Heart of the Night by Naguib Mahfouz
“But how did your life turn upside-down so tragically?” I asked.
“I told you before that I proceed in life by impulsive leaps. I discovered the world of the mind suddenly and it fascinated me. I became aware that I had been experimenting in the void, and I was now invited to venture truly into the world of the mind. That was the genuine adventure.”
“What about freedom?” I asked with interest.
“Freedom is like an adventure. You practice it sometimes, for the enjoyment of the instincts, the way I enjoyed Marwana, wine, and narcotics. But that is slavery masquerading as freedom. True freedom, on the other hand, is an awareness of the mind, its message, and its objectives. It consists in determining freely the means to be used, and organizing them meticulously in a manner that causes them to act like chains. It is therefore freedom masquerading as slavery. This is how my life proceeded in the house in Manyal. There was a time for studies, a time for free reading, and a time for discussions, promenades, and love. It traveled on a long road over which I raised the flag of reason.”
Interrupting, I asked him to tell me about the tragedy.
He sighed and said, “Be patient. It was a private tragedy. First I want to submit to you my vision of a public tragedy, that of the wise human being. Before the creation of the mind, man was in harmony with himself and his life: a life of harsh struggle. He did not seem to have a choice but to endure it, like any other animal. When he received the gift of the mind and began creating civilization, he bore a new charge, an inevitable responsibility, and one that he was not qualified to assume. It was then that he became aware of the full view, that his life on earth was the life of a single being, despite the obvious contradictions. The truth of the matter is that that man was and continues to be in a period of transition where the instincts and the mind are both present. The instincts oppose whatever the mind advises, and to this day, the instincts always win—at least in public life.
“The mind achieved total supremacy only in the sciences. Apart from that, it submits to the instincts, and even the achievements of science are gobbled up by the instincts. Though the mind maintains its own language in the field of research, the language that appeals to the masses continues to be the language of emotions and instincts, as evidenced by songs about sex, the homeland, racial discrimination, stupid dreams, and blunders. This is the public tragedy, and its red clouds won’t vanish until the voice of reason rises and instincts wither and cease to exist.
“My personal tragedy, however, was the result of the struggle between my mind and my unshakable belief in God. I was faced with the question that begged to be asked: how could I maintain my faith if I wanted to make the mind my guide and my inspiration? Consequently, my trust in pure faith was shaken, and so was my belief in the language of the heart. It was up to the mind to resolve this dilemma with its own strength. To deny that the mind was not created for this purpose is nothing short of an admission of failure, and to suggest replacing it with the heart or with spontaneity is another admission of failure.”
“What did your mind tell you to do?” I asked.
“My mind failed completely to comprehend God, or even envision Him, but it could not help but assume His presence. This is the tragedy, because if people believe that the problem is artificial and it is possible to live without thinking about it, everything loses its meaning, no matter how much meaning we attribute to all things with the power of our imagination, will, and courage. I envy those who live happily and die contented, having not known a god.
“I shared my worries with Huda, who has an unwavering faith, so strong that she never neglected a prayer or a day of fasting.
“She told me, ‘It is impossible to accept the universe without the existence of God. Don’t you see the continuous acts of creation taking place under our own eyes, in the world of plants, animals, and human beings? It is not possible to doubt the power of creation.’
“‘I want a very close connection and a strong conviction, like one plus one equals two,’ I said.
“‘We are talking about the heart as the source of faith,’ she replied. ‘But remember that only the man who reasons believes in God. Reason is in fact the foundation of faith, but man’s relative inability to be sentient, despite his aspirations to it, makes him assign faith to another organ of the body, to avoid contradiction.’
“‘The human being became aware of life, death, and fear,’ I said, ‘and so he ordered his mind to safeguard hope. Even Moses himself wanted to see God.’”
At this point I asked him, “What about your faith now, Jaafar?”
He threw his head back, and with his weak eyes looked at the stream of stars between the minaret of al-Hussein Mosque on the one side and the old houses on the other. “I am unable to deny God’s existence!” he whispered.
He went on narrating his story. “I progressed in my studies and achieved huge success. I became more aware and acquired a diverse culture. I had four boys. It was the happiest and the most fulfilling period in my life.
“Muhammad Shakroun was in charge of the legal alimony to Marwana. When my oldest son reached the legal age to live with me, I decided to use my right to claim him. Huda did not object when I informed her of my decision, but I found out that Marwana had remarried and gone with her husband and the children to live in an oasis. Some said she went to Libya. I was extremely sad.
“My friendship with Shakroun remained intact. We prayed each Friday in al-Hussein Mosque, then ate lunch in Hilmiya. Shakroun’s Islam was limited to the Friday prayer and abstaining from alcohol during the month of Ramadan. He explained to me that artists like him would be judged more leniently, due to their life conditions and the needs of their profession. His success as a second-class singer was established. His popular songs became known and were available on records. He moved with his family to Rod al-Farag, but he never had children.
