The Map of Love (67 page)

And my husband of course will join none of them. The Palace and the British parties are out of the question. He dislikes al-Watani’s cleaving to the Ottomans, for he sees more and more of a divergence between the interests of Egypt and those of Turkey. The Hizb al-Ummah would have been the most natural place for him, indeed several of his friends are founding members, but other Parties will have it that the interests of the Ummah’s members — being among the more wealthy Notables and Civil Servants — are close to those of the British and there is some talk of Cromer having given the Party his blessing before he left. Were it not for the fact that I am his wife — a fact which renders
him perhaps excessively anxious to avoid any whisper of a link to the British — I
believe he may have joined it. As it is, he remains a free man and publishes his writings where he chooses and works on those projects on which both the Watani and the Ummah are united
.

We are very close now to seeing a School of Fine Art inaugurated. The Khedive has appointed Prince Ahmad Fuad Chairman of the Council for the National University and my husband and Ya
qub Artin Basha are working on its Charter. I believe on the whole that the tally for 1907 has been a good one, with the pardon for the Denshwai prisoners coming, as it does, at the end of the year. I wonder if it is any comfort to the widows and orphans of that village that the brutality committed against them has led to the fall of Cromer and has reverberated across the world? The odd thing is that Cromer was by all accounts most surprised and disappointed when he returned to find feeling in all quarters so united against him and he persisted to the end in ascribing this to the schemings of the Khedive rather than to his own actions. But enough! Enough of politics, as Zeinab Hanim constantly says. Poor lady, her life has been completely governed by the politics first of her husband and then of her son. But she is happy enough now with three children running about the house. She looks at me kindly and says, ‘Look at the wisdom of God, my daughter, sending you from far countries to my son after all those barren years.’

How I wish it were possible to say ‘Enough of polities’, truly and forever. I find myself thinking sometimes of life in London, occupied with nothing more than choosing the day’s menu, attending to the children and doing odd things about the house. Perhaps walking in the Park. Perhaps going out in the evening to the theatre or to dinner with friends. And now, in December, I think of Christmas trees and lights and breaking off from shopping to have lunch with a friend. But when I imagine myself in Thurloe Place I see Nur come dancing down the stairs. When I enter the foyer of a theatre it is my husband’s arm on which I lean. When I go into Harrods it is to choose a present for him and another for Zeinab Hanim. And when I stop for lunch
it is Layla with whom I compare purchases and lists across the table
.

AND IF I INTERPRET ANNA’S
presence among us as a sign that He willed good for our house, how then do I interpret those other, later events? Events that perhaps found their roots in that very presence. I do not know. I leave that question to other, wiser minds than mine. We lived our lives together and hardly a day passed but we were in each other’s company for some of its hours.

The University, as everyone knows, was started in
1326/1908
. What many people no longer remember is that in its first year it held special classes for ladies on Fridays. Nabawiyya Musa, Malàk Hifni Nasif, Labiba Hashim and I were selected to conduct these classes. And we invited Anna to talk about art and Madame Hussein Rushdi to talk about European history. Anna joked that the hareem had made a working woman of her, for she was constantly occupied in preparing for her classes, writing for the magazine and translating from and into English for my brother. She had information from her friends in Britain and he had a knowledge of Egypt, a clear mind and a gift for logical yet impassioned argument. And then she had a talent for the English style and so each article they published struck a true blow.

Mustafa Kamel Basha’s death was a great setback to the country, but for a while it seemed that his work would be continued by Muhammad Bey Farid. My husband worked with him on the affairs of the workers and during
1908
we succeeded in establishing four trade unions. And with the CUP revolution in Turkey and the declaration of the Turkish Constitution and the Ottoman Parliament, it seemed that change was truly coming. The British Government refused to allow Egypt to have a Representative at the Parliament, and at the Army Parade in November the students and the people burst into spontaneous cries of ‘Vive l’indépendence!’

And our domestic life was happy. My mother was like a hen with a great brood of chicks, my father was content to sit and watch Anna weave her magical tapestry, and though we were only blessed with one child each, the children grew up and with them grew their loving affection for us and for each other.