Ashraf El-Bayoumi: For some people there is no middle ground Images in black and white Profile by Fatemah Farag

photos: Randa Shaath

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Ashraf El-Bayoumi has become inescapable. At demonstrations, rallies, sit-ins, on satellite television stations and in the press, El- Bayoumi is everywhere, a bundle of fiery energy on the verge of explosion, armed with a file of papers to support his arguments. Because for all of El-Bayoumi's exuberant radicalism, at the end of the day, he is a scientist, the strength of his nationalist feelings equalled only by his devotion to scientific method.

But perhaps this is jumping the gun. The making of El-Bayoumi began a long time ago -- this year he will be 70. Born in the Cairo neighbourhood of Abbasiya, El-Bayoumi spent his childhood between Sohag, Fayoum, Tanta and finally Alexandria, the moves dictated by his father's job as civil servant in the Land Surveying Department. His father, one of the founding members of the Muslim Brotherhood, was, according to his son, not an "ideologue but a strong believer in nationalism and moral correctness", attitudes that would colour the political leanings of young Ashraf for years to come. He recounts that once, as a 16 year-old, he was in his father's office when a colleague came in and asked Ashraf to sketch his portrait.

"He picked up a piece of paper from my father's desk and said 'draw me'. I told him 'no, I cannot.' My father had taught us not to use government equipment for personal purposes."

For all the influence of his father, though, it is his maternal grandfather that Ashraf first mentions. "During the Second World War his house in Sakakini was damaged as a result of bombing. He got so scared that he left Cairo and came to join us in Sohag and lived with us from then on. He was blind, very bright, a wonderful storyteller and very jovial. Very soon we developed a symbiotic relationship; I read to him and he taught me everything. As a young boy I would read him the papers that I could not understand and he would explain. Together we read poetry, novels and theology. I walked by his side for so many years, and he was always to my right because he held his cane in his right hand. Even now I cannot walk with anyone unless they are to my right.

"My social awareness was formulated by the movies of Youssef Wahby and James Cagney -- just so that you know how naive I am," he says. And, of course, an extended family that included Wafdists and Communists, all of whom would gather and debate "even issues that we should not, such as God".

This was in the late forties. "The extent of cohabitation of different ideas at the time was amazing," he says.

It was a time that valued education. "I fell in love with chemistry in high school because I had an excellent teacher who took an interest in developing my curiosity."

Although he would have preferred to go to medical school he joined the faculty of science in 1950 in the hope that he would eventually transfer, but was once more so impressed by his teachers that he stayed on.

Throughout this period, El-Bayoumi remained within the ranks of the Muslim Brotherhood. It was a political affiliation that was not to last. He lists the reasons that led to his final disaffection with the group: "First there was Hodeibi Senior's meeting with King Farouk and then I do not like those who patronise, and also I could not believe that they could be bitter enough against Nasser to rejoice in 1956 [the Tripartite Aggression]."

He reduces his credo to a single statement: "I condemn any political group that puts political interests ahead of nationalist interests."

Out of which grows the El-Bayoumi-version of radicalism. He finds his allies "in every political faction. Excellent people exist, and I find allies in the common man".

It is entirely typical that when El-Bayoumi was invited recently to a Brotherhood- organised rally to talk about Iraq he ended up talking about sectarianism.

"It was at the Bar Association and one man got up and shouted the slogan: 'Christians and Muslims, we are all Egyptians.' No one among the Brotherhood-dominated audience would repeat the chant. And so when it was my turn to speak I said: 'What is happening in this hall is nonsense and we will talk about it. If you hate the Copts just say it and then we can see how to deal with the problem.'"

In a society the political history of which is profoundly coloured by the importance of your affiliations to stand alone, to maintain independence is no easy path.

While EL-Bayoumi rejoiced in the 1952 Revolution -- "I have never seen Egyptian society so coherent" -- he did not hesitate to support the revolution's first president, Mohamed Naguib, in his conflict with Nasser and the Revolution Command Council, and voice criticism of the new regime's anti-democratic attitude, a criticism no doubt fuelled by the arrest of his father in 1954 in connection with the attempted assassination of Gamal Abdel- Nasser in Al-Mansheiya Square in Alexandria. "I was furious at the time," he recounts, his eyes taking on the blaze of his old fury.

Then El-Bayoumi was awarded a fellowship from Florida State University and given the opportunity to leave everything behind to pursue science.

