A gesture was made toward the secretariat and then the petitions were read out one after the other. Some of them came from civil servants, others from umdas.44 The voice of the person who was reading them out became as monotonous as the faqih14 who intones advice to the dead at funerals. In an attempt to concentrate, Isa closed his eyes. All the accusations applied to the appointment of umdas on the basis of party bias and gifts, and, in the midst of so much repetition, his concentration lapsed, melting into the darkness he’d chosen by closing his eyes, which felt as if arrows were piercing them through a red fog. His efforts to regain his concentration were thwarted then by something he remembered from early childhood. It sprang up in his mind as fresh and vivid as some tender plant like youth itself: he was coming home from a game of football in the open country around Al-Wayiliyya, the rain was pouring down in torrents, and the only protection he could find was under a refuse cart. Asking himself what it meant, he opened his eyes and saw faces wavering up and down; it looked to him for an instant as though the left side of the legal adviser’s mustache was connected to the right side of the State Council representative’s. He was asked for his opinion. What opinion? “Rubbish! All of it!” he shouted in fury. “I would like to see one piece of proof.” With this vigorous outburst, however, his energy was exhausted and he collapsed like a wilted leaf.

“The minister relied on your nominations,” the chairman commented, “so you were primarily responsible.”

“That was one of my duties and I carried it out in a way that satisfied my own conscience.”

“Is there any other criterion—apart from party bias—to account for the appointment and dismissal of umdas?”

“Suppose party politics were the criterion,” he replied, trying desperately to control his erratic breathing, his trembling. “Wasn’t that one of the mainstays of our past life?”

“Are you satisfied with the propriety of your conduct?”

“I consider that it was quite normal.”

“What about the gifts?” the chairman asked, playing with a Parker pen in his hand.

“I told you that was rubbish,” Isa retorted angrily. “I’d like to see one piece of evidence.”

The names of umdas themselves who were witnesses were read out.

“What’s the point of this vulgar intrigue?” Isa yelled.

Afterward, civil servants who had worked with him for some time were called in to give testimony, then his own signatures were shown to him, on authorizations for promotion of civil servants in exceptional circumstances, orders for irrigation and farming services, and recommendations on behalf of provincial criminals connected to party hacks by patronage or kinship. As time dragged on, things began to lose their color.