Read The Camel of Destruction for Free Online Page B

view of the nature of its business, history mixed with religion, the English thought it politic to leave alone. So he didn’t.
    ‘Arranged alphabetically by the initial letter of the name?’
    ‘Of course.’
    The clerk went off. As he disappeared behind the stacks Owen heard a voice say softly in Arabic:
    ‘Is that courteous?’
    ‘It is only a foreign effendi—’
    ‘Then that is worse. For in that case you are representing not just the Ministry but also our country: and what will the foreign effendi think of a country whose servants behave as you have just been doing?’
    ‘I said nothing—’
    ‘I heard what you said. And now I will tell you what you will do. You will go round and you will collect all the files that the effendi needs and you will take them to him.’
    ‘I—’ began the clerk, but then stopped abruptly.
    He began to bring Owen files at speed.
    Owen went round the stack to thank his benefactor. He found a young Egyptian, smartly dressed, not in the usual dark suit of the office effendi, but in a light, white, French-style cotton suit and a red tie exactly chosen to go with his red tarboosh.
    He was sitting at a table reading one of the files but looked up politely as Owen approached. His eyes opened wide in surprise and he jumped up.
    ‘
Mon cher ami
!’
    ‘Mahmoud!’
    ‘I didn’t realize—’
    They embraced warmly in the Arab fashion.
    ‘But why,’ demanded Mahmoud, disengaging himself, ‘did you put up with him?’
    ‘Well, I thought, this is a special Ministry—’
    ‘But why did you think that?’
    ‘The religious connection—’
    ‘But you mustn’t think that! It is just a Ministry like any other. You mustn’t expect less than you would from other Departments. That is to insult it.’
    ‘It’s not that, exactly—’
    ‘But this is important! If you do not apply the same standards, is it because you think this is only an Egyptian Department, it’s not a proper one?’
    ‘No, no. Certainly not! Look, it’s not worth bothering about.’
    ‘But it is, it is,’ cried Mahmoud excitedly. ‘You put up with it because you say, “They are only Egyptians, you can’t expect anything better;” and that is bad, that is to wrong us, to insult us—’
    ‘I don’t do anything of the sort—’
    ‘It is to apply a double standard, one for the English, another for the Egyptians!’
    ‘Nonsense!’
    ‘Tell me,’ said Mahmoud fiercely, ‘would you expect the same service if you were in England?’
    It was a long time since Owen had been in England. He considered the matter honestly.
    ‘Yes,’ he said firmly.
    ‘Yes?’
    Mahmoud stopped, astonished.
    ‘They’re the same the whole world over.’
    ‘They are?’
    ‘They are.’
    ‘Well…’ said Mahmoud, deflating. ‘Well…All the same,’ he shot out as the unfortunate clerk scurried past, ‘the service here needs improving!’
    They were old friends and had, indeed, worked together on several important cases. Mahmoud was a lawyer, a rising star of the Parquet.
    ‘What are you doing here?’ asked Owen.
    ‘Working up a case,’ said Mahmoud. ‘It starts tomorrow.’
    ‘I didn’t know you were an expert on
waqfs
.’
    ‘I’m not. That’s why I’m going over it again before I get in court.’
    ‘Can I get some free legal advice? No, I’ll tell you what, I’ll pay for it. I’ll take you out to lunch.’
    ‘You don’t need to pay for it,’ said Mahmoud, ‘but lunch would be a pleasure.’
    They agreed to meet at one and for the rest of the morning Owen worked on the files the clerk had brought him, after which he was little the wiser.
    ‘It
is
complicated,’ Mahmoud admitted over lunch, ‘but basically what you want to know is: can a
waqf
be set aside?’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘On what grounds?’
    ‘Well, you tell me. Public interest?’
    Mahmoud shook his head.
    ‘Not a chance. There
is
an issue of public interest, since the endowment was established for the benefit of local children. But