What 'Isa ibn Hisham Told Us. Muhammad al-Muwaylihi
give me my charge. You know me on this beat and realize that I’m not one to argue or pick a quarrel for nothing.
PĀSHĀ Guard, take this insolent wretch and lock him up in prison till someone brings you my orders concerning him.
POLICEMAN (to the Donkeyman) Tell me, Mursī, from where did this man ride with you?
DONKEYMAN From the Imam district.
PĀSHĀ Why are you being so slow about carrying out my instructions? Take him to prison at once!
POLICEMAN (with a scoff) My dear fellow, it seems to me you must be from the lunatic asylum in the Imām district. Come to the station with me. Your scruffy clothing makes it quite clear that you’re penniless and cannot pay the charge.
2.6
ʿĪsā ibn Hishām said: The Policeman dragged my companion along by the arm. The Pāshā almost collapsed in astonishment; he had no clue about what he was doing. The Policeman handed the fruit and other things he was holding to the man whom the Donkeyman had asked to take care of his donkey. My companion was dragged along to the police station on the Policeman’s arm. The Donkeyman followed behind them and the crowd came along at their heels.
They all reached the station and climbed the steps. At this point, the Donkeyman started yelling and screaming again. One of the policemen on duty came up and hit him; he had to quiet him down because the Precinct Adjutant was sound asleep. He went into the Sergeant-Major’s room to enter the charge, but found him there with his pen in his ear, eating; he had taken off his tarboosh, removed his shoes, and undone the buttons on his uniform. At his side were two peasants whom I presumed to be relatives of his; they were seeing for themselves the enjoyable way he could exercise his influence in the country’s capital city and seat of government, the extensive authority which he had over people whether important or of little significance, and the power he had to imprison anyone, whoever he might be, and to use whatever testimony took his fancy as evidence against accused people.
At this point we were all ejected from the room until he had finished eating, so we went outside in the hall to wait. The Pāshā was so distressed that he needed somewhere to lean against. He propped himself up against the wall, but unfortunately his hand gave way and he fell right on top of a policeman out of uniform who was sweeping the floor. This policeman started cursing and swearing, then rushed into the Sergeant-Major’s office and told him that the accused person against whom the Donkeyman was bringing a charge had assaulted him “during the course of the execution of his duties” and had kicked him. The Sergeant-Major ordered the Pāshā to be brought in, called for his police clerk, and told him to take a statement for an infraction charge and another for a misdemeanor. He dictated some technical jargon to him, but I didn’t understand a single word of it.
The Policeman whom we had accompanied to the station gave his evidence on the infraction which helped the Donkeyman substantiate his charge, and then the Sergeant-Major himself testified on the misdemeanor charge that he had seen the accused assault one of the station personnel during the course of his duties. The two charges were thus completed. The Sergeant-Major then gave orders for the accused to be taken to the measuring-beam and his identification dossier to be drawn up. The Policeman who had brought the charge against the Pāshā came up, took my companion by the right arm and carried out the order himself, subjecting the Pāshā to all manner of pain in the process of measuring him. While all this was going on, the Pāshā looked like someone who has just fainted from sheer bafflement and distress. But eventually, when he had roused himself a little from his stupefaction, he turned to me and said:
2.7
PĀSHĀ I can only imagine from the situation I’m in that today is Judgment Day itself, that I’m dreaming, or else that His Mighty Excellency is so furious with me that he has given orders that I be humiliated in this dire fashion.
ʿĪSĀ The only thing you can do is to resign yourself and be patient till we can escape safely from this misfortune.
POLICEMAN (to ʿĪsā ibn Hishām, after he has placed the measuring beam on the accused’s head) Look at the scale, Sir, and read off the number.
2.8
ʿĪsā ibn Hishām said: Once I had done that, he took my friend to the office secretary to put together the Pāshā’s identification dossier. The secretary asked him whether he had anyone to stand bail for him. I put myself forward as surety for him, but they wouldn’t accept my offer without verification from the Shaykh of the Quarter. I was at a loss as to what to do; where could I find the Shaykh of the Quarter at a moment’s notice? One of the policemen whispered in my ear that I should go outside; I would find the Shaykh of the Quarter at the door. I should give him ten piasters, he said, for verifying the bail. The policeman caught up with me, pointed out the Shaykh of the Quarter, and even acted as go-between in handing over the fee for the verification. When I returned to the secretary’s office with the Shaykh of the Quarter, it was to discover that the policeman, who had been inflicting the most pain on God’s people and had seemed the most eager to ensure that the Adjutant was allowed to sleep in peace now, was rushing to the door of the Adjutant’s room, shoving it with all his might, and going in. He shook the bed vigorously. The Adjutant woke up with a start to be informed that the Inspector had been seen entering the station gate. He rushed over to his uniform, put it on in a trice and rushed out to meet the Inspector. He stood there at attention, but unfortunately for him he had put his tarboosh on carelessly with the tassel over his forehead instead of putting it on the right side. In addition to that, there was a fresh growth of hair on his cheeks because he had not yet found time to shave. The Inspector glared at him, went into the room in a rage, and began to write out a report charging the Adjutant with contravening “standing regulations regarding dress and turnout.”
2.9
When the Pāshā noticed that the beating and yelling had stopped all of a sudden and witnessed the alarm and confusion among the policemen, let alone the actions of the Adjutant, he asked me what was the significance of this man whose entry had caused such a flurry of activity. I told him that the Inspector came to the station to inspect and supervise “conditions,” to look into people’s complaints, and to make sure that the actions of officials conformed with the demands for law and order. The Pāshā then asked that we go inside and bring to his attention the insult we’d endured.
We went in and stood in front of him. We found him writing his report. He turned towards me and asked us our business. But no sooner had we begun to tell him our story than he ordered one of the policemen to remove us from his presence. When he had finished writing the report, we saw him put it into his pocket. With that, he rushed away without bothering to inspect or supervise anything, apart, that is, from the Adjutant’s turnout.
When he had left, the beating, yelling, and general din resumed in every part of the station with an even greater intensity than before his arrival. One of the people who had been severely beaten and was in intense pain yelled out that he fully intended to make a complaint against the station officers at the Parquet Office. One of the policemen went in to tell the Adjutant what the man had said. Placing my ear to the door, I could hear the Adjutant talking to himself:
“What’s the point of this job,” he was saying, “and all the humiliation I have to suffer? God’s curse on the need to earn a living! Even so, thank the Lord this Inspector is English and not a native Arab. He’s much better than they would be. He doesn’t understand Arabic and knows absolutely nothing about the job. All he’s worried about is inspecting my tarboosh and beard. If he were an Arab, he’d have managed to find out what a chaotic state the court cases are in and the way the station officers break all the rules.”
2.10
He then turned to the policeman and listened as he told him what the man who was determined to complain to the Parquet Office had said. At this, he became even more worried and annoyed. He issued orders that all the suspects were to be imprisoned for twenty-four hours, including my friend, the Pāshā. I went to see the Adjutant and requested that he release the Pāshā after I had stood bail for