Now this could only happen to a guy like meAnd only happen in a town like thisAnd so I say to each of you most gratefullyAs I throw each one of you a kissThis is my kind of town, Chicago isMy kind of town, Chicago isMy kind of people tooPeople who smile at you By the time I finished reading Alaa al-Aswanl’s novel Chicago, I felt a tightening in my stomach and a painful constriction in my throat. Even though I have always known about our acrimonious discrimination—as Muslims—against our brothers the Copts, Aswani’s glaring exposure was nothing short of a harsh slap on the face. The author places the responsibility of healing the wounds squarely on the shoulders of the Muslim reader, which is exactly what Watani tries to do; to persuade the Muslim reader to understand the reality of the problem and to awaken the national conscience of this nation. I am glad this concept is now alive in the writings of many Egyptian intellectuals and thinkers.
I am in no position to critically assess this novel as I am no literary critic, but I would like to highlight a few significant scenes, specifically those concerned with one of the heroes of the story, a Coptic immigrant to the US, Karam Doss.
The tyranny and oppression
Doss is a 60-year-old cardiologist, “one of the most talented cardiologists in Chicago,” according to Professor Dr Graham. An athletic figure with white hair and features that are very obviously Coptic, Doss says he earned his medical degree at Ain-Shams University in Cairo, but fled Egypt to escape “the tyranny and oppression”. Nagy Abdel-Samad, an Egyptian who is doing graduate studies in Chicago, finds the expression overly harsh. “All Egyptians suffer from tyranny and oppression,” he retorts. “There is a big Egyptian problem and the sufferings of the Copts are part of it.”
Doss replies aggressively: “It is very easy for you to say that everything is all right; can you deny that there is a Coptic problem? The Copts are being kept out of leading positions in the country. They are being oppressed and killed. Haven’t you heard about al-Kosheh? Twenty Copts were killed in front of the police, and not one policeman lifted a finger to stop it. Your denial is a typical Egyptian trait; burying your head in the sand, just accepting and giving in to the system.”
“I can’t believe that you, an Egyptian, could say such a thing about your country,” Abdel-Samad says.
“Being Egyptian doesn’t blind me to my country’s faults but you, you consider repeating such lies a patriotic duty,” Doss answers back.
Rejected
During Doss’s student days, the head of the general surgery department was Abdel-Fattah Balbaa, a fanatical Muslim who was very open about his hatred of Christians. He believed that teaching Christians to perform surgery was wrong under Islam, since it allowed them to control the lives and bodies of Muslims. He was notorious for addressing Copts as khawaga, implying they were foreigners, not natives. When Doss failed his exams for the second time even though he was sure he had answered brilliantly, he went to Balbaa to enquire about the matter. “Even if all your answers are correct, Balbaa said, passing exams is not enough to succeed. We choose those who deserve to get the degrees. Quite honestly, you were appointed here in the department before I became head, and if it were up to me I would never have approved. You will never be a surgeon, not as long as I am department head.”
“You are unfair to me because I’m a Copt,” Doss bitterly said.
Balbaa gave him a stern look and said: “This meeting is over.”
That night Doss could not sleep. In the morning he went to the US embassy and picked up some immigration papers.
All through 30 years in the US Doss never forgets Egypt. “All my successes and accomplishments have felt empty and incomplete,” he says. “I am now a very well known heart surgeon, but I approached Ain-Shams University offering to perform free operations for one month every year. I wanted to help destitute patients. More than that, I presented them with a project to erect an up-to-date surgical unit which wouldn’t have cost them a penny, since I would have got funding through my university contacts. No one [from Ain Shams] replied, and when I called the dean he thanked me but said my project could not be done at present.” The sense of being rejected by his alma mater leaves a stinging bitterness.
Justice
The final, poignant scene in Doss’s story comes at the end of a long, trying day at work. As he prepares to leave his clinic and go home a fax arrives.
“From the Minister of Higher Education in Egypt
To Dr Karam Doss professor of open heart surgery, North Western University.
We have a seriously sick professor who desperately needs open heart surgery. Please urgently inform us of the feasibility of such an operation so as to take all the necessary measures.
Patient’s name: Dr Abdel-Fattah Mohamed Balbaa.”
Doss stares at the fax in utter disbelief, and says to himself: “This is God’s work, revoking the injustice. This is the man who said I would never be a surgeon, the one who forced me to live in self-exile. Now he is sick and dying, begging me to save his life!” Doss’s first impulse is to write a quick apology, and his apology would be cold and haughty. He would simply say that his calendar is full and he has no room for more patients.
Suddenly he gets up and walks towards a crucifix in a corner. He kneels down and starts praying: “Our father, which art in heaven, blessed be thy name….”, his eyes close for a few precious moments. Then gets up and writes his reply: “Dr Balbaa was my teacher during my post graduate studies at Ain-Shams University’s Faculty of Medicine. I will do my best to save his life. There will be no surgery charges, only the hospital accommodation as I will waive my fees in honour of my professor.”
Join hands
Even though the story tormented my conscience and bruised my humanity, it comforted me to find Muslim thinkers and intellectuals, including Aswani, who are willing to carry the burden of calling for full citizenship rights for all Egyptians. Now is the time to join hands and walk down the long, dark tunnel carrying torches of enlightenment, for at the end of the tunnel we will find the light of brotherhood, safety and love.