“He remained my only friend until I met colleagues from Khan Jaafar, who were ahead of me in their studies and worked as lawyers and teachers. I benefited from them, but that was not their only impact on my life, as you will see.
“My children were my main source of happiness. They were extremely handsome and healthy. The oldest was a copy of his great-grandfather, al-Rawi.
“I heard very little about my grandfather, only what Shakroun reported to me. As he grew older, he kept to his house, leaving it only for the Friday prayer at the mosque. He limited the number of receptions for his friends. Those who frequented his home had the impression that with age he had forgotten his past and present preoccupations. I wondered whether I would be more than a memory in his heart.
“I continued my studies and obtained my law degree. Huda generously provided me with a law office in Bab al-Khalq, and furnished it with a valuable library and fine furniture, the kind that is found in the offices of famous lawyers.
“Thus began a new phase in my life.”
7
The office attorney was at the center of activities. He was in charge of minor cases that were quite suitable for a young lawyer at the beginning of his career. I was, in fact, his assistant, and my work revolved around his activities. But my office became the meeting place for my friends, especially those whose opinion I sought while studying law. They were originally distant travel companions, but throughout our regular meetings they achieved the political conquest of my soul.
“I want you to know that I was not totally disconnected from politics, as you might think. Among the numerous guests in my grandfather’s house, I met those who shared the same ideas as these new companions. They praised the elite, who, in their view, must rule for the benefit of the elite, for the masses, and for the homeland. The discussion often revolved around the charter, not as a base for a government of the people, but as a document that validated the elite’s rule and confirmed them vis-à-vis the ruler. It was as if the field of government was available only for the ruler and the elite.
“I admired their grandiose looks, their thick mustaches, and th
“One evening, I heard my grandfather ask them, ‘Politics in your opinion is therefore like Sufism, inaccessible to outsiders?’
“They answered in the affirmative, which made my grandfather wonder, ‘Who would look after the interests of the commoners?’
“‘We are the owners of the agencies that matter,’ they replied. ‘We are the masters of agriculture, trade, and industry. As for the masses, they do not need more than a craft to earn a living, and some services.’
“I was convinced by that theory, and accepted it as the best means to run matters in an orderly fashion. I thanked God for being a member of the elite and not the masses.
“Exciting times arrived then, as the voice of the people rose high and filled the space. The masses demonstrated in large numbers, pouring in like a flood. I watched them from the roof of my grandfather’s palace, surprised and happy.
“Despite all that, I was never drawn to the political realm. I was convinced that I could experience life, its good and its bad, without ever getting involved in politics.
“I became, unexpectedly, strongly involved in politics for the first time, in my office in Bab al-Khalq. I struggled with the concepts of liberalism, socialism, communism, anarchism, the Salafiya movement, and fascism. I found myself in a raging whirlwind that made my head spin. Following my belief in the holiness of the mind, I turned to it for guidance in the midst of that turmoil.
“One day I was reviewing various ideologies with Professor Saad Kabir. His is the only name I will mention, because of the dangerous role he played in my life, while the others had a minimal impact on me.
“‘What are you?’ he asked me.
“‘Nothing,’ I said hesitantly.
“‘It is death,’ he said, furious. He was a very sensitive man, and extremely nervous, despite his intelligence and vast knowledge. I objected, saying, ‘But I am a diligent student who worships the mind.’
“‘Can the mind fulfill its purpose without providing an opinion on the system of human rule?’
“‘But … but politics serve specific interests,’ I said.
“‘Interests guide the average person to his political party, but a bright mind is able to discriminate between good and evil,’ he explained.
“Smiling, I asked, ‘In your opinion, in what direction are my interests guiding me?’
“‘With the mind you should be able to go beyond your position,’ he replied.
“‘I have to give myself more time for reflection,’ I said.
“I shared my concerns with Huda, since she was my best friend. I had no secrets from her. She said without hesitation, ‘I’ve noticed that politics is destructive to the mind.’
“My answer reflected my inner struggle, as I said to her, ‘This depends on the mind itself.’
“She spoke with conviction: ‘In politics, the mind finds itself in an ordeal.’
“‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘But running away from it is not the solution.’
“I must admit that thinking had become an intrinsic part of my life, and I was strongly challenged by what I had heard in my office. I started wondering about the significance of all that. Despite the reciprocal and sincere feelings of friendship between my friends and me, I had no doubt that some of them regarded my higher social class with true dislike. As a result, I began for the first time to consider this situation as the source of a socio-political struggle. It was as if I had awakened to find myself lying over the mouth of a volcano.
“As the grandson of al-Rawi, I belonged to the feudalistic class. This put my interests in agreement with the rule of the elite, and might not differ sharply from the religious Salafi ideology. But I did not agree with popular liberalism. As for the communists and the socialists, they were my natural enemies—it was like the enmity between cat and mouse. This was my thinking, but I wondered if I would be able to use the mind to assess those different sects in all honesty. Or would I be betrayed by emotions and use the mind as a clever slave? I could seek peace by avoiding politics, but I believed that this position was not in any way compatible with the respect and veneration of the mind. Politics was life.
