Memoir of a collapse
Gamil Matar, The First Story, Dar Al-Hilal, Cairo, 2002. pp269
Gamil Matar -- that "amateur writer and professional scholar", as Salaheddin Hafez describes him in the introduction to this book-- has chosen a curious title. "First Story" suggests that this work should be subsumed within a broader literary context, yet this small book, which draws one in so completely that it is hard not to finish it in a single night, is no ordinary account of an Egyptian or Arab diplomat. Indeed, it defies classification, defeating expectations of a genre that is all too frequently self- congratulatory and given to boasting its subject's centrality to events, even if reality speaks otherwise. Nor is this the memoir of a young diplomat who experienced at close quarters the first signs of collapse in a political system that had held the hopes of millions of Egyptians. This is no mere story, or collection of anecdotes, for it is no exaggeration to say that Matar's account takes us to the heart of the matter. The many poignant questions stirred up by the simple stories related in this book by a man who is now a prominent scholar of political affairs and international relations remain unanswered, and they will continue to haunt readers for years to come.
Perhaps the most salient characteristic of Gamil Matar's memoir is its candour and freshness in depicting Egyptian society in the early 1960s. One vividly senses the arrogance of the military men who had taken over the civil administration in general and the diplomatic corps in particular. Granted, the Egyptian diplomatic corps at that time was ill-equipped to express the grand ambitions of the new revolutionary regime. However, this was no excuse for neglecting the task of training a new generation of civilian diplomats, nor, for that matter, for the smug condescension that characterised those diplomats taken from the ranks of the military.
Matar drives this point home in his contrast between the military officer turned ambassador to Buenos Aires in 1966 and his civilian colleague who was then Egyptian ambassador to India. Whereas the former lacked the skills and know-how necessary for his post, the latter was a true professional who later served in the most important capital city in the world, Washington, during one of the most sensitive periods in Egyptian-US relations. This man, paradoxically, was Mustafa Kamel, who harboured a profound distaste for the revolutionary regime at home, who often described his country and its people as "backward", and whose disgust led him to fabricate reports to his superiors during his service in New Delhi and Washington.
Also palpable in Matar's narrative is the absence of the spirit of responsibility, initiative and dedication among many members of the diplomatic corps at the time, an impression made all the stronger in the light of the prominent regional and international role that President Gamal Abdel-Nasser had staked out for Egypt. One is equally struck by Matar's depiction of the corruption, graft and nepotism that oiled the wheels of the military establishment at the time and that remains rampant today. Nor could Matar easily tolerate the general negligence and laxity among the embassy staff and government employees he encountered. Unable to tolerate such practices, Matar fell foul of his superiors on numerous occasions in his early career, and his stories in this regard reflect an intelligent, yet passionate, idealism.
Matar encountered the corruption and arrogance of the diplomatic corps from the outset in his posting in Argentina. He relates, for example, that the Egyptian ambassador to Buenos Aires, whom he refers to as one of the pillars of the revolution, boasted two air conditioners in his residence, one in the kitchen, while the rest of the embassy staff was left to endure the intolerable heat and humidity of the Argentine capital. To Matar at the time this was indicative of the selfishness of the revolutionary officers, in spite of the socialist slogans they spouted and the lip-service they paid to serving the poor and underprivileged. However, Matar was no less enraged by the fawning servility and sycophancy displayed by those at the bottom of the hierarchy towards their superiors.
If many of these traits and attitudes were responsible for defeat in the 1967 war, so too was the unthinking thraldom that Matar diagnoses among his contemporaries to red tape and plain stupidity. Why would a man entrusted with official secrets dispatch journalist Mohamed Hassanein Heikal's articles to Egyptian embassies abroad in code when US and Israeli intelligence could easily break the code by comparing it to the then Al-Ahram editor-in-chief's weekly column in the newspaper? If such things occurred, then these naïve and unthinking communications officers have much to answer for.
With the image of the pompous army man -- diplomat in mind, it is not without a certain malicious glee that one reads Matar's account of the Argentinian wheat debacle in the 1960s. In 1965, the government of Argentina expelled the Egyptian trade mission, headed by the former Egyptian ambassador, now promoted to minister, because he had attempted to persuade officers in the Argentinian army to pressure their government to approve the sale of wheat to Egypt. As is often the case in such instances of flagrant bungling, the official then submitted a false report to his superiors in Cairo to cover up his incompetence.
Yet, The First Story is not all tales of ineptitude and scandal. The passages on the author's experiences in China and India will be especially revealing to today's generation, who may have little conception of the heartrending poverty -- "poorer than poor", in Matar's words -- and lack of fundamental infrastructure and necessities of life that plagued those countries in the 1960s. Against such a vividly portrayed background, the levels of progress attained by China and India are both impressive and edifying. Nor is the book without some bright points, as in Matar's account of the valour of Egyptian Olympic swimmer Abdel Latif Abu Haif in Argentina.
Gamil Matar's The First Story offers a blend of pathos and wit, censure and encouragement, and instruction and comfort. How desperately we need more such books, told with such refreshing simplicity and sincerity, to hold a clear and truthful mirror up to ourselves.
Reviewed by Abdel-Khaleq Farouk