"I remember the day I left on the Khedive Ismail Boat from Alex. I was leaving behind a family I loved and a country I felt very strongly about. My grandfather was standing on the wharf weeping. And I was so happy. For the first time in my life I was on my own."

That he received first a scholarship to study for his masters, and then a PhD and post- doctoral degrees in the US is, he believes, testimony to the brilliance of Egyptian chemists before him.

"It started with Ezzat Younathan who was sent on a six-months mission at a university in Tallahassee to study fermenting techniques for the production of beer. He so excelled in bio-chemistry that he was invited to stay on to take a PhD and eventually taught in the US. The faculty members were so impressed that they offered another two fellowships to Egyptian chemists who again showed such excellence that a further two fellowships were offered."

"I know exactly how dreadful the sanctions are. I have so many images of horror in my mind. I would go home to my hotel at the end of a day's work and cry to release the sadness. A child dying on its mother's lap amid helpless doctors is a haunting thing to see."

Now he understands that his excitement at travelling was the result of the illusions he harboured about what would greet him in the US. "When I left to the States I was young and aspects of my education superficial. I had read a book, in Arabic, American Wonderland. You know the kind of thing, where you have machines in which they put a cow in one end and sausages come out from the other. This notion of a wonderland impressed me. I was under the impression that the issue of slavery had been resolved."

He also thought that going to the West in winter required bundling yourself up in woolen suits, and that the capitals of states would inevitably be glamorous.

"So there we were, my Egyptian colleague and myself, on the train heading from Washington DC to Florida State University and we had to transfer at Jacksonville. We were placed in the carriage for coloured people. My immediate reaction was anger and I moved to the next car. Then we arrive in Tallahassee, the capital of Florida, and we were shocked to find an unpaved road and a station the sixth of the size of the Sidi Gaber Train Station in Alexandria. And we were sweating like anything in our suits because it was hot and humid. We approached two fountains at the station, one marked white and the other coloured. My colleague went to the first and I told him not to be silly. Come to this one, I said, it must have coloured water. And as I pushed the button I thought purple or blue water would come gushing forth and instead it was just plain water and not even cold. My heart sank."

Such episodes paved the way for a more mature understanding of the United States, leading to activism in the civil rights movement, the anti-Vietnam war movement and, ultimately, to a better understanding of himself.

"I matured and realised that it was ridiculous to say I am not a Negro, I am not coloured. Instead, when confronted with the label I began challenging people's racism. At first I did not feel comfortable with this, it took another level of self-education for me to eventually feel proud of being African."

"A true intellectual dissects himself, combats facets of his/her personality. Another thing I would eventually realise in myself is that I was a chauvinist. Eventually I would learn to overcome this."

El-Bayoumi returned to Egypt in 1962 to lecture at Alexandria University. They were times of political activity and strife.

"I was very critical of the emphasis the regime was putting on applied sciences and I remember coming into conflict with Rushdi Said [a prominent Egyptian scientist] at the time. I also refused to participate in required political activities, such as joining the [ruling] Arab Socialist Union. I could not stand the hypocrisy of those who acted like nationalists but who compiled reports on their colleagues for the security authorities. One of them once came up to me and said 'you are negative' and I told him 'you are impertinent.'"

With time El-Bayoumi discovered he had been black-listed by the regime and could not leave the country. It took a great deal of manoeuvering to finally secure a letter from Gamal Abdel-Nasser's office giving him permission to leave Egypt. This took place in February 1967, by which time he was "so angry that I left with my family. I was worried about Egypt because I realised that we were, for all the rhetoric, highly vulnerable".

Following the June 1967 defeat El-Bayoumi locked himself in his home in the US for a whole month and considered returning. He had realised that the implications of the defeat meant everything had to be reconsidered from scratch.

He became active in support of the Palestinian cause at Berkeley, Cambridge, and Michigan State.

"Our house became a centre of political activity and I enjoyed the intellectual community of the educational institutions. I would be torn between attending a lecture by [actor] Gregory Peck or by a famous astro-physicist. I was in a state of climax all the time: the food, the discussions and the natural beauty all around me."

El-Bayoumi found much to enjoy in the 30 odd years he spent in the US. His nationalism expanded beyond the Muslim Brotherhood variety to encompass his feeling at home in Moscow, India and Iraq. "I am no longer a foreigner anywhere," he says.

