Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name.
العبارة الأخيرة التى قالها فاروق لى: "ليس من السهل حكم مصر". ساعتها كنت اتصور أننا سنواجه كل ما نواجهه من صعوبات الحكم باللجوء للشعب, لكننى الان أدرك ان فاروق كان يعنى شيئا اخر.. لا أتصور أن احدا من اللذين حكموا مصر أدركوه, وهو ان الجماهير التى ترفع الحاكم الى سابع سماء هى التى تنزل به الى سابع أرض .. لكن.. لا أحد يتعلم الدرس.
لقد جمع بلفور اليهود فى وطن واحد وعدهم به و بهذا أراح العالم منهم اعتقادى ان هناك وعداً آخر .. ثمة شخص جمع الأوغاد و الخاملين و الأفاقين و فاقدى الهمة من أرجاء الأرض فى وطن قومى واحد هو مصر .. لهذا لا تجد فى اليابان فاقد همة .. لهذا لا تجد فىى ألمانيا وغداً .. لهذا لا تجد فى الأرجنتين أفاقاً .. كلهم هنا يا صاحبى!
I see murky visions of other gods and rival magic." That REALLY didn't sound good. "What do you mean?" I asked. "what OTHER GODS?" "I don't know, Sadie. But Egypt has always faced challenges from outside –– magicians from elsewhere, even gods from elsewhere. Just be vigilant."
And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Evidence indicates that cats were first tamed in Egypt. The Egyptians stored grain, which attracted rodents, which attracted cats. (No evidence that such a thing happened with the Mayans, though a number of wild cats are native to the area.) I don't think this is accurate. It is certainly not the whole story. Cats didn't start as mousers. Weasels and snakes and dogs are more efficient as rodent-control agents. I postulate that cats started as psychic companions, as Familiars, and have never deviated from this function.
Some Christian lawyers—some eminent and stupid judges—have said and still say, that the Ten Commandments are the foundation of all law. Nothing could be more absurd. Long before these commandments were given there were codes of laws in India and Egypt—laws against murder, perjury, larceny, adultery and fraud. Such laws are as old as human society; as old as the love of life; as old as industry; as the idea of prosperity; as old as human love. All of the Ten Commandments that are good were old; all that were new are foolish. If Jehovah had been civilized he would have left out the commandment about keeping the Sabbath, and in its place would have said: 'Thou shalt not enslave thy fellow-men.' He would have omitted the one about swearing, and said: 'The man shall have but one wife, and the woman but one husband.' He would have left out the one about graven images, and in its stead would have said: 'Thou shalt not wage wars of extermination, and thou shalt not unsheathe the sword except in self-defence.' If Jehovah had been civilized, how much grander the Ten Commandments would have been. All that we call progress—the enfranchisement of man, of labor, the substitution of imprisonment for death, of fine for imprisonment, the destruction of polygamy, the establishing of free speech, of the rights of conscience; in short, all that has tended to the development and civilization of man; all the results of investigation, observation, experience and free thought; all that man has accomplished for the benefit of man since the close of the Dark Ages—has been done in spite of the Old Testament.
...The queen's mocking laughter cut in. " This is your treasure, Lord Sheftu?" "Aye. The greatest treasure in Egypt—a maid whose loyalty cannot be bought. Whatever bargain we make, Daughter of the Sun, must include her freedom.
And Egypt ? What is Egypt strenght?her resilience ?her ability to absorb poeple and events into the pores of her being? is that true or is it just a consolation ? a shifting of responsibility? and if it is true , how much can she absorb and still remain Egypt ?
When you have half of Caironese in slums, when you don't have clean water, when you don't have a sewer system, when you don't have electricity, and on top of that you live under one of the most repressive regimes right now... Well, put all that together, and it's a ticking bomb. It's not of a question of threat ; it is question of looking around at the present environment and making a rational prognosis.
