behaviours.



On top of that, as if this merciless domestic hostility between the powerful and the powerless is not already burden enough, there are quite a few others knocking about the place – the sympathisers and the cosmopolitan – who are also defined by violence and cannot tolerate those around them. Islamists, Salafists, Jihadists, Extremists, Terrorists, and Fundamentalists – if representatives of these groups were to confront one another out in the country’s deserts, they themselves wouldn’t know who, or what, the others were.



There is one particularly difficult struggle going on. In the north of the Sinai Peninsula the Egyptian army is fighting bravely and unsuccessfully against an offshoot of the so-called ‘Islamic State’. Egypt is part of the Arab front opposing the slaughter and barbaric deeds of this self-styled theocracy. The bestial acts of terror in Paris in November 2015 were condemned in the strongest possible terms by president Sisi. And in doing so, he also asked for better help in his fight, and more than anything more respect for it, against the people who were threatening his country, his people and every single stabilising achievement, however small, in the process of rebuilding.



Something often gets forgotten. Without ever wanting to, Egypt has become part of that gateway to hell created some years ago by the irresponsible and desperate foreign policy of the west in the Near and Middle East.



Sisi and the army are fighting a tough, relentless battle on several fronts against the murdering lunacy of so-called ‘Islamic State’, against the terrorist threats coming from Libya and against the radical Muslim Brothers. No voices are raised against this stance, nobody is there who remembers that this level of terrorism cannot be dealt with militarily. Quite the opposite. The President has prepared the population for the fact that this could be a long fight. The fact that his approach also includes the elimination of all oppositional forces for the maintenance and development of his own power in the country, does not really seem to bother anyone. Because the media, especially the elements he’s not so fond of, have long been switched off by the necessary laws, only very few people still know how much success there has been in the violent struggle is. And how little.




Any foreigner planning to stay in this country any longer than the duration of a normal holiday must at the very least understand the Egyptian people, what is happening in their country in these turbulent times, what makes them tick and what stirs them up. Given that the government and its opponents are fighting it out to the last breath, millions of Egyptians are living extraordinarily calmly with terror and with death. With good reason. And it’s a tradition, anyway.



So, as already said, they’re friendly people, outgoing and enquiring. They’re mostly hard-working, excitable and those who live in the city are loud and lively, apparently quite unable to bear a silence. They bother to make their own luck, given the affluence of the west before them, the poverty of their own continent behind. It would be good to get a handle on their pace of life, their wishes and their concerns. It’s like all over the world. Egyptians are fighting for their personal luck like anybody else.




But at the end of a day spent in the thick of their ways of doing and being, there’s still always something that can’t quite be grasped. That feel-good sense of wonder, that exquisite feeling of delight that travellers are hooked on gradually slips into a sense of disappointment. By the end of the week the longing for enchantment has been reined in. The mind struggles with its loss and the spirit with incomprehension as to whether you can have a decent life in a system not fit for purpose.



Next come feelings of confusion and bewilderment. Then, by the end of the month, the questions are crowding in about the point of trying to get along. That’s when the realisation kicks in; how big a show it all is and how limited the awareness. And then a whole year’s gone by and you’re still wondering how on earth people can live in this non-society with a perception which, at best, recognises the moment, and in a lethargy which stems from a whole society that is alienated because one or two of the lead guard want it that way.



But then again, it’s what the people of Egypt are, and the way they are, that can actually be so stimulating and exciting; their lightness of being and their uncomplicated satisfaction. And yet because millions try, quite logically, to flee the national dilemma by withdrawing into their private life with its healing qualities of peace and comfort, the whole country remains unreconciled with itself and a national catastrophe has been evolving during the course of which people carry on living as a matter of routine. Never mind whether it’s reasonable.



The rebellion of the Arab Spring, expected to bring so much to so many, has actually taken Egypt a step backwards. The Mubarak regime was to give way and, with it, all the social injustice, the nepotism and corruption. Then came a historic experiment with the Morsi government, the desire for a modern state marked out by democracy. A lamentable failure. Now there’s another ex-General in power, reacting to the insanity of violent acts of terrorism with equal military toughness and brutality. With the middle of 2016 violence has decreased. But! How long will it take?



Egyptians have been living with this dual between evils for more than two years. The country is smeared with traces of blood, branded with death and terror. Violence and counter-violence are routine. The Muslim Brotherhood and the government hate one another. Mutual demonisation. Once there’s a layer of contempt, forgive and forget no longer works. Whether in secret and silence or publicly and passionately. Millions are celebrating a President who shows no mercy. Millions are suffering under this dictatorship. And even more simply want some peace, and that’s in spite of all the crises, in spite of the desperately spiralling cost of even the simplest of lifestyles, something which makes every new day a colossal challenge.