Now he lives in downtown Cairo. The house is cozy: the news seems to be on all the time and no sooner do you sit down than a discussion of the latest development in Iraq is in full swing. On a side table is a small framed newspaper photograph of Mohamed Ezzat El- Bayoumi, Ashraf's uncle, and the first martyr of the 1919 Revolution. Neat piles of newspapers are everywhere -- his wife, Soheir Mursi, professor of anthropology, international consultant and public figure in her own right, complains that Ashraf is messy.

"I have to save the papers," retorts her husband. "Libraries in our part of the world are not very dependable."

There is no question, though, that together they make one hell of a team. She reminds him to take his wallet as he heads for the door blustering about papers he cannot find but which, invariably, are exactly where he left them.

"You are innocent of having removed them," he laughs as he leaves.

Ask Ashraf about their relationship and he adopts a dry, scientific tone: "A relationship must be nurtured... Distance is important... Individuality is crucial. I do not want to give the image of the fairy tale marriage. Sometimes we argue and people think these two will be divorced tomorrow."

"Without Soheir," he adds, "life would be miserable."

They arrived in their downtown Cairo flat via a long and winding road. In the early eighties he resigned from a tenured professorship at Michigan State University to come to the University of Alexandria. But friction with the Sadat regime -- El-Bayoumi had thrown himself unconditionally into the anti- normalisation movement and made a lot of enemies -- led to his transfer to the Ministry of Industry.

"The dean of the university made the mistake of taking an ad out in the papers congratulating Sadat for having kicked out 14 professors. A few months later [after the assassination of Sadat in October 1981] I was returned to my post and continued to be very active in the Faculty Club, not just with respect to nationalist issues but also in promoting democratic rights.

"I am an independent man though I did search for a place to belong. In 1984, although I did not join the [left-wing] Tagammu Party I ran at the top of their party list in the parliamentary elections. It was a fantastic experience. We showed videos of Sabra and Shatila on the streets and talked to everyone. We created havoc."

They did not win, and had not expected to. El-Bayoumi thought this was just the beginning of an extended campaign to win people over to more radical national and social platforms.

"The party, however, stepped back, and with time I found they no longer defended the things I was interested in." He never became a member.

His days at Alexandria University were numbered: amid an intellectual atmosphere he describes as infested with "corruption, nepotism and dishonesty" he found himself once more at a crossroads.

"There was a case of academic plagiarism that I tried to get action taken against. Because of the political connections of the plagiariser he was not penalised and I handed in my resignation."

It was a sad moment, but it opened the door for the experience of a lifetime. Within months El-Bayoumi was chosen by the World Food Programme (WFP) to head its observation committee in Iraq, since which time he has become an expert on the effects of sanctions as well as the effects of the use of depleted uranium in American weapons.

He joined a UNICEF project to assess the nutritional status of children under sanctions. "I know exactly how dreadful the sanctions are. I have so many images of horror in my mind. I would go home to my hotel at the end of a day's work and cry to release the sadness. A child dying on its mother's lap amid helpless doctors is a haunting thing to see."

El-Bayoumi argued for increasing the volume of food provided under the Oil-for-Food programme. But finally, when he felt the system was at odds with his conscience, he again resigned, and headed to Washington to make a statement before the Congress.

"It was not an easy decision to make, for one, we needed the money, but my responsibility to expose why children were dying won. I had to speak my mind."

EL-Bayoumi has, and is, collecting a huge dossier of evidence suggesting the US was all along determined to commit war crimes in Iraq. When he learned of the use of depleted uranium he made it his business to become an expert.

"The United States, by using depleted uranium, has been spreading radio-active material not only in Iraq but in parts of the Balkans. It was also used to a lesser extent in Kosovo. The effects are cancer: if you breath it in it will be cancer of the lungs, if you get it through polluted water or food it could go to any part of the body. If it reaches the sexual organs it results in children with either genetic deformities or leukemia."

But for all the horror El-Bayoumi sees another side: "I saw the rebuilding efforts of the Iraqis, and the doctors who worked with great love for $6 a month. I saw remarkable resistance."

Baghdad is being deluged with bombs that El-Bayoumi is sure include more depleted uranium. Yet still he hopes for a better world. His optimism is fuelled by the anti-war, anti- globalisation movement.

Ashraf El-Bayoumi is in the end a scientist. "Resonance is a fact. I tell the security forces that close in on our ranks, you do this even though you know we are few in number because you know our position has resonance with millions. Understanding science helps. In chemistry we can predict the direction of change with certainty -- this is thermodynamics. I believe the direction of change is in our favour: political Zionism cannot live and will collapse. This gives me confidence. It will not happen in my lifetime but we are on a course that will materialise."