“My dialogue with Saad Kabir continued as I found in his position the true challenge, a forceful confrontation. I told him once, ‘Politics is a vast world whose charms are distributed between all ideologies!’
“His dark face and small features became stiff. ‘You are forgiven your hesitation, because an idea needs an incubation period.’
“‘Be patient with me,’ I said. ‘I find the elite noble, cultured, and possessed of a historical authenticity.’
“‘It is possible, in a fair social system, for everyone to rise to the level of the elite,’ he said.
“I thought about that, then said, ‘There are freedom, values, and human rights of great beauty in liberalism.’
“‘This was all used to serve the interests of a special social class,’ he said.
“I said, with the same sincerity, ‘There is in communism full justice that provides human ideologies with the possibility to open up and thrive.’
“‘That is probably the least that can be said about it.’
“I continued, ‘And in religion there are countless balanced benefits.’
“He lost his temper. ‘Damn it!’ he said.
“Disregarding his anger, I said, ‘We seek the truth no matter how long we fumble.’
“Huda was an authentic libertarian and considered the British system ideal. She was following my reflections with concerned interest. I asked her one day, ‘Why are you worried, Huda?’
“‘Thinking about politics,’ she said sincerely, ‘might be followed by political activities, and it is a matter not devoid of danger.’
“I took a deep breath. ‘Safety is a beautiful thing, but there are in life things more important than safety.’
“‘This is why I sometimes feel that my happy household is facing a threat,’ she said.
“I kissed her and said, ‘Be courageous, as I have always known you to be.’
“‘It is fashionable nowadays for young people to believe in communism,’ she told me.
“‘I only think, my darling, and I am not concerned by what is fashionable in any way whatsoever.’
“And so I went on studying and thinking.”
At this point Jaafar laughed so loudly that his voice disturbed both those sleeping and those roving this historical district.
“What is so funny?” I asked.
“I will tell you a secret I never shared with anybody, not even with my friendly wife,” he replied.
“Truly?”
“It once occurred to me that there were some similarities between my life and that of the Prophet!”
He paused, but when I did not comment, he carried on. “My father died when I was quite young and my mother died when I was hardly five. It was my grandfather who raised me. I viewed my departure from my grandfather’s house as a kind of emigration.”
“But the Prophet did not emigrate for the sake of adventure,” I said.
“Of course not, of course not. It is merely a resemblance, not a conformity between the two lives. There was my marriage to an honorable upper-class woman who was older than me. She provided me with opportunities to study and reflect. I considered all that, but then it occurred to me that I was also a man with a mission.”
“A religious mission?” I asked, laughing.
“Let’s say a mission of a new kind. I was fascinated by the idea, and it quickly enthralled me. I pursued my studies and reflection, and continuously reminded myself of the tricks of instincts and emotions in order to purify my thinking an
“My first conclusion was related to our social order, which I found to be illogical, unjust, and responsible for all our ills: our poverty, illiteracy, and sickness. I also concluded that I was not a member of the elite as I had often thought, but a member of a gang. Huda objected to this description and alluded to her ancestors’ honorable origins. I analyzed the sources of wealth—gifts, opportunism, exploitation, oppression, and force—until I was convinced that there was no legal wealth in the strict meaning of the word.
“Saad Kabir encouraged me: ‘This is a good direction and promises a happy ending, but you have to start with argumentative materialism and historical materialism.’
“I told him with confidence, ‘I have the same position regarding all philosophies, and Marxist philosophy is only one of many philosophies. Why does it have to turn into a creed, and why does it impose itself by force and dictatorship?’
“‘It is not a philosophy. It was revealed through the heaven of theoretical reflection, to be applied to people’s lives. Let’s give humanity hope. It deserves to be an article of faith.’
“I said, reluctantly, ‘To make an authoritative assertion in favor of materialism is not more powerful, in the realm of the mind, than confirming authoritatively the existence of God.’
“‘You are still an idealist.’
“I shouted, ‘Do not throw strange accusations at me. Stay within the limits of an objective discussion.’
“He calmed down and advised me to study. ‘You need more lessons,’ he said.
“‘But I am not convinced by that theory, while I consider social justice to be obvious without the need for a theory.’
“I devoted more time to my studies. My heart became an arena for a hellish struggle. During this period I spent little time with my wife and rarely played with my children. I was overcome with the idea of a mission as a promising and powerful force, albeit a modest mission, because I vowed to save humanity only in Egypt. I was constantly thinking and rethinking, warning myself repeatedly lest my thinking slide down the slippery roads of emotions and inherited beliefs. Finally I decided to write down my thoughts to ensure clarity in my thinking.”