And there’s more. The vast majority of Egyptians are peace-loving people. They’re always keen to help, are mostly friendly, often interested in everything and will always take the trouble. If one or two of them don’t quite manage the eagerness expected of them, and if the urban types of Cairo, Alexandria, Suez, Luxor and Assuan are on a shorter fuse than those in the country, and are more grasping and pushy, then given the millions competing with all the challenges, it’s hardly surprising.



If they can do it or not. Egyptians love order more than anything. They like to know that things are regulated. Going back to Ancient Egypt, the people feared nothing more than the loss of their cosmic force due to a weak Pharaoh and believed this would cause them to slide into chaos. History repeats itself and not only in another ‘revolution’ that consumes its children.



In between the Old Kingdom, the building of the Pyramids, the Middle Kingdom, the heyday of art and literature, the New Kingdom, the era of the master builders, and the later period when the Persians reigned supreme over Egypt, there always came a period of anarchy, of disorder and confusion during which the country would be divided or ruled over by outsiders. Scholars describe these as interim periods. And Egypt is living through one such period now. That’s to say. The problems of now are homemade and typical for human beings in our century.

 




The fundamental causes of the conflict in Egyptian society are absolutely not, as the west all too hastily and insensitively decrees, about Islam or ethnic disputes. The bitter battle is motivated entirely by worldly matters. With Sisi’s blessing and protection, a few elite groups in a different guise are today defending their economic and political positions of power. They’re quite unscrupulously lining their own pockets, helping themselves to huge portions of the country’s resource only then to squander it, and blocking any development towards a modern society. They obstruct the building of any useful infrastructure and grossly neglect all education and vocational training for the younger generation. It was no different under president Mubarak. And those who were eventually democratically elected would have treated the country in exactly the same way had they not been toppled by the military.



In the naïve expectations of the west, the Muslim Brotherhood were, on account of this perceived success, almost feted and viewed as the harbinger of a democratic development. They, of all people, were romantically idealised as bearers of the salvation of western values of freedom and democracy. What was forgotten was the reality of their special parts of history, the waves of violence and the bloody assassination attempts, their closeness to well-known terrorist organisations in the region and their readiness to break any law, without hesitation, to serve their own interests.



When, after decades spent underground as an illegal organisation, they replaced the President with Mohammed Morsi after their 2012 election win, they tried everything, and did so in a totally undemocratic way, to ensure the power they had won was exercised by them alone and without challenge. Only about one third of Egyptians had voted to bring them to power. And a dialogue with those who had not voted for them did not take place. They made a high-speed assault on the constitution so as to establish their vision of an Islamic Egypt. Their inadequacy and incompetence became increasingly apparent. Once the mass protests started, they clung greedily and immovably to their office and their ideology.



Beyond dispute is this. Sisi’s military coup brought a premature and unlawful end to initial training in democracy. Now the Egyptians are actually living under a dictatorship again, although they themselves like to see it rather differently given their political inexperience. But the violence emerging from the Muslim Brothers and the terrorist brigades with whom they are friends, is revealing yet more about them. Anyone who, in wrathful brutality and unscrupulous greed blows up and murders his political opponents, loses every right to a fair debate. Their justification for attacking ‘only’ state representatives and institutions is in itself a tacky farce. Even soldiers have families, even judges are human. The terror wrought by the Muslim Brothers shows uniquely how little a conservative form of Islam under brand Morsi would have been able to stand democracy.



All of a sudden many Egyptians were shocked at what they themselves had brought about. Because they had not taken part in the voting, they were now supposed to live under the strict rules of a conservative form of Islam. Just as the protests grew daily, so the wrath of the masses was stirred once more. Many are still enthused that it was Sisi and his army who drove out Morsi and his followers. The former General became saviour of the whole nation.



That Sisi doesn’t want real democracy either and reacts to violence with violence is viewed by most Egyptians as a necessary evil. He has created order. And that includes all those unprepared to bend. Now, because Muslim Brothers are, as far as is possible, switched off, he goes in pursuit of the secular opposition the moment they dare criticise his regime. In the name of a global security, of the new hard line, all is allowed. Many of the activists of old who once took the streets by storm are still mysteriously vanishing. Then they turn up again weeks later after interrogation, torture and threat. Very few people have any concerns about this. Egypt has become the torture capital, quietly, secretly, and yet so brutishly. Most Egyptians can live with that. It’s called nameless cowardice in civil affairs.



In the weeks and months before 25 January 2016, state repression of liberals, or groups with different thinking, had attained a degree of severity and intransigence that was unknown even in