Salwa Dimashqiyah al-Saeed Speaks of the Wife of General Muhammad Naguib

This was not the first time I had gone to Egypt, for I had visited it before, for recreation and rest and to see our many friends there. This time, however, the visit had a special character, since I stayed as the guest of my brother Nadim — the first time I have been his guest since his marriage, and how happy I was to be with him.

My first object in this visit was rest, to recover my strength and vigor; but that wish was not fulfilled, for no sooner had I reached Cairo than I was met with receptions and telephone calls and found myself surrounded by a circle of friends grown to twice what it once was, owing to my brother's residence there and his many connections, widened by the nature of his work. So I might as well have thought myself still in Beirut, wrapped about with love and affection and with family and social duties, numerous and wearying for all their pleasantness. These gatherings and parties followed one another in an unbroken chain from morning until night: the morning call over a cup of coffee, followed at noon by luncheon, then tea in the afternoon, followed by cocktails and dinner; and very often this long, crowded daily program ended with a convivial evening stretching to a late hour of the night. And at every one of these gatherings, just as is the case in Beirut, we criticized the multitude of invitations and gatherings and grumbled at them, for the time and rest they take from us and for the exhausting preparations and the palpable material outlays they cost us.

But in spite of my sincere sharing in this criticism, and my conviction of the error of this change in the order of our social life and of our turning away from many of our essential duties toward our homes and our children, I would not have wished to give up these gatherings; rather I would have asked for more of them, for the opportunities they gave me to become closely acquainted with excellent Egyptian and Lebanese ladies and personalities who left in my heart the finest impression and the loveliest memory.

I found no difference between the company of the Egyptians and that of the Lebanese living there: all of them incline to simplicity, notwithstanding the rank and wealth many of them possess; the spirit of service to others and of honoring the guest is deep-rooted in their souls, attended by the utmost kindness and gentleness. These are things I felt again and again during my visit, so that I sensed a wave of pleasure washing over my whole being and filling my soul with delight and happiness, and I became a captive of their kindness and their affection. And here is a speaking example of the love of service and the hospitality that mark the Egyptian lady: —

I was once in the house of a well-known Egyptian notable when the talk turned upon this new political era, and upon the lofty qualities of that singular leader, Muhammad Naguib, which had enabled him to reach this high position. I expressed my regret at not being able to meet him and talk with him — whereupon Mrs. Munira Murad, a charming young woman related by kinship to the General's family, asked me, without any previous acquaintance between us, whether I should like to go to the General's house to visit his wife and make her acquaintance. Naturally I answered in the affirmative, with heartfelt thanks — but how could it be managed, when I was on the point of returning to Lebanon and had little time left? And how great was my astonishment when the said lady telephoned me the next day and informed me that the wife of General Naguib was expecting my visit that very afternoon! I valued her effort and her eagerness to do me honor. At the appointed time I went in her company, together with my brother's wife and Miss Saba Tuqan, to where the General lives — a very modest house, bearing not one trace of the pomp and grandeur that usually attend the houses of commanders and holders of high office. This house lies in the Helmiya quarter, about half an hour from the heart of the city. His wife received us in her small salon, furnished with the simplest of furnishings, and welcomed us with a sweet, natural smile, free of all ceremony and affectation. Her talk was modest and winning, bespeaking sincerity and love, so that we felt we were no strangers to her. And I noticed plainly that she pays no heed to this halo of glory that surrounds her husband, nor is she fearful of the dangers and obstacles that beset her great husband and to which he is exposed every day — and this by reason of her faith in a great God! For she believes in her heart of hearts that her husband is performing, with all sincerity and sacrifice, his sacred duty toward his homeland and his people; and therefore she is confident and assured that God will watch over him and protect him. She expressed this faith in convincing, moving words, so that we left her presence humbled and admiring, our hearts flooded with true faith in that genuine, unadorned greatness which has not been touched, and never will be touched, by the temptations of power or by its ornament and its dazzling outward shows.