مشكلة الديمقراطية تتجاوز حدود مصر إلى المنطقة بأكملها، فالأوضاع الراهنة تبدو كأنها تُسلم زمام كثير من بلدان المنطقة إلى دائرة مفرغة ومفزعة. تبدأ بالأنقلابات العسكرية التى تفشل فى حل المشكلات، وتنجح فى تفريغ المجتمع من القيادات المدنية المؤمنة بالشرعية. وتنجح أيضاً، وهذا هو الأهم، فى ترسيخ مفاهيم إهدار الشرعية الدستورية، تحت شعارات فضفاضة من نوع "الشرعية الثورية" و "الحرية للشعب، ولا حرية لأعداء الشعب". وعادة يكتشف الجميع أن المقصود بالشعب هو دائرة الحكم. هذا النمط من الحكم هو السبب فى نمو وتعاظم التيارات السياسية الدينية، صاحبة التراث العريق فى العمل السري، وفى التنامى تحت إطار اللاشرعية، منذ أواخر عهد الأمويين وحتى الآن. وهنا تبدأ الدائرة المفرغة فى دورتها المفزعة. ففى غياب المعارضة المدنية، سوف يؤدى الحكم العسكري إلى السلطة الدينية. ولن ينتزع السلطة الدينية من مواقعها إلا الإنقلاب العسكري، الذى يُسلم الأمور بدوره، بعد زمن يطول أو يقصر، إلى سلة دينية جديدة. وهكذا. وأحياناً يختصر البعض الطريق فيضعون العمامة فوق الزي العسكري، كما حدث ويحدث فى السودان. الخروج من هذه الدائرة المفرغة، ضرورة.. والتواصل مع الشرعية الدستورية، مسألة حياة أو موت.. والشرعية الدستورية لا تتسع لهذا أو لذاك. فكلاهما خطر عليها، ومدمر لها، والذى يُفضل أحد البديلين على الآخر، يستجير من الرمضاء بالنار.
I haven't come to you only to take , I haven't come to you empty handed : I bring you poetry as great as yours but in anther tongue , I bring you black eyes and golden skin and curly hair , I bring you Islam and Luxor and Alexandria and Lutes and tambourines and date-palms and silk rugs and sunshine and incense and voluptuous ways
الخلاصة التى توصلنا لها بعد دقيقة فى هذا العالم هو أن هؤلاء القوم يتظاهرون بأنهم أحياء .. يتظاهرون بأنهم يأكلون لحماً و يتظاهرون بأنهم يشربون خمراً .. و بالطبع يتظاهرون بأنهم ثملوا و أنهم نسوا مشاكلهم ... يتظاهرون بأن لهم الحق فى الخطيئة و الزلل .. يتظاهرون بأنهم بشر ...
He stopped. She heard the intake of his breath. You are my country, Desdemona. Yearning, harsh and poignant and she felt herself swaying toward him. My Egypt. My hot, harrowing desert and my cool, verdant Nile, infinitely lovely and unfathomable and sustaining. She gasped. His gaze fell, shielded by his lashes. An odd, half-mocking smile played about his lips. You’ll never hear old Blake say something like that. She swallowed, unable to speak, her senses abraded by his stimulating words, her pulse hammering in anticipation? Trepidation? Remember my words next time he calls you a bloody English rose.
Is it possible that the Pentateuch could not have been written by uninspired men? that the assistance of God was necessary to produce these books? Is it possible that Galilei ascertained the mechanical principles of 'Virtual Velocity,' the laws of falling bodies and of all motion; that Copernicus ascertained the true position of the earth and accounted for all celestial phenomena; that Kepler discovered his three laws—discoveries of such importance that the 8th of May, 1618, may be called the birth-day of modern science; that Newton gave to the world the Method of Fluxions, the Theory of Universal Gravitation, and the Decomposition of Light; that Euclid , Cavalieri , Descartes , and Leibniz , almost completed the science of mathematics; that all the discoveries in optics, hydrostatics, pneumatics and chemistry, the experiments, discoveries, and inventions of Galvani , Volta , Franklin and Morse , of Trevithick , Watt and Fulton and of all the pioneers of progress—that all this was accomplished by uninspired men, while the writer of the Pentateuch was directed and inspired by an infinite God? Is it possible that the codes of China, India, Egypt, Greece and Rome were made by man, and that the laws recorded in the Pentateuch were alone given by God? Is it possible that Æschylus and Shakespeare , Burns , and Beranger , Goethe and Schiller , and all the poets of the world, and all their wondrous tragedies and songs are but the work of men, while no intelligence except the infinite God could be the author of the Pentateuch? Is it possible that of all the books that crowd the libraries of the world, the books of science, fiction, history and song, that all save only one, have been produced by man? Is it possible that of all these, the bible only is the work of God?
The fervor and single-mindedness of this deification probably have no precedent in history. It's not like Duvalier or Assad passing the torch to the son and heir. It surpasses anything I have read about the Roman or Babylonian or even Pharaonic excesses. An estimated $2.68 billion was spent on ceremonies and monuments in the aftermath of Kim Il Sung's death. The concept is not that his son is his successor, but that his son is his reincarnation . North Korea has an equivalent of Mount Fuji—a mountain sacred to all Koreans. It's called Mount Paekdu, a beautiful peak with a deep blue lake, on the Chinese border. Here, according to the new mythology, Kim Jong Il was born on February 16, 1942. His birth was attended by a double rainbow and by songs of praise (in human voice) uttered by the local birds. In fact, in February 1942 his father and mother were hiding under Stalin's protection in the dank Russian city of Khabarovsk, but as with all miraculous births it's considered best not to allow the facts to get in the way of a good story.
The life of Islamic philosophy did not terminate with Ibn Rushd nearly eight hundred years ago, as thought by Western scholarship for several centuries. Rather, its activities continued strongly during the later centuries, particularly in Persia and other eastern lands of Islam, and it was revived in Egypt during the last century.
Now because 18 months ago the first dawn, 3 months ago broad daylight but a very few days ago the full sun of the most highly remarkable spectacle has risen — nothing holds me back. I can give myself up to the sacred frenzy, I can have the insolence to make a full confession to mortal men that I have stolen the golden vessel of the Egyptians to make from them a tabernacle for my God far from the confines of the land of Egypt. If you forgive me I shall rejoice; if you are angry, I shall bear it; I am indeed casting the die and writing the book, either for my contemporaries or for posterity to read, it matters not which: let the book await its reader for a hundred years; God himself has waited six thousand years for his work to be seen.
A little while ago, I stood by the grave of the old Napoleon —a magnificent tomb of gilt and gold, fit almost for a dead deity—and gazed upon the sarcophagus of rare and nameless marble, where rest at last the ashes of that restless man. I leaned over the balustrade and thought about the career of the greatest soldier of the modern world. I saw him walking upon the banks of the Seine, contemplating suicide. I saw him at Toulon—I saw him putting down the mob in the streets of Paris—I saw him at the head of the army of Italy—I saw him crossing the bridge of Lodi with the tri-color in his hand—I saw him in Egypt in the shadows of the pyramids—I saw him conquer the Alps and mingle the eagles of France with the eagles of the crags. I saw him at Marengo—at Ulm and Austerlitz. I saw him in Russia, where the infantry of the snow and the cavalry of the wild blast scattered his legions like winter's withered leaves. I saw him at Leipsic in defeat and disaster—driven by a million bayonets back upon Paris—clutched like a wild beast—banished to Elba. I saw him escape and retake an empire by the force of his genius. I saw him upon the frightful field of Waterloo, where Chance and Fate combined to wreck the fortunes of their former king. And I saw him at St. Helena, with his hands crossed behind him, gazing out upon the sad and solemn sea. I thought of the orphans and widows he had made—of the tears that had been shed for his glory, and of the only woman who ever loved him, pushed from his heart by the cold hand of ambition. And I said I would rather have been a French peasant and worn wooden shoes. I would rather have lived in a hut with a vine growing over the door, and the grapes growing purple in the kisses of the autumn sun. I would rather have been that poor peasant with my loving wife by my side, knitting as the day died out of the sky—with my children upon my knees and their arms about me—I would rather have been that man and gone down to the tongueless silence of the dreamless dust, than to have been that imperial impersonation of force and murder, known as ' Napoleon the Great .
أي حديث عن العطاء الوطني يستلزم في نفس واحد الحديث عن الأخذ الوطني وأي مطالبة للمواطنين بأداء واجباتهم المجتمعية تستلزم بالتوازي اقراراًبحقوقهم الإنسانية فالمعادلة الوطنية لاتستقيم إلا هكذا .وماعدا ذلك هو ... لغوالخطابة الرسمية
As to the 'Left' I'll say briefly why this was the finish for me. Here is American society, attacked under open skies in broad daylight by the most reactionary and vicious force in the contemporary world, a force which treats Afghans and Algerians and Egyptians far worse than it has yet been able to treat us. The vaunted CIA and FBI are asleep, at best. The working-class heroes move, without orders and at risk to their lives, to fill the moral and political vacuum. The moral idiots, meanwhile, like Falwell and Robertson and Rabbi Lapin, announce that this clerical aggression is a punishment for our secularism. And the governments of Pakistan and Saudi Arabia, hitherto considered allies on our 'national security' calculus, prove to be the most friendly to the Taliban and Al Qaeda. Here was a time for the Left to demand a top-to-bottom house-cleaning of the state and of our covert alliances, a full inquiry into the origins of the defeat, and a resolute declaration in favor of a fight to the end for secular and humanist values: a fight which would make friends of the democratic and secular forces in the Muslim world. And instead, the near-majority of 'Left' intellectuals started sounding like Falwell, and bleating that the main problem was Bush's legitimacy. So I don't even muster a hollow laugh when this pathetic faction says that I, and not they, are in bed with the forces of reaction.
