Free Utopia by Ahmed Khaled Towfik Page B

disappeared because the state wiped its hands completely of its responsibility for them, and privatised everything. There was no longer a government, or no longer a government that cared about us. Eventually, salaries were halted, and services were halted, and the police melted away. Consequently, we are no longer taxed.
    ‘Your parents were from a class that could use its influence toget rich: bank accounts abroad, loans from banks, monopolies. Everything played into the hands of your fathers and against us, all down the line. So your class was able to stick together, and its wealth expanded, while we fell into the abyss.
    ‘Then living with us became an impossible matter, so your class was forced to isolate itself, seeking safety in those settlements along the North Coast. They employed Marines because they could guarantee their loyalty, unlike the loyalty of their wretched bodyguards. The idea that this ocean of poverty would rise up used to keep them awake at night. Since the dawn of time, all popular revolts have begun with slaughtering the rich.
    ‘And now two societies have formed: one of them owns everything and the other owns nothing. The second society is only important as a consumer market, nothing more. Even if it suffers poverty, the density of its population makes everything possible. If each one of us buys one olive, then the olive-seller will become a millionaire.’
    Then he stopped eating, and asked me, ‘Do you have Israelis in Utopia?’
    ‘A lot,’ I replied. ‘Some of my best friends are.’
    ‘That’s an important characteristic with your people,’ he said, as he resumed chewing. ‘They’ve assumed their position in the new Middle East they used to talk about. The triangle that Israel dreamed so much about – Gulf money (before it dried up), Israeli know-how, and cheap Egyptian manual labour. We, the poor, haven’t stopped thinking of Israel as an enemy.’
    Angry from all this lecturing, I said: ‘Why would I consider Israel an enemy? Just to make you happy?’
    He looked at the girl, exchanging a feeble smile, and said, ‘Go to sleep now. Sleep. You don’t know the half of what I know.And the other half you aren’t interested in knowing. Sleep, and in the morning we’ll see how you can get out of here with your ears still on.’
    Then he said urgently, ‘I’m not kidding. They know where I live, and they will come back here when the effect of the phlogistine wears off. When that happens, I have to be here to protect you, otherwise—’
    He drew his finger across his neck in an unmistakable gesture.
    So we couldn’t escape. It wasn’t on the cards, not to mention that we were really exhausted. It was the most abominable night of our lives, sitting there stuck to each other in that foul-smelling shack. We didn’t dare stretch out or touch any part of the wall. Would we remain this way until morning? And then what? Everything rested on this guy’s plan.
    I don’t understand him: I think he’s a cultured type in an environment that isn’t his own. The sheep that thinks becomes a danger to itself and others. I’m considered a cultured person in Utopia. I’m one of the few who’s read everything that’s fallen into my hands, but that doesn’t make me feel one iota of sympathy for him. Culture isn’t a religion that links hearts and joins them together. In fact, it probably divides them because it informs those who have been wronged about the horror of the injustice they are suffering and tells the lucky ones what they can lose. It makes you nervous and wary. Not to mention that your cultural convictions can be transformed into a new religion that merits your death, and leads you to consider others as unbelievers.
    Gaber’s snoring had begun to grow loud as he lay in the corner, curled up in a ball.
    What does he want from life? Why does he go on living?
    If I threatened him with a knife, he would shout and kick my hand. Why?
    In the faint light, his sister, half-asleep,