The divorce took place, but entailed considerable material loss with the settlement and expenses and prompted the young man to take a stand toward marriage that he would maintain for the rest of his life. He returned to his handsome room on the second floor of the mansion on Khayrat Square and devoted his energies to work and diverse reading. He, his sister Nadira, and his brother Mahir were similar in temperament, and the two brothers joined the Free Officers Movement at the appropriate time. When the July Revolution came, they found themselves in the second rank. Mahmud Bey had died by this point and they were able to save their inheritance from the grasp of the agricultural reforms. Abduh was appointed to a leading post in the army’s engineering branch and, after the Setback, was entrusted with charge of a metal company as a reward for his continued loyalty to Abdel Nasser. Though he was deeply affected by the defeat of June 5, he was among those who saw the loss of land as insignificant in comparison to the country’s psychological victory in preserving the leadership of Abdel Nasser and the socialist regime. He naturally regretted his brother Mahir’s dismissal for allegiance to Abd al-Hakim Amer, just as he had previously regretted his older brother Hakim’s pensioning off, but he could always find comfort in his mantra: “The country must come first.”
He became dispensable in the time of President Sadat, so retired to his house and land. With the infitah policy he set up an engineering office with some of his colleagues and became excessively rich. He never left the mansion where he was born, nor the characteristics that had destined him for solitude. He continued to live simply despite his wealth, convinced he was amassing his money for others.
Adnan Ahmad Ata al-Murakibi
He was born and grew up in the Murakibi family mansion on Khayrat Square and learned the principles of an urbane upbringing and piety in the arms of luxury. Despite growing up with a peaceable, gentle-hearted father and a hanem mother of great dignity and morals (Fawziya Hanem, the sister of Nazli), he resembled his tyrant uncle Mahmud Bey most of all with his obstinacy and love of power. Of his generation he was the most loving to his other relatives — Amr, Surur, and Rashwana — and the most attached to the old quarter. From the beginning, he rebelled inwardly against his tyrant uncle, who imposed authority over the mansion, including his brother Ahmad’s family. He had barely reached adolescence before he let it be known that he found his uncle’s guardianship and monopoly on managing the land as if it was his exclusive property loathsome. He asked his mother the reason behind it but she just said, “Your father is content with things this way.”
So he turned to his father and argued about it until he ruined his father’s repose.
“The situation is a disgrace!” he said plainly.
He carried on until he had wrenched his father from his paradise. Events came to pass and the quarrel that would divide the respectable family into two hostile factions began; brother disowned brother, sister disowned sister, and cousin disowned cousin. Adnan challenged his uncle, who spat in his face, and exchanged blows with Hasan in the mansion’s garden. A black cloud settled over the family and continued to obscure light and warmth until Ahmad Bey’s death. Ahmad Bey assumed management of his land, knowing nothing of what it entailed. Losses inevitably ensued, until Adnan completed his agricultural studies and rushed to Beni Suef to take over the work from his father and save him from ruin.
In contrast to his brothers and cousins, Adnan was enamored of country girls. He fell in love with a thirty-five-year-old widow when he was not yet thirty himself and announced his wish to marry her, with no regard for his mother’s anxiety. He fulfilled his wish, brought Sitt Tahani to visit the mansion, and then took her home to the farm. She gave birth to Fu’ad and Faruq then stopped having children. Whenever she grew tired of the countryside she would travel to Cairo and make life difficult for Fawziya Hanem. When the July Revolution came, Adnan — for various reasons — was the only one to whom the agriculture reform laws applied. Like his father and uncle, he pledged allegiance to the Crown and hated the revolution, though he did not say or do anything that might risk offense. Fu’ad became an excellent farmer like his father and assisted him but Faruq was a failure at school and got involved in countryside crimes until he was shot one day leaving the mosque after Friday prayers. Adnan was delighted at the Tripartite Aggression but his joy relapsed. He delighted even more on June 5, and his happiness became complete in September 1970. When Sadat assumed power his sense of loyalty to a leader returned. His heart rejoiced at Sadat’s victory on October 6 and at the peace. As for the infitah policy, he considered it a gate into paradise. He farmed sheep, chickens, and eggs and made huge illusory profits. He was still not satisfied, however, so he joined the Watani Party and was elected to the People’s Assembly.
Aziz Yazid al-Misri
He was born and grew up on the first floor of the house in al-Ghuriya in the shadow of Bab al-Mutawalli, the first child of Yazid al-Misri and Farga al-Sayyad. The couple produced two sons and four daughters but the daughters all died in the cradle, leaving only Aziz and Dawud. The boys enjoyed good health and grew up promising strength alongside their good looks and distinct features. They took as their playground the area between the gate and the paper supplier where their father was treasurer, on a road in Gamaliya that brimmed with people, animals, and handcarts and was surrounded by mosques and minarets. The French invasion came and went before the brothers were fully conscious, and so Napoleon Bonaparte passed them by as a radish or doum palm seller might. When Aziz was old enough, Yazid al-Misri said in his Alexandrian accent, “It’s time for Qur’an school.”
“No. Send him to my mother at the market,” Farga al-Sayyad protested.
“It was learning to read and write that got me my job at the paper supplier,” Yazid replied.
Farga believed in the market from which she came but could not change his mind. At the Shurbini Coffee Shop, Shaykh al-Qalyubi praised his decision.
“Excellent decision! Qur’an school then al-Azhar,” he said.
The third friend, Ata al-Murakibi, sought refuge in silence. Ata al-Murakibi lived on the second floor of the house in al-Ghuriya with his wife, Sakina Gal‘ad al-Mughawiri, and newborn daughter, Ni‘ma. The three men had got to know one another at Ata al-Murakibi’s shop in al-Salihiya and began meeting at the Shurbini Coffee Shop in Darb al-Ahmar to drink ginger tea and smoke hashish. Shaykh al-Qalyubi was a teacher at al-Azhar and invited the other two for dinner at his house in Suq al-Zalat several times. They saw his young son, Mu‘awiya, playing between the well and stove. “Will you send him to al-Azhar after Qur’an school?” asked Ata al-Murakibi.
“God does as he wishes,” said Yazid.
However, in matters of religion Yazid was, like his friend Ata, content with performing the prescribed duties and had no aspirations beyond that. Aziz began to attend Qur’an school and was soon joined by Dawud. They memorized parts of the Qur’an and learned the principles of reading, writing, and arithmetic. During this time, Dawud fell into the snare of the education program while Aziz was spared by a miracle for which he thanked God all his life. Dawud’s life followed its course; meanwhile, when Aziz was old enough to work, Shaykh al-Qalyubi took steps on his behalf at the office of religious endowments and he was appointed watchman over Bayn al-Qasrayn’s public fountain. He dressed in a gallabiya, pantofles, and a cotton cloak in summer, or a woolen one in winter, but swapped his turban for a tarboosh and was jokingly referred to around the quarter as Aziz Effendi, a name that stuck for life. It was settled that he would receive a millieme for every good turn. “God has granted you an important position,” Yazid said to him.