2

First steps in social work

In 1901, Huda was 22 and had been separated from her husband for more than seven years, since soon after their marriage in 1892, which had never in truth existed. Ali Shaarawi, meanwhile, was anxious to make the marriage a reality. Huda’s brother Umar was by now 20 and had already been engaged for two years to the wife Iqbal had chosen for her son, a lively Egyptian girl named Inayat al-Daramalli, the daughter of Abbas al-Daramalli Pasha. Umar, however, had made it clear to his mother that he would marry only if Huda returned to her husband, on the grounds that he would be reluctant to leave Huda to languish alone in the empty family house with only her mother for company. Umar’s fiancée was irritated by what she saw as his obsessive concern for his sister, which she regarded as abnormal. He hoped, however, that his obduracy might bring Huda to listen with a more willing ear to Ali’s pleas to resume their marriage, which were becoming ever more insistent.

Ali sought the assistance of family friends and of people in Huda’s circle. He went to Eugénie Lebrun, to whom he knew Huda listened, as well as to other persons whom Huda cared for, to plead his cause and beseech their intercession, approaching all whom he thought might have some influence over his young wife. Sultan Pasha’s old friend Zubair Pasha came to the house to chide Huda for not returning to her husband, and told her that rumour and gossip were beginning to circulate. He even coarsely insinuated that he was himself beginning to wonder whether her affections might be engaged elsewhere. This enraged Huda, who angrily retorted that had her father been alive, nobody would have dared talk to her as he just had, storming out of the public salon at Jami Sharkas Street to take refuge in her own sitting room. Shaikh Ali al-Laithi, of whom she was very fond, also tried to change her mind, although he retracted at once when he realised that she was genuinely distressed by the subject.¹

The general chorus of insistence that it was time to resume her marriage, together with Ali’s constant reproaches, began to make her feel depressed. She declared herself ill and malingered for two whole months in the summer of 1901, when Iqbal rented a summer house in the smart seaside district of Ramleh, in Alexandria, where Huda could shun friends and pretend to be convalescent. It was during this stay in Alexandria, incidentally, that Huda first began to shop for herself, rather than rely on servants to buy clothes for her, in a small blow for feminine freedom. She dressed formally, with her veil, and went out with Lala Said to one of the big shops. His fierce stares terrified the salesgirls, who inquired who this woman was and why she was so well guarded. After this, Huda continued to buy her own clothes until Iqbal accepted that the quality of the products and garments she purchased was better, and the prices lower, when she did her own shopping. After this, mother and daughter went shopping together, which became a regular habit.

Finally, Ilwi Pasha, the family doctor and an old friend, came to see Huda, reminding her that Umar was postponing his marriage for her sake. She felt she was being blackmailed, but airily replied that in that case she would sooner or later have to accept her husband’s overtures of reconciliation. Her ploy was to lay down conditions to which she imagined that Ali would never consent, stipulating that Ali must leave his first wife once and for all, as he had in the first instance promised to do. In a sense, this gesture against polygamy was probably the first political standpoint she adopted, without her being conscious at the time of its political character. She would not hear of being any man’s second wife, and it was this that led her to make the first in what would become a long series of political demands throughout her life.²

If Huda thought that Ali would never give up the mother of his only son, however, she was mistaken. This was precisely what he did. He had apparently become disenchanted with his ageing, albeit obedient, spouse and her complacent acceptance of all his whims. He admired Huda’s increasing sophistication and her straightforward manners, and found himself pining for her company. To her surprise, he accepted all Huda’s conditions, giving in to all her requests. Perhaps to his own surprise, he had fallen desperately in love with her, and admired her dignified and blunt rejection of whatever went against her beliefs. At the same time, he was well aware that if she agreed to return to him it would be because he had come to play an important role in the political arena and she would be able to use him to implement her own ideas for reform. From the first, Huda was pragmatic. She was, however, also conscious of family issues, and he was able to convince her that staying together would preserve the family estates and thus endow them both with enhanced social and political power. In 1901, Ali and Huda resumed their life together. Umar’s influence in the reconciliation had been decisive.

During the seven years of separation, Huda had developed into a beautiful, accomplished and personable young woman, well versed in both oriental culture and Western academic subjects. She had studied the Qur’an and religious sciences, as well as reading widely in French and Arabic history and literature; and, in the cultural realm, she had developed her knowledge of music and had become an accomplished pianist. In general, she had developed a clear vision of life and an independent mind. She had resolved to live the rest of her life soberly, not to fall prey to impulse and emotion, and to make good use of all the time she was to be granted. She knew, however, that in her married life she would need to compromise with her husband, who was powerful and himself a determined person. They were not likely to clash, as Ali appreciated Huda’s principled concern for the future of her country and for Egyptian society. The one disagreement they were to have, which came much later, was because she felt he had fallen below his own high standards. As for Huda, her own political and social activity had already begun, even before the marriage. As early as 1895, she had joined a committee for assistance to Turkey set up by Riad Pasha’s wife during the Greco–Turkish war. This had been Huda’s first experience in public life, and she had learned a lot from it, despite her young age.³

Once Huda had made her decision, Umar’s marriage could proceed. When Umar was planning the wedding, he came to Huda’s apartment one day to discuss the form it should take. His plan was to hold a simple ceremony and to distribute to the poor the money that would have been spent on an elaborate wedding. There was an army of the disabled and the destitute in Minya that the family had more or less maintained for many years, and Umar felt that money could be spent in more useful ways than in the celebration of a marriage.⁴ Huda, however, wