The fascination of an Egyptian intellectual with Europe: Taha Husayn and France.

Egypt does not belong to the East, but to Europe and the West. Culturally, the Egyptians must work together with Europeans.

Taha Husayn. Mustaqbal al-Thaqafa (1)

IN A LECTURE DELIVERED BY TAHA HUSAYN in 1950 in the French city of Nice on the occasion of establishing the Chair of Muhammad 'Ali at the Mediterranean University Center, Husayn spoke about the relationship between Egypt and France since Napoleon's invasion of Egypt in 1798, and how this relationship had developed until it became a kind of scientific cooperation in the middle of the twentieth century. (2) Husayn was at the time the Education Minister of Egypt. In his lecture, he emphasized the scientific and intellectual superiority of the French, their intelligence on one hand, and the diligent execution by the Egyptians of French plans on the other. According to Husayn, it was Napoleon who managed to wake up Egypt from her long sleep. Unlike other colonial powers, Husayn claims, France "is not satisfied with occupying a country militarily. The French have always kept an open mind. They wish to learn about others for their own interest, but also to teach those whom they occupy" (Husayn's lecture, 49). Husayn enumerates the cultural deeds of the French during their two-year occupation of Egypt and their subsequent return to the country as individual advisors after the collapse of Napoleon's empire in 1815. He refers, for instance, to the foundation of the Institut de L'Egypte and to the many French scholars who have rediscovered for the Egyptians a neglected and forgotten history: The linguist Jean-Francois Champollion (1790-1832) deciphered the hieroglyphic language; Auguste Mariette (1821-1881) discovered Memphis tombs and helped establish the Egyptian museum; Gaston Maspero (1846-1916) discovered the Sphinx and published many books on the antiquities in ancient Egypt. Ferdinand de Lesseps (1805-1894) made the Suez Canal a reality and so on.

Although Husayn's lecture was meant to further strengthen the cultural and technological ties between Egypt and France at the time, it revealed the political naivete and shortsightedness of the lecturer. France was not always an honest broker in its dealing with Egypt as Husayn claimed. It is worth mentioning, for instance, that on the 17th of November 1869, twenty years before Husayn was born, the Suez Canal which had been constructed under the supervision of the Frenchman Ferdinand de Lesseps was officially opened. It is estimated that 1.5 million Egyptians worked on the project. In 1875 the Egyptian government was forced to sell its shares in the canal to the British. Egypt was in effect bankrupt. The 'peaceful cooperation' between France and Egypt resulted in nothing but disaster. Indeed this French marvel brought another invasion to Egypt on 29 October 1956 when France, England and Israel attacked Egypt following President Nasser's nationalization of the Canal.

So how did Taha Husayn form this very positive image of France and its people? Why was he shocked when the French government deviated from a path he thought was 'noble?' Husayn's perception of Europe, but particularly of France, is mainly derived from his encounter with a few European orientalists at the Egyptian University, later known as Cairo University, his stay in Montpellier, then Paris between 1915-1919 as a student, his marriage to a French woman who was his reader, and his subsequent visits to France until his death on October 28, 1973. But before dealing with Husayn's relationship with the French it is imperative to know something about the man, his background and the socio-political period during which he lived. This will help explain to a great extent the reasons for his admiration for France and everything French.

In 1926-27 the first volume of Husayn's autobiography, Al-Ayyam (The Days) was serialized in al-Hilal, and later appeared in a book form. (3) The text was dictated in nine days during a vacation in a small French town called Haute-Savoie. It starts from 1889, the year Husayn was born in a village in Upper Egypt, to the fall of 1902 when he leaves for Cairo to study religion at al-Azhar. It is worth mentioning that when Husayn published the first volume of his autobiography he was already an established professor of Arabic literature at the Egyptian University. Many things were troubling him. He was harassed in Egypt for publishing a controversial book on pre-Islamic poetry and was attacked in the parliament and by the press. On the other hand, his daughter Aminah, was now nine years old and had no idea about her father's past. She never knew what hunger or poverty meant. She was born in France where her father was still working on his doctorate. Then she grew up in Cairo where her father was a famous professor and chair of the department of Arabic. It was imperative for the father to speak to the child and tell her about his wretched childhood and humble beginning. (4) In a poignant passage which concludes the first volume of the memoir, Husayn acknowledges his debt to his French wife: "Ah my daughter. If you ask me how this person has become acceptable to other people's eyes, and how he has been able to provide for you and your brother a good life ... I won't be able to answer you. But there is another person who could.... Do you know who she is? It is this angel who is standing near your bed.... She changed my life. I was desperate and became happy. I was poor and became rich.... You and I owe this angel a great deal (Husayn 1973, 147).

The narrator of Al-Ayyam does not use the first person 'I' in describing his childhood, rather the third person 'he' and 'our friend'. (5) We gather that the child is blind and lives in an Egyptian village on the bank of the Nile. Cold, heat, people's movements, or voices, kettles boiling in the kitchen, women filling their jars with water are all highlighted. The only recollection of the little boy who was able to see at birth, but due to ignorance and neglect became blind, was the maize fence outside of his house and the distant canal. He is very sensitive and enjoys listening to the village poet and folk singers. But he resents the fact that he is treated as a thing, not as a human being. He has a wild imagination. He believes in superstitions and is afraid of darkness and evil spirits. Blindness restricts his movement and that hurts him a great deal. He is very self-conscious and is afraid to be ridiculed. That is why he never likes to eat in the presence of other people fearing that he might mess himself. Many years later, his French wife convinces him to change his habit. The narrator tells us that the little boy has an inquisitive nature and likes to experiment and that he has a very strong personality and strong will. His early role models are two folk heroes, Antarah, the black-Arab poet of sixth century Arabia, and al-Zahir Baibars, the 13th century one-eyed slave turned ruler who defeated the French Crusaders and stopped the Mongols from attacking Cairo in 1260. Both men had very humble beginnings but their achievements guaranteed them eternal fame. The boy's early education in the village centers on the oral heritage sung by the folk poets. Then it concentrates on the Quran taught by a wretched master in a traditional religious school. Memorization of the Quran becomes the goal. Eventually, grammar is studied and memorized through a long classical Arabic poem.

One should remember that Britain was the colonial power in Egypt at that time. There is no evidence in Husayn's text that education, or health in this Egyptian village has improved. On the contrary, the villagers seem to have been oblivious to the modern world. Children's mortality rate was high. People practiced magic and believed in superstitions. Ignorant sheiks became mentors in religious schools. Barbers performed the jobs of physicians. In a poignant passage Husayn tells us how his four-year-old little sister died, and how he became blind:

   The feast was approaching. The little girl was suddenly quiet.
   No one noticed her. Children in villages and towns of the
   provinces are usually neglected, particularly when the family
   is large and mothers have plenty of work. In those villages and
   towns of the provinces women have a criminal philosophy ... A
   child complains of something. His mother hardly listens to
   him. And what child who does not complain? It is believed
   that only a day and a night will pass, then the child will
   become better. If his mother takes care of him she either feels
   contempt towards the doctor, or is ignorant of his existence.
   She relies on this criminal knowledge, the knowledge of
   women.... This is how our boy has lost his sight. He was
   afflicted by ophthalmia, but neglected for a few days. Then the
   barber was called in. He gave him something that made him
   blind. This is also how his little sister lost her life.... (Husayn
   1973, 118).

Death visited the family again when an elder brother died of cholera in August 1902. The eighteen- year- old youth had already been accepted as a student in the medical school in Cairo for the beginning of the academic year. In order to become familiar with his future profession as a physician, the young man volunteered to work with the town's doctor when the epidemic broke out. But he himself became sick and soon died. The effect of the young man's death on his little blind brother, in particular, was horrific.

We don't know anything about the boy's sexual drive. But the meeting with a child/wife at one point indicates some stirring in the boy. She is the wife of the agricultural inspector who teaches him how to recite the Quran. The inspector is in his forties, while his wife is not more than sixteen years old. The teen age boy makes a point of visiting the inspector's house before class is scheduled in order to talk to the young wife. In his childhood too he had once befriended a little blind girl in the religious school. But beyond that we hardly have any information about his contact with the opposite sex in his village.

It is obvious from early childhood that Husayn accepted the values of his family and society vis-a-vis women. Crying is only for girls, never for boys; Egyptian women in the villages do not like silence. They continuously talk. But at a later stage in his life Husayn became the champion of women's education and would open the doors of Egyptian schools to young girls.

Husayn's family is patriarchal, religious and hospitable. There are eleven boys and two girls. The father, an early authority figure in the text, is the only bread winner. He works in the sugar factory as a guard. The mother is pious and works at home. There are always visitors and sometimes numerous sufis, who come from distant regions and stay with the family for a while. Everyone is happy to have them around and feels blessed to be in their presence. Like his parents other villagers are also pious, although at times their religion has hardly anything to do with rational Islam. They are very hospitable regardless of their meager means. Learning is quite significant in their lives although they themselves are semi literate. They value education and respect learned men. But we know that their ignorance is the main reason for Husayn's blindness. Yet we do not discern any bitterness against them in the text. The narrator seems to appreciate their kindness towards him. For Husayn's family and the rest of the villagers, the blind boy is a blessing from heaven. Everyone treats him kindly and encourages him to succeed in life. The narrator depicts a fascinating landscape of his childhood. Although his family is more prominent than other families in the village, they also embody many of the cherished Islamic and Arabic values, such as hospitality to one's kin and strangers alike, the firm belief in equality of all human beings, and the deep respect for learning and learned scholars. This will probably explain later on why Husayn's parents open their hearts to an educated French Catholic woman who becomes the wife of their son and treat her affectionately as one of their own, or why Taha Husayn himself becomes so revered, particularly in his village.

The second volume of Al-Ayyam was written in the summer of 1939 when Taha Husayn was on a holiday in Vic-sur-Cere in France and feeling quite wretched. He was being harassed in Egypt and was determined to escape from everything. This time the book is addressed to his son who was on his way to study in Paris. It was imperative for the father to speak to his son and make him aware of an aspect of Egyptian life which had vanished. "When you are tired from studying," Husayn wrote at the end of his memoir, "when you find difficulties in learning Latin and Greek, then you may wish to have a short break and listen to what I have to say" (Husayn 1973, 379). The book covers the life of Husayn in Cairo from the end of 1902 to 1906. We get to know about his humble room, which he shares with his elder brother who is also studying at al-Azhar, and about the poor, but vibrant neighborhood. Young women in this part of the city are hardly seen. It is a man's world. The life in the countryside seems brighter in comparison to the poverty and wretched condition in the city slums. Education at Al-Azhar is not much better than the traditional religious school in the village. The reformer, Sheikh Muhammad Abduh , seems to be the only hope of a possible change. But he is facing lots of opposition. Husayn attends the last two lectures of this prominent figure who soon dies in 1905. The other teachers seem to be backward and authoritarian. This will explain at a later stage why Taha Husayn becomes fascinated with western educated professors whether they are Egyptians, or Europeans. The young man is suddenly introduced to new courses at a modern university. He is allowed to express his own views and to criticize his own mentors.

The third volume of the autobiography was published in 1972 when Taha Husayn was eighty three years old. It covers from 1906 to 1919. It is not clear when and where he wrote the book, or why he kept silent for such a long time. (6) The third volume addresses neither his daughter nor his son. It describes his life at the modern Egyptian University, his studies in Montpellier and Paris, and his return to Alexandria and Cairo. The book concludes with a semi-philosophical chapter about the advantages or disadvantages of being involved in politics as an intellectual. Husayn reflects on his political dealings during those troubled years of Egyptian history and ends his book with a verse borrowed from a classical Arab poet asserting his total independence and freedom vis-a-vis authority of any kind. (Husayn 1973, 690).

As a student in the Egyptian University Taha Husayn experiences a different Egypt that he has not known to exist before either in his village, or at al-Azhar. Here he makes contact with Westernized Egyptians for the first time in his life. He also gets to meet highly educated women, such as the Egyptian Nabawiyya Musa (1886-1951), and the Lebanese-Palestinian Mayy Ziyadah (1886-1941). His first encounter with European professors takes place here. This preliminary stage of his life prepares him for his journey to France.

There are four Orientalists that Taha Husayn comes in contact with at the Egyptian University. It is interesting to note the reaction of this Azharite to these learned European men. First he is fascinated to hear the Italian professor Carlo Nallino talk to his Egyptian students in their language and teach them literary history and Umayyad poetry. Santillana's Tunisian dialect also intrigues him. The orientalist teaches the history of Islamic philosophy and translation. A third professor, Miluni, also teaches in Arabic. His subject is the history of the ancient Near East but he talks about new things that the young man has never heard of before: Babylon, the Assyrians and much more. A fourth professor, Littmann is a German. He teaches different Semitic languages and compares them to Arabic (Husayn 1973, 446-447). The young Azherite is thrilled to take his professor, Santillana, with him to attend a class at al-Azhar and to make him see for himself what kind of instruction the poor religious Egyptian students are getting. When Taha Husayn attempts to argue with his professor, sheik Salim al-Bishri in class, he gets rebuffed and silenced. A student in this old institution is supposed to listen and accept what he is being taught. But as Hausayn tries to say something his European professor touches his shoulder telling him softly in a Tunisian dialect: "Don't say anything. He'll beat you up!" (Husayn 1973, 448). It is fair to say that due to their kindness and encouragement, Husayn's orientalist professors have always appeared, not only in his memoir, but also in his other writings, as a shining example of scholarship and generosity. They have come to represent in his mind, many orientalists around the world. This view is certainly not shared by other Egyptians. Husayn himself tells us that one student used to make fun of him and of other students from al-Azhar for being fascinated by whatever the orientalist professors say in class. The unnamed student relegates this fascination to sheer ignorance and an impoverished milieu. Later we will see that a growing number of Arab scholars come to criticize Husayn for having accepted everything the orientalists said about Arabic literature and culture without the slightest hesitation. Some people even go to the extent of accusing Husayn of plagiarizing orientalist theories and re-writing them in Arabic. (7)

It is important then to remember that a highly intelligent young man, who was the first PhD student to graduate from the Egyptian University in May 1914 and to write a thesis on Abu al- 'Ala' al-Ma'arri, a blind poet from Syria and one of the most important literary figures in Arabic literature, will travel to a troubled France in the midst of the outbreak of World War I. But one must never forget that this intelligent and ambitious young man is also a blind poor villager who has a limited and conservative education in a country that had been occupied by Britain since September 1882.

We have no idea about his relationship with women prior to his departure. During his life in the village and at al-Azhar, he lives in a man's world. As a single and educated man he has very little to do with women villagers whose main task is to take care of the men and children of their own families. They are illiterate, superstitious and talkative. On the other hand, al-Azharal, though in the city, is a religious institution only for men. There is no opportunity, particularly for a blind man to meet women outside of its gates. But once Husayn studies at the Egyptian University in Cairo he has a chance to be introduced to a new type of woman, very different from those in the village. However, he does not tell us whether he has slept with a woman prior to his journey to France, or how he has gratified his sexual desires in Egypt.

Because of the war, Husayn's departure is postponed. Then he is sent to Montpellier on the 14th of November (Husayn 1973, 521). The exact year is not mentioned in the text; but textual analysis indicates that it was likely to have been 1914. Other secondary sources give different dates. Husayn travels to France wearing his Azhadte robes, but he changes them into Western clothes once he is on the ship (Husayn 1973, 523). (8) In Montpellier and during the month of May he meets Susan, his French reader and falls in love with her. (9) But he is summoned back to Egypt in September. The relationship continues to flourish, and the couple exchange letters. When Taha Husayn returns to France, but this time to Paris to study at the Sorbonne in December 1915, he meets again his French reader who has moved with her family to Paris. On 9 August 1917 they were married.

Why did Taha Husayn, along with other young Egyptian men of his generation dream of going to France and not to England in order to study? After all, England was the colonial master of Egypt for seventy two years. (10) It occupied the country in September 1882 and only in June 1955 did British troops did leave Egyptian soil. Usually a colonized person dreams of going to the metropolis of his colonizer. But in the case of Egypt the situation is more complicated. The French had invaded the country under Napoleon Bonaparte in 1798, but stayed only for a short time. When Muhammad Ali the appointee of the Ottomans became the Governor of Egypt in 1805 he pursued a close relationship with the French and sent many Egyptians to study in Paris. Educational ties with France were strengthened and continued to grow. Then the construction of the Suez Canal began in 1859 under the supervision of the Frenchman Ferdinand de Lesseps, and by November 1869 there was an official opening. For the English, the Canal was crucial for their fleet to reach colonies in India and other parts of Asia. Negotiations between the two colonial powers resulted in the French conceding Egypt to England. Thus began the English domination of Egyptian life. But the French influence lingered much longer. At a later stage many Egyptians began to think that in order to punish England as a colonizer and to put pressure on it to leave Egypt it would be better to send their best students to its rival, France. In this spirit, Sheik 'Abd al- 'Aziz Jaweesh, a prominent member of the National Party which opposed English colonialism, opened an evening school near Al-Azhar to teach Egyptians French. (11) Taha Husayn went to this school and befriended the man who eventually encouraged him to go to France to study.

It was Sheik 'Abd al- 'Aziz Jaweesh who put in his head this idea of going to Europe, but to France in particular.... The strange thing is that this idea soon became pan of his life.... He saw it as a reality.... Even stranger yet, the young man would speak about his journey to Europe as if it was really happening.... During the summer he would tell his brothers and sisters that he was going soon to Europe and would tease his sisters by saying that he would spend many years there and would have a French wife, an educated woman, not ignorant like them, living in luxury unlike their rough life. His sisters would giggle when they hear him say that. They might even make his parents laugh as well. But the young man would tell his sisters: 'Go ahead laugh today, but you will see what will happen tomorrow' (Husayn 1973, 473-4).

In his French lecture in 1950 in the city of Nice, Taha Husayn describes a long and established cultural relationship between Egypt and France. His description will partly explain why Egyptians have kept going to Paris to study and not to London, or Oxford. "It is obvious" he says "that Egypt has received its modern education system from France. But after England's occupation of Egypt the English tried to destroy French education in the country by all means. They failed. I have noticed that an Egyptian student who never learnt a word of French in school, once he gets the English baccalaureate he goes to learn French" (Husayn in al Kitab al-Tadhkari, 56-57).

One critic observed that the majority of Egyptian intellectuals who spoke enthusiastically about European culture and favored Paris and the French education were all born in the countryside: Rifa'a al-Tahtawi (1801-1873) from Tahta, translated the French constitution and wrote favorably about France and the French in his book Takhlis al-Ibriz Fi Talkhis Bariz; Mustafa Lutfi al-Manfaluti (1876-1924) from Manfalut, introduced European romanticism and translated many French books into Arabic; 'Abbas Mahmud al- 'Aqqad (1889-1964) wrote extensively on European literature, but particularly English and German; Ahmad al-Sawi Muhammad described to us Paris the city of light, the last two men are from Aswan; Mustafa 'Abd al-Raziq and Taha Husayn from al-Minya. Only Twafiq al-Hakim (1898-1987) comes from Alexandria. (12) It is important to remember that these men, although they were fascinated by Europe and particularly France, had a solid Arabic education, and wrote above all in Arabic. In his memoir Husayn points out to his reader that if it were not for his Arabic Islamic education and his enlightened Egyptian professors he would have been swept off his feet by European culture. Speaking of these great men he argues that "they have given his Egyptian Arab personality a chance to grow and to stand in the face of this torrential knowledge flowing from the Orientalists--a torrent that was strong enough to change this young man and annihilate him completely into European learning" (Husayn 1973, 453). True it was his enlightened Egyptian professors who helped him keep his balance between east and west, but I believe his semi- illiterate parents who made him go to the Quranic school and to al-Azhar had also played a similar role. Without those conservative institutions Taha Husayn would not have known the significance of Arabic as a language in his life and would have had lots of trouble knowing who he was.

What did France mean to a blind and poor Egyptian man who had no intimate relationship with the other sex and was very hungry for knowledge? His life in the traditional part of Cairo was both materially and intellectually impoverished. Transported to the city of Montpellier during the First World War the blind man is instantly aware of the differences between his new abode and his previous life in Egypt. In Cairo he went hungry most of the time. When he ate it was practically the same thing: bread and dark honey. But in Montpellier various meals were carried to his room during the day. The servants and the hotel owner always insisted that he should eat more than what he did. Although he and his brother had to share very little money their life in Montpellier was much easier than in Cairo. At the university Husayn would learn new things every day. His French would improve. He would even begin to learn Latin. He was also introduced to the method of writing and reading for the blind. But he always preferred listening to someone.

The sudden appearance of the "sweet voice" who read for him the poetry of Racine among other texts, first in Montpellier, then in Paris, changed his life forever. This voice would accompany him for fifty six years. "He felt he was born again. Since he heard that voice he never knew despair anymore. It was on the 18th of May of that year that he fell in love with life like no other time.... The voice accompanied him day and night" (Husayn 1973, 541-2). Susan whom we hardly know anything about, not even her last name, preferred to live in the shadow of her future husband. Did she actually get a degree from the Sorbonne? Did she work at all in Egypt? What did she do with her education? Did she put it only in the service of her blind husband and two children? Husayn always acknowledged his debt to her, but never told her real story. "No one made me love reading books but my wife. She made it easy for me to get to know foreign languages. My wife is more important to me than any other book except the Quran and the Bible" (quoted by al-Mallakh 17-18).

In his memoir Husayn described in detail how he dictated his doctoral thesis, and how she wrote it down and corrected his French (Husayn 1973, 609). But beyond that we don't know anything about this remarkable woman who seemed to have chosen to annihilate her self into his. Even when she herself wrote a book entitled Avec Toi after his death she was never in the center. Why would she marry him? Her family objected at the beginning. "What?" They asked.

   You wish to marry a foreigner? A blind man? And above all a
   Moslem? No doubt you're gone mad! Perhaps it was madness,
   but I have chosen a wonderful life. Chosen? Who knows? A
   dear friend said to me one day: 'You were meant to perform
   this task.' Another friend told me not that long ago--do you
   remember Marie?--'You have filled your life to the brim'.
   Yes. It is true I have filled my life to the brim. He once told
   me: 'perhaps it is more than love which is between us.' As far
   as I am concerned there was this great thing: pride and the
   belief that there was nothing to be ashamed of, that there was
   no suspicious , ugly, or degenerate thought which could
   degrade or hurt the person with whom I shared my life.... I
   had to struggle, of course, because of my decision [to marry
   Taha]. I was supported by an uncle whom I admired a great
   deal. He was a priest. He visited us to get to know Taha.
   Wandered with him alone in the fields of the Pyrenees for two
   hours. Upon his return he told me: "Don't be afraid. Go ahead
   and do what you wish to do. In the company of this man you
   could talk forever and soar to a higher sphere. But he would
   always surpass you" (Susan Husayn 1979, 16-17).

Susan did not represent all French women. Although she began her relationship with Taha as a paid reader she was very special and different. Moving to Paris at the end of 1915 Husayn came in contact with other women who contrasted sharply with his future wife. Paris as such did not make an impression on him at that time due to his blindness and poverty. He did not go anywhere. His world was very narrow. He knew his room in the hotel where he lived in the Latin Quarter and his way to the Sorbonne. A woman whom he paid took him to the university and brought him back. Sometimes she was kind, at other times she scolded him. Often she would not utter a word. She would give him her arm and simply walk with him, as if she was pulling a thing, not a human being. On occasions, she would say she could not come to see him and would send another woman in her place. But the new woman was very talkative and made him quite insane (Husayn 1973, 577-8). Yet he knew he could never be an independent person. He had to be patient with other people.

His French professors too were not all very kind. One of them made fun of his students who did not write well. He once gave him back his assignment and said to him sharply: "superficial. Doesn't even deserve any comment" (Husayn 1973, 583), a remark which Husayn would never forget in his life. No wonder why Husayn would say at the beginning of his stay in Paris that

   He was a stranger wherever he went. A stranger in Egypt and
   in foreign lands. It was because of this hateful veil that
   separated him from the outside world since he was a child. He
   would hear people's voices; he would feel people's movement,
   but he could not see them, nor could he comprehend what was
   beyond these voices, or movements. He was a stranger in his
   native country and in France (Husayn 1973, 594).

But this estrangement from the world at large would eventually lessen. Susan, the kind and courageous French woman would play the role of his eyes and would change his wretchedness into happiness and his darkness into light. Even Paris would assume a different form in his mind. Its bookstores, theaters, museums all beckon the blind man. At a later stage when Husayn had more money and came back to Paris as a distinguished visitor he professed that it was the city which he did not like to leave. In it his mind and heart were both nourished. He described himself as a city lover, but as a Paris lover in particular. (Husayn 1939, Fi al-Sayf, 92).

Speaking to the French in France is quite different from speaking to them in Egypt, Husayn tells us. Perhaps this is normal, he thinks. People assume two different characters, one at home where they behave naturally and the other in exile where they are forced to put on masks and behave according to their own interests (Husayn 1939, Fi al-Sayf, 77).

In Egypt, Husayn categorizes the French as either those who despise the Egyptians, or those who flatter them. There is hardly anyone who shows himself as he is. But in France the French who cannot visit Egypt, or have no special interest in the country are quite different. They are "candid, at times too candid. They exaggerate in everything, but not when they work. They are fond of contradictions" (Husayn 1939, Fi al-Sayf, 78). In their practical life they are "moderate, closer to conservatism than radicalism, even when they are radicals in politics" (Husayn 1939, Fi al-Sayf, 78-79). "When the Frenchman speaks he is more angry at his daily life, at the period in which he lives.... angry at the government, at the parliament ... because nothing is working properly, and because France is losing its excellent position in the world. He is angry at the republic, but does not wish the emperor, or the king to return to power. He hates socialism, feels pity towards communism. If you ask him what he wants he will tell you a lot, but you will not understand what he really wants. All what you get is that he is unhappy and uncertain.... But in his daily life he is content, performs his job always complaining, and pays his taxes with lots of anger against the government and the treasury" (Husayn 1939, Fi al-Sayf, 79). In short, the French are full of contradictions. "They hate war more than anyone else. Yet they are the first one to go to war when they are called.... It takes some time for a foreigner to understand them" (Husayn 1939, Fi al-Sayf, 80).

Husayn's fascination with France is not only due to Susan, the French woman who helped him become the leading intellectual in Egypt and gave him emotional stability in his daily life. There are many things about France that fascinated Husayn, such as the importance of education and culture in the country at large, the freedom of expression, the separation between religion and learning, the useful social work performed by the clergy, the dedication of scholars to their research, the generosity of wealthy men and women towards universities and educational projects, the emphasis on learning foreign languages and the attractiveness of a city like Paris which embodies everything that one wishes to have in one's life. Of course, it was through the eyes of Susan that Taha Husayn saw the French landscape. She was the one who read books and newspapers to him. She was the one who accompanied him to theaters and interpreted France and French life to him. Contrasting his Egypt through his own limited experiences there with this glittering France the result was quite obvious. Everything seemed to be superior in France. There was not the slightest questioning of an educational system which might be put in the service of the French empire and its colonial projects. Also, that other France which invaded countries in North Africa and Syria, bombed their inhabitants and attempted to eliminate Arabic replacing it with French, particularly in Algeria, was no where to be seen in Husayn's early writings. For Husayn, learning and politics are almost separate domains. "Scholars too, like other people are subject to national passion" he writes. "The difference between them and the masses, however, is that they attempt to reason. They hate to sacrifice knowledge for the sake of politics. But they hardly succeed" (Husayn 1974, Usbu' Fi Beljika in Min Ba'id, 74).

In his book Min Ba'id, or (From A Distance), a collection of essays mostly written in the twenties, Husayn depicts France as the place of learning and learned men. (13) He praises, for instance, men and women who have donated millions of French franks to the University of Paris and contrasts them with the wealthy people in Egypt who don't understand the value of their wealth and refuse to put it in the service of the common good. Speaking of the Egyptian university, which was founded not long ago, he scolds the rich and shows their lack of support to worthy projects. According to him, the war did not harm Egypt, but it did inflict lots of harm on France and its social structure. Yet the French were more determined than ever to encourage learning and learned men (Husayn 1974, Min Ba'id, 42-47). On a different note, Husayn compares the scholars of al-Azhar with the clergy in France and the rest of Europe. The first don't know any foreign language, their education is very narrow, while the second are highly educated and fluent in many languages. There is emphasis on Greek literature in France. In contrast, the Egyptians are totally ignorant of this branch of knowledge. Everything seems to be changing in Egypt except education. Egyptians do not know their own ancient history. The task is left for Europeans to re-discover it for them. But to mention England's role as a colonizer in discovering this history is particularly hurtful. Husayn is quite indignant when one scholar praises the English achievements in Egypt in an international conference, but he knows quite well that the Egyptians themselves did not discover the tomb of Tutankh Amon. He explains his indignation as follows: "I was depressed to hear praise being heaped on England, But I was very much under the influence of politics than I was an objective scholar" (Husayn 1974, "Usbu' fi Beljika", in Min Ba'id, 100).

On a certain occasion he criticizes orientalists for erring at times in understanding Arabic and thus suggesting false theories. Speaking about a lecture delivered by Louis Massignon, Husayn argues that, "in spite of their understanding of Arabic many orientalists like Massignon still make mistakes and on the basis of these mistakes they build their useless theories" (Husayn 1974, "Usbu' Fi Beljika" in Min Ba'id, 87). But these critical remarks are fleeting. The dominant tone is that of admiration and respect. Husayn's enthusiasm about the ordinary French citizen cannot be rivaled. Recording his memories of the barber of one of the ships which carried him to France he enthusiastically invites people to travel on board only to talk to this interesting man. The barber is conversant in politics. He analyzes France foreign policy with Germany, England, Syria, Algeria and compares and contrasts French and English colonialism (Husayn 1974, "Fi al-Safina" in Min Ba'id, 18-19). Husayn does not exactly tell us what the barber says. All we gather is that he is full of admiration for this ordinary French citizen who is very unlike barbers in Egypt. But the ultimate feeling of reverence is reserved for the French educational institutes, such as the Sorbonne and the Colege de France. For Husayn, there is nothing like these institutes in Europe, or America (Husayn 1974, "Paris" in Min Ba'id, 133-4). Many francophones will repeat these claims and adopt French civilization as their own without the slightest criticism. But in the interesting case of Husayn, mental colonialism did not rob him of his language. He continued to write in classical Arabic and was close to his Islamic sources although his private library, as one critic tells us, did not have a single Arabic book. (14) On the positive side, Husayn's French education made him question his heritage and sharpen his critical ability. But on the negative side, it made him turn a blind eye to the many faults of the civilization that tried to cancel him as colonized and liquidate his culture.

In a fascinating study entitled Adib (A Writer), Husayn describes the destruction of an Egyptian intellectual in France. The book depicts a portrait of a highly intelligent man from the countryside and his troubled life in Paris. (15) Here the traditional perception of France as a country of sin and temptation is thoroughly explored. Wealthy Egyptians went to Paris, wasted their fortune in one summer then came back bankrupt. Students neglected their work and spent their time with women. Husayn's ugly friend, even divorced his wife before leaving for France knowing quite well he would not be able to be loyal to her, but also to be able to get a scholarship from the Egyptian university which insisted that students must be single. In Marseilles, he fell in love with the first French servant in his hotel. Even after moving to Paris he continued to have an affair with her, but she ended up mining him. In a letter to Husayn back in Cairo, the writer with no name summed up the differences between Egypt and France as follows: "Go to the pyramid. You will notice the light air. Know that life in Egypt is like living inside the pyramid, but the life in Paris is like when you get outside (Husayn 1971, Adib, 151). During the First World War, many Egyptian students left Paris, but the nameless friend remained in the city. He wrote to Husayn who was already in Montpellier: "You do not need a Fernanda unless you want to be mined like me. There are many Fernandas around in every hotel, every city, every milieu. Be careful not to fall in their traps as I did" (Husayn 1971, Adib, 166).The nameless man, though a genius of some sort, became crazy at the end of the book.

Not many people appreciated Adib. In an interview a journalist asked Husayn about his favorite book. He cited Adib as the book he liked best, but that critics did not care for it. In Adib, he said "I described many personal things in my life.... I talked about my journey to Europe.... There is nothing imagined in this book. It is a collection of facts" (Quoted by Kayyali 58). (16)

Husayn was quite lucky that he did not end up with an adventurous Fernanda, but with a French Catholic woman who helped him become a leading intellectual. Yet the nagging question remains. Who is this woman who preferred to live in Taha Husayn's shadow? He never wrote about her in detail, except that she was a good wife and a mother, and that she was his reader and intellectual companion.

Sami al-Kayyali gives us a glimpse of this foreign woman who was loving, but also very protective. In 1932 Husayn had just left the hospital after having a minor operation. Kayyali, a Syrian critic, who was on a visit to Cairo and who was a friend of Husayn's went to visit him in his house. This is how he describes the encounter with Susan: "She received me with some hidden annoyance. But because she knew how much I loved him she allowed me to see him after some hesitation. She whispered in my ear not to stay long ... (Kayyali 99). But Husayn was happy to see his friend and wanted to keep him longer. "I apologized to Madame Husayn and told her it was not my fault I stayed long. She said good-bye, quite annoyed, having that Parisian worried smile on her face. She went back to blame him. And who knows? Perhaps she slammed the door that day in the face of all his visitors, friends, colleagues and students. Perhaps even in the face of his own relatives."

This is a very revealing passage. Only an Arab can understand the cultural comment here on the gulf that separates people in their attitude towards the treatment of a sick person. (17) The French, symbolized by Susan Husayn, believe firmly that the sick person must be left alone in order to rest and recover. Kayyali, on the other hand symbolizes Arabs, who believe that the presence of family and friends is essential if the sick person is to recover quickly. Emotional support is something vital in Arab culture.

One does not know how much Husayn was under his wife's influence in other areas. She refers to him as a difficult person in her memoir, but she does not elaborate. "He was not always temperate, on the contrary, but that is another matter" (Susan Husayn 1979, 17).

On a different occasion Husayn is quite careful not to express his opinion clearly regarding differences in social life between France and Egypt. An important French scholar who worked in Egypt once complained to Husayn about his administrative work, and how it prevented him from pursuing his research. He went on to say that "in winter, scholars in Egypt immerse themselves in social life during most of the week. They waste their time and efforts. During the day they have to earn their living, and in the evening they socialize within their circle" (Husayn 1974, "Khatarat Nafs" in Min Ba'id, 272). The French scholar assured Husayn that in France people do not disturb each other, and that "if the professors at the Sorbonne, or Colege de France were to go to parties every night their universities would not have been the thinking brain and the throbbing heart of France" (Husayn 1974, "Khatarat Nafs", in Min Ba'id, 274). Husayn sees the matter differently. According to him, some French scholars and writers socialize too and are the center of attention. There is no harm in that, especially that there are many of them in France, but in Egypt they can be counted on the fingers. People need to have them around although it is tough on the scholars themselves.

Socialization is an important aspect of Arab life much more than in Europe. One does not have to be a professor at the Sorbonne in order to feel the urge to be alone. Unlike Arabs in general, Europeans prefer to be alone most of the time. Socialization is rigidly regulated and restricted. It is not clear whether Susan succeeded at times in minimizing socialization in her family's life. During her absence in France in the twenties with her two children, Husayn wrote her many letters. "He promised me many things he would not be able to fulfill," she wrote in her book. "He said we would make less unexpected visits to others- ah those disturbing useless visits most of the time that prevented him from work.... We were never able to control our private life as we wished" (Susan Husayn 1979, 49).

Egyptian social life is quite different from that of the French, although the French in comparison to other Western Europeans socialize more frequently. But of course, one understands Susan's concerns. Taha was not an ordinary man. Everybody who was somebody, but also who was nobody, wanted to visit him. She must have been weary of the many visitors who came to see him from around the world. She wrote in her memoir that it was impossible for her to remember all the names of writers, journalists, musicians, archeologists, diplomats, actors, painters and doctors who just stopped by. Some travelers even made a mandatory stop at his home in their itinerary (Susan Husayn 1979, 126, 128).

There were other hidden clashes between cultures in Husayn's life. Although Husayn was not well to do at the beginning of his career, he, as an Egyptian, felt obliged not only to socialize with his male friends in cafes, but also to pay for them. It is interesting however, to see that he had to write to Susan about this in his letters. "I have 3 pounds till the end of the month. But unfortunately, I go to the cafe ... for a glass of lemon, or a cup of coffee. I am not alone. My friends ... think I am rich. Frequently I pay for them. But I am spending less. Don't worry. I'll go less to the cafe from now on" (Susan Husayn 1979, 47). Paying for one's friend, even when you are poor is one of the cherished values in Arab societies. Pragmatism has no place in this matter. Money is not important. Husayn seems to have remained faithful to these basic Arab values.

To marry a foreigner is not an easy question. Susan's parents told her so. Husayn himself wrote against mixed marriages before he met Susan. (18) The sheiks at al-Azhar continuously attacked such a marriage. (19) Yet the couple had a good life for many years. Tenderness and understanding prevailed.

But did France and French policies in the Middle East and North Africa disturb the relationship between the couple? Husayn did not seem to be aware or concerned in his early life with what was happening outside of Egypt. It is only after the fall of the monarchy and the advent of the Egyptian revolution that many Egyptians came to see their fate linked to the rest of the Arab world. Husayn's wife too was quite oblivious to what was happening in Syria and north Africa. Publishing her memoir in 1979 when the political landscape of the Middle East had changed she wrote briefly about the trauma of the Second World War and her own anxiety at the fall of Paris. She worked as a volunteer with other French women to sew clothing for the soldiers of the allies. De Gaulle was in British controlled Egypt in 1941. He spoke at the American University of Cairo. Taha who was associated with the radio station of Free France received him (Susan Husayn 1979, 137-146). It was only when Egypt itself was attacked by the French along with the English and the Israelis that Susan stated her position clearly. "I must speak unfortunately about the Suez. I was torn apart. For someone who loved her country and felt obliged to say that France had no right to do what she did, was painful and difficult to accept. Egyptians did not change their attitude towards me. I did not hear one hostile word.... I was hurt and felt awful to have trusted my country- a trust which was always and will remain absolute" (Susan Husayn 1979, 191). Only then that her husband returned his medal to the French government, something that hurt her a great deal. She also referred in passing to the dismissal of the Sultan of Morocco by the French and the rejection of the French colonial power of her husband's proposal to establish a center for Islamic studies in Algiers. The Six-Day War in 1967 and the war of 1973 were also mentioned. An old interview with her husband in November 1945 conducted by Image du Monde was quoted. Husayn once said: "The war had ended with an atomic bomb, but left a time bomb in Palestine" (Susan Husayn 1979, 259). Beyond that, Susan's memoirs hardly touched on any burning political issue in the region where she lived most of her life. Her book is full of personal and colorful memories. There are numerous meetings with distinguished French writers, European intellectuals, kings, queens and diplomats. She and her husband had met them all.

The most amazing thing though was that Susan did not seem to have learned modern standard Arabic although she lived in Egypt for such a long time. She never read her husband's books in their original language. Yet she was a student of other classical languages in France. What did the couple speak at home? French? Egyptian colloquial? Nothing is clear.

But there is no doubt that Susan meant everything to Taha Husayn. He loved her and depended on her in everything. "Without you I feel I am really blind," he wrote to her once. Or "I am worthless without you" (Susan Husayn 1979, 93, 43). She too came to love him. Egypt did not make her happy all the time, but she loved Egypt and defended it against its enemies. Her pride in what her husband had achieved was enormous. On his deathbed she learnt that he was awarded the prize of human rights from the United Nations. While she was enthused, he felt nothing. "What is the importance of all that?" he whispered. Later on he would tell her that there were people who wished to harm him. "All people?" she asked "Yes," he answered. "Even me?" she was hurt. "No. Not you.".... "What a stupid idea!" he then retorted "Is it possible to make a blind man the captain of a ship?" (Susan Husayn 1979, 11-12).

Through Susan's eyes Taha Husayn saw not only France but the world at large. If it were not for his humble beginnings in an Egyptian village, his religious learning at al-Azhar and his acute mind he would have been swept off his feet. The encounter between cultures here was not always negative. On the contrary it was very productive and fascinating to probe. A good human being, in this case happened to be a French and Catholic woman, who was instrumental in helping a blind Egyptian Muslim man fulfill himself in life. Was their marriage preordained? "You had to perform this task," a dear friend told her once. Or "You have filled your life to the brim," another friend observed. "It is more than love between us," Taha also said to her many times. Husayn might have entertained certain colonized perceptions of France and French culture, but his solid grounding in Arabic and Islamic studies had helped him forge a new path for himself and other Egyptian intellectuals. He knew who he was and where he belonged.

ENDNOTES

(1.) Taha Husayn, Mustaqbal al-Thaqafa (Cairo: Matha'at al Ma'arif, n.d. Preface, 1938). Note that what Husayn means by the East is China, Japan and other countries in the Far East. He argues that the ancient Egyptians have extensive relationships mostly with the Greeks, the people of the Near East and the whole Mediterranean basin. Christianity and later Islam have come into close contact with Greek philosophy. Moslems have transmitted Greek knowledge to Europe. For Husayn, Kipling's famous phrase that "East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet" does not apply to Egypt. Egyptians should never feel different from Europeans. "Egypt was always part of Europe". P. 26. Note that the translation into English is mine. In an article entitled "Mustaqbal al-Thaqafa Ila Ayn," Hasan Hanafi observed that Taha Husayn was a victim of European orientalism and racial theories which were prevalent in France during the first half of the 20th century. See Al-Kitab al-Tidhkari: Fi Itar al-Ihtifal Bimurur Tis' een 'Ama 'Ala Insha' Jami' at al-Qahira, Ihtifal Kulliyat al-Adab Bidhikra Taha Husayn (Cairo 1998), pp. 65-96. Cf. the article written by Sati' al-Hisri in al-Risala, 11/7/1939 in which he also attacks Husayn. Quoted in Taha Husayn Fi Ma'arikihi al-Adabiyya (His Literary Battles) by Samih Karim (Cairo: Egyptian Radio and Television Series, 1974), pp. 115-121. This paper is a chapter of a book I am presently writing. The title is: A Discovery Voyage of Self and Other: The Psychological Effects of Colonialism on Modern Arab Writers.

(2.) See Taha Husayn, "Bina' Misr al-Haditha", or "Building the Modern Egypt" translated from the French by Hamid Tahir in Al-Kitab al-Tidhkari, vol. 1 (Cairo: 1998), pp. 43-62. Further references to the lecture are cited in the text in parenthesis. The translation into English is mine.

(3.) For the three volumes of al-Ayyam, I have used the edition of Dar al-Kitab al-Lubnani, Beirut, 1973 in Al-Majmu'a al-Kamila. All references to the three books are cited in the text in parenthesis. The translation into English is mine. Readers who do not know Arabic could consult Taha Hussein, The Days: His Autobiography in Three Parts, trans. E.H. Paxton, Hilary Wayment and Kenneth Cragg (Cairo: The American University in Cairo Press, 1997).

(4.) Note that Benjamin Franklin who began writing his autobiography in the summer of 1771 when he was on a short holiday in England wished to address his royalist son and the governor of New Jersey at the beginning of his book. Both father and son were drifting from each other. Franklin felt that he had to speak to his son and remind him of their humble origin. Similarly, Taha Husayn who began writing his autobiography during one summer when he was on a short holiday in France wished to tell his little privileged daughter about his wretched past. But unlike Franklin he concluded the first volume of his autobiography by speaking directly to Aminah, his nine-year-old child.

(5.) In his book, Taha Husayn Wa Athar al-Thaqafa al-Faransiyya Fi Adabih (The Influence of French Culture on his Writing), Father Kamal Qulta claimed that Husayn was influenced by The Confessions of Jean Jacque Rousseau when he wrote his menoir. Rousseau also used the third person in his narration. (Cairo: Dar al-Ma'arif Bimasr, 1973), pp.191-195.

(6.) Sami al-Kayyali mentioned in his book, Ma'a Taha Husayn, or With Taha Husayn, that in December 1965 President Nasser of Egypt had awarded Husayn the Nile Medal for his achievements. Husayn was interviewed afterwards by al-Ahram newspaper. He mentioned among other things that he still had to dictate his third volume of al-Ayyam. Unfortunately, Kayyali does not give the exact date of the interview. See Kayyali's book (Cairo: Dar al-Ma'arif, 1973), p. 199.

(7.) See, for instance, Anwar al-Jundi, Taha Husayn: Hayatuh wa-Fikruh fi Meezan al-Islam (Cairo: Dar al-'Ulum liltiba'ah, 1976). Al-Jundi attacks Husayn and describes him as someone totally under the control of a foreign wife and foreign scholars. He quotes many Egyptian scholars who are antagonistic to Husayn for different reasons. His conclusion is that Husayn has served the French and their interests in Egypt. Cf. Mahmud Tarshuna, "Surat Taha Husayn fi mir'at khusumih" (Tuha Husayn's Opponents) in Mi'awiyat Taha Husayn: Waqa'i' nadwat bayt al-hikma biqartaja, 1990 (Tunis: Al-Majma' al-Tunisi lil'ulum wa al-adab wa al-funun, 1993), pp. 57-93.

(8.) For a highly emotional description of this event consult Taha Husayn's booklet, Fi al-Sayf, or In The Summer, (Cairo: Matba'at al-Ma'arif, 1939), p. 24-28. Husayn tells us that his Azharite clothes have been given to a woman friend of his brother in France. He would have liked to keep them as a souvenir. At the beginning he hated his Western attire and felt uncomfortable. And for a week he regretted very much having changed his clothes. See pp. 24-25. Subsequent references to Husayn's Fi al-Sayf will be cited in the text in parenthesis. All translation into English is mine.

(9.) Husayn mentions the 18th of May as a special date in his life. See al-Ayyam 1973, vol. 3, p. 542. But in her book Avec Toi, Susan Husayn gives the date of her first meeting with her future husband as May 12, 1915 and says that the couple have always celebrated this day. See Ma'ak (With You), trans, from the French into Arabic by Badr al-Din 'Arudki (Cairo: Dar al-Ma'arif, 1979), p. 15. Further references will be cited in the text in parenthesis. The translation into English is mine.

(10.) Note that there are very few references to Britain as a colonizer in Husayn's autobiography. All are hostile and cynical. It was Sheik 'Abd al-'Aziz Jaweesh who first drew Husayn's attention to the extent of the collaboration between Britain, the Khedive and the conservative sheiks of al-Azhar. He encouraged the young man to attack tyranny in the press. See volume three of the autobiography (1973), pp. 417-18. Another reference to Britain mentions the rejection of that country to give Egypt full independence. Husayn argues that "Not only Europeans do aspire to independence. Egypt too, the African country, is rebelling just as the English, the French, the Americans and other nations did." P. 639.

(11.) In his article "Tunis wa Taha Husayn" Abu al-qasim Muhammad Karru speaks about the influence of Jaweesh whose father is Tunisian on Husayn as a young man. See Mi'awiyat Taha Husayn: Waqa'i 'nadwat bayt al-hikma biqirtaja 1990 (Tunis: Al-Majma' al-Tunisi lil'ulumwa al-adab wa al-funin, 1993) pp.15-56.

(12.) Kamal al-Mallakh, Qahir al-Zalam (The Man Who Conquered Darkness), (Cairo: Dar al-Kitab al-Jadid, 1973), p. 13.

(13.) Taha Husayn, Min Ba'id in Al-Majmu'a Al-Kamila, vol. 12 (Beirut: Dar al-Kitab al-Lubnani, 1974), pp. 7-225. Further references will be cited in the text in parenthesis.

(14.) In his introduction to Sami al-Kayyali's book Ma' a Taha Husayn, Al-Sayyid, Abu Al-Naja tells us that while waiting in Husayn's office he did not see one single Arabic book. When he later asked Husayn: "Don't you find any modern Arabic book worthy of reading?" Husayn answered him that he did indeed read the best of modern Egyptian writing, but that his wife knew only French. He himself read these books and write about them for Arab readers. P. 9.

(15.) See Taha Husayn, Adib (Cairo: Dar al-Ma'arif, 1971). Further references are cited in the text in parenthesis.

(16.) Note that Susan Husayn contradicts what her husband said in his interview about Adib. In her book Avec Toi (1979), she observes "It has been said that Adib is an autobiography. This is not true at all. Taha wanted to talk about an Egyptian, I believe he never met before both of them were sent to France by the Egyptian university. I have known this man when I was engaged to Taha and later when we got married. He was friendly and genius. The story is incomplete on purpose. The man got sick. He had to be evacuated back to Egypt. It was during the war. We knew he lived in his village. But we were not able to get any news about him." P. 294.

(17.) In her book Avec Toi (1979), Susan described the concern shown by Husayn's family, students and friends with tenderness. She did not express her annoyance that they were over doing it, or they were driving her mad. See pp. 77-78. It is important, however, to examine the viewpoint of an Arab (in this case Sami al-Kayyali) and see how he felt upon visiting her sick husband.

(18.) In his introduction to The Days (Cairo: The American University in Cairo Press, 1997), Pierre Cachia quotes a lengthy passage in which Husayn says "Many of us marry European women of Scriptural faith because we desire them for their beauty, their reputed intellectual and cultural attainments, and the like. But what is the result of such a marriage? Nothing but the transformation of the man together with his household, his sons and his daughters, into Europeans through and through-except in the case of a handful of unusual individuals, too few to take into consideration in formulating general rules." P. 5. Quoted from Muhammad Sayyid Kilani, Taha Husayn ash-sha'ir al-katib (Cairo, Dar al-qawmiyya l-'Arabiyya, 1963), p. 153. Cf. Al-Sayyid Tqiyy al-Din, Taha Husayn: Atharuh wa Afkaruh (Cairo: Dar al-Zini liltiba'a, 1978), pp. 42-44. The author mentioned that Husayn had aired these views on marriage in the journal, al-Hidaya, published by 'Abd al-'Aziz Jaweesh, in March 1911.

(19.) In her book Avec Toi (1979), Susan Husayn records a conversation between her husband and the sheiks:

--Dr. Taha. Are you married?

--Yes sir.

--Will you take your wife with you? [to Muhammad Abdu's commemoration]

--No sir. She is in France.

--In France? And you let her go by herself?

--Yes sir. She is French.

--Why did you marry a French woman? If it were in my hand I would have had a law forbidding Egyptians to marry foreigners

Sheikh Bkheet then said: "I don't understand the real reasons that made you marry a foreigner. You are a good Egyptian and a patriotic man ... how did you do that"?

--I met a girl, fell in love with her and married her. Had I not done that I would have remained single, or had I married someone else it would have been a mere show.

--I can't imagine what you say.

--We don't look at things the same way. Of course you will never imagine that (Susan Husayn 1979, 45).

Samar Attar is an independent scholar living in Cambridge, Massachusetts.