From the Fruits of Their Minds: With the Arab Medical Conference in Egypt
Edma Ghosn Medawar

No sooner had I decided to travel by airplane to Egypt on the occasion of the Seventh Arab Medical Conference, held there between November 14 and 18, than there flashed to my mind, faster than lightning, what I had read in an article by the educator Mr. Abdullah Mashnouq describing his feelings the first time he boarded an airplane, and the verse of poetry he repeated:

Set my feet upon the back of the earth, for I have found the earth a steadier back than yours.

So I said to myself: if such was the feeling of a man, what, I wonder, would my own feeling be... But I can assure the gentleman that in this situation I was steadier of heart than he, and not the slightest fear or dread came over me. Our journey to Egypt, which took nearly three hours, was delightful and exceedingly cheering for the enchanting views we saw: here the desert of Choueifat, there Palestine, and there the desert road like a black ribbon stretched across a dust-gray expanse. When I reached Egypt I began to feel its greatness, and that I was among my own kin and companions — above all at the opening of the conference, where the Land of the Quiver appeared in its most splendid greatness and glory: in the person of its great monarch, who sent his delegate to open the conference in his name in the spacious hall of Fuad I University; and in its men, the famous physicians, such as the Honorable Dr. Ali Pasha Ibrahim, founder and permanent president of these conferences, and the permanent secretary of the conference, His Excellency Dr. Mohammad Khalil Bey Abdul Khaleq, and all the physicians working in this field. The first thing that comes to mind at gatherings like these is the thought of the desired aim one seeks to reach. As for me, what I was able to study was the social side, for the medical side is far from me, and I from it — as far as the Pleiades from the dust of the earth.

How beautiful and pleasant it is to see our brothers from all the Arab regions gathered together in solidarity around a single goal: how to raise up these Arab lands from the standpoint of health, and of morals as well. And let it not escape our minds that these gatherings have their deep effect in cooperation and in tightening the bonds of familiarity among all the Arab lands, and in an understanding blended with the spirit of love and tenderness — the tenderness of a brother for his brother.

I cannot, as I told you before, describe the useful scientific sessions, but I take you always to the social side, and I say that the social program, whose arrangement was undertaken by an elite of famous Egyptian physicians, proved magnificent and very useful. Whatever I may forget, I shall not forget

the party given by the Ministry of Health in the theater of the Azbakeya Gardens: it was a theatrical program carved from the heart of life, its aim to teach prevention of the deadly contagious diseases and to teach the Egyptian woman how to conduct herself from the beginning of pregnancy, to childbirth, to raising her child in a healthful upbringing. This is what the venerable Ministry of Health concerns itself with; it has dispensaries throughout the Egyptian provinces, run by an elite of physicians and nurses whose constant care is to keep vigil over their duties toward this part of society and to raise it to the utmost degree of moral and social advancement.

I do not want to prolong the account by describing each party separately, for the pen falls short of enumerating the good hospitality and generous character we met with from our Egyptian brothers, as a body and as individuals; we can only thank them abundantly for their generous hospitality and their kind welcome, asking God to preserve Egypt as a treasure for Arabism and patriotism under the shadow of its exalted monarch, Farouk I.

I must also tell you about the Lebanese Legation in Cairo, and about my feeling — the feeling of every Lebanese — when he visits the Lebanese house, and about the joy and gladness that stir in our hearts when we see that we have become like the rest of the peoples, possessed of standing and dignity. The Lebanese Legation in Cairo is exceedingly beautiful, and it stands on the most beautiful street of the capital (Giza). It did its full share toward the conference, inviting its members to a tea party that was truly a national festival and succeeded brilliantly; and I assure you it was among the finest of the gatherings and festivals we witnessed during the conference. I cannot but note the credit due to our respected Minister, Sheikh Sami al-Khoury, and his virtuous wife, for organizing these pleasant gatherings, which draw hearts together and open the way to understanding and concord. Before the close of the party one of those present proposed that the Lebanese anthem be played on the piano and sung standing, and so it was; and I cannot describe the depth of emotion visible on every face — so much so that the head of the Iraqi delegation, Dr. Hashim al-Waqri, told me afterward that he was leaving the legation with his companions, and when they heard us singing the Lebanese anthem they all stood in respect, and so great was his emotion that he could not hold back a tear — a tear of feeling and delight, a tear of joy, the joy of a brother for his brother in the dignity and independence he has attained. Nor will the pleasant party at the legation on November 22, the feast of our independence, ever slip from my mind. It was one of the rarest of parties, and you could see people coming in droves — Egyptians, Iraqis, Palestinians, Syrians, Saudis... — making their way to the Lebanese Legation to congratulate Lebanon, in the person of our beloved Minister, on the national holiday, everyone feeling gladness and joy at the dignity and eminence Lebanon has attained. It has taken its place among the sister Arab lands and has become, as someone said, the beating heart of the Arab countries, which hold it in every fondness, love, and respect.

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