In Egypt: Under no conditions, under threat of death could anyone kill a cat. People were exceuted for even killing a cat accidentally. And when a cat died, the whole family, and probably their closest friends, went into mourning, the measure of their personal loss signalled by their shaving off their eyebrows.
Egyptians undergo an odd personality change behind the wheel of a car. In every other setting, aggression and impatience are frowned upon. The unofficial Egyptian anthem "Bokra, Insha'allah, Malesh" (Tomorrow, God Willing, Never Mind) isn't just an excuse for laziness. In a society requiring millennial patience, it is also a social code dictating that no one make too much of a fuss about things. But put an Egyptian in the driver's seat and he shows all the calm and consideration of a hooded swordsman delivering Islamic justice.
آه لو رأيت حقول قصب السكر العالي أو زهر الكتان في الوانه الأزرق والبنفسجي، لو رأيت الأطفال يجمعون القطن في جيوب صنعوها من جلابيبهم كجيوب الكنغر، لو رأيت اشجار الصفصاف العتيقة وشعورها مدلاة في القنوات الجارية، والرهبان عائدين إلى صوامعهم في الأديرة، ونداء المؤذن يرتفع عالياً في السماء الضاربة إلى الاحمرار ساعة المغرب، فهذه أرض يتجلى فيها الله بلا انقطاع
فيه ناس كتير أوي تخدمها الفضيحة وتكبر اسمها.. كمان الهجوم الجامد على الكبار يخليك تصدق أي حاجة على أي حد تاني.. لو جنب التخبيط في كام رجل أعمال على كام واحد بتاع سياسة, نزل خبر بيقول إن أمك بتشتغل في توظيف الأموال إنت نفسك هاتصدقهم .. فيه ناس الهجوم عليهم مكسب ليهم..ولازم يبقى غيه تنفيس
[Dialogue between Solon and an Egyptian Priest] In the Egyptian Delta, at the head of which the river Nile divides, there is a certain district which is called the district of Sais [...] To this city came Solon, and was received there with great honour; he asked the priests who were most skilful in such matters, about antiquity, and made the discovery that neither he nor any other Hellene knew anything worth mentioning about the times of old. On one occasion, wishing to draw them on to speak of antiquity, he began to tell about the most ancient things in our part of the world-about Phoroneus, who is called "the first man," and about Niobe; and after the Deluge, of the survival of Deucalion and Pyrrha; and he traced the genealogy of their descendants, and reckoning up the dates, tried to compute how many years ago the events of which he was speaking happened. Thereupon one of the priests, who was of a very great age, said: O Solon, Solon, you Hellenes are never anything but children, and there is not an old man among you. Solon in return asked him what he meant. I mean to say, he replied, that in mind you are all young; there is no old opinion handed down among you by ancient tradition, nor any science which is hoary with age.
أعددت قائمة سوداء بكل من تعامل مع هذا النظام خلال 18 يوماً من أعظم أيام جيلنا، بل ومن أعظم أيام العصر الحديث، تعاملوا مع النظام القديم واساؤا إلينا وإلى ثورتنا وقاموا بإهانتنا (...) هذه القائمة التي رحت أعدها لحظة بلحظة طوال الأيام الثمانية عشر التي أشعلنا فيها ثورتنا.. قمت بحذفها منذ دقائق، لإيماني العميق بأن الساعي إلى الحرية لا يقوم بتنصيب محاكم التفتيش للآخرين ولا يسعى إلى تصفية حسابات مع البعض سواء يعرفهم بشكل شخصي أو تضرر منهم في الإطار العام، وأن وصم البعض بآرائهم هو فعل ينتمي إلى نظام حسني مبارك بامتياز ويجب ألا نسمح لأفعال هذا النظام بالتسرب مجدداً لتلوث روحنا التي تطهرت بوهج ثورتنا العظيمة.
Morning" SUN That awakens Paris The highest poplar on the bank On The Eiffel Tower A tricolored cock Sings to the flapping of his wings and several feathers fall As it resumes its course The Seine looks between the bridges For her old route And the Obelisk That has forgotten the Egyptian words Has not blossomed this year SUN
A bare two years after Vasco da Gama’s voyage a Portuguese fleet led by Pedro Alvarez Cabral arrived on the Malabar coast. Cabral delivered a letter from the king of Portugal to the Samudri (Samudra-raja or Sea-king), the Hindu ruler of the city-state of Calicut, demanding that he expel all Muslims from his kingdom as they were enemies of the ‘Holy Faith’. He met with a blank refusal; then afterwards the Samudra steadfastly maintained that Calicut had always been open to everyone who wished to trade there… During those early years the people who had traditionally participated in the Indian Ocean trade were taken completely by surprise. In all the centuries in which it had flourished and grown, no state or kings or ruling power had ever before tried to gain control of the Indian Ocean trade by force of arms. The territorial and dynastic ambitions that were pursued with such determination on land were generally not allowed to spill over into the sea. Within the Western historiographical record the unarmed character of the Indian Ocean trade is often represented as a lack, or failure, one that invited the intervention of Europe, with its increasing proficiency in war. When a defeat is as complete as was that of the trading cultures of the Indian Ocean, it is hard to allow the vanquished the dignity of nuances of choice and preference. Yet it is worth allowing for the possibility that the peaceful traditions of the oceanic trade may have been, in a quiet and inarticulate way, the product of a rare cultural choice — one that may have owed a great deal to the pacifist customs and beliefs of the Gujarati Jains and Vanias who played such an important part in it. At the time, at least one European was moved to bewilderment by the unfamiliar mores of the region; a response more honest perhaps than the trust in historical inevitability that has supplanted it since. ‘The heathen [of Gujarat]’, wrote Tomé Pires, early in the sixteenth century, ‘held that they must never kill anyone, nor must they have armed men in their company. If they were captured and [their captors] wanted to kill them all, they did not resist. This is the Gujarat law among the heathen.’ It was because of those singular traditions, perhaps, that the rulers of the Indian Ocean ports were utterly confounded by the demands and actions of the Portuguese. Having long been accustomed to the tradesmen’s rules of bargaining and compromise they tried time and time again to reach an understanding with the Europeans — only to discover, as one historian has put it, that the choice was ‘between resistance and submission; co-operation was not offered.’ Unable to compete in the Indian Ocean trade by purely commercial means, the Europeans were bent on taking control of it by aggression, pure and distilled, by unleashing violence on a scale unprecedented on those shores.
Not one word was said by Moses or Aaron as to the wickedness of depriving a human being of his liberty. Not a word was said in favor of liberty. Not the slightest intimation that a human being was justly entitled to the product of his own labor. Not a word about the cruelty of masters who would destroy even the babes of slave mothers. It seems to me wonderful that this God did not tell the king of Egypt that no nation could enslave another, without also enslaving itself; that it was impossible to put a chain around the limbs of a slave, without putting manacles upon the brain of the master. Why did he not tell him that a nation founded upon slavery could not stand? Instead of declaring these things, instead of appealing to justice, to mercy and to liberty, he resorted to feats of jugglery. Suppose we wished to make a treaty with a barbarous nation, and the president should employ a sleight-of-hand performer as envoy extraordinary, and instruct him, that when he came into the presence of the savage monarch, he should cast down an umbrella or a walking stick, which would change into a lizard or a turtle; what would we think? Would we not regard such a performance as beneath the dignity even of a president? And what would be our feelings if the savage king sent for his sorcerers and had them perform the same feat? If such things would appear puerile and foolish in the president of a great republic, what shall be said when they were resorted to by the creator of all worlds? How small, how contemptible such a God appears!
...he was one of the great intellectuals of the 1940s who completed their higher studies in the West and returned to their country to apply what they had learned there—lock, stock, and barrel—within Egyptian academia. For people like them, progress and the West were virtually synonymous, with all that that entailed by way of positive and negative behavior. They all had the same reverence for the great Western values—democracy, freedom, justice, hard work, and equality. At the same time, they had the same ignorance of the nation’s heritage and contempt for its customs and traditions, which they considered shackles pulling us toward Backwardness from which it was our duty to free ourselves so that the Renaissance could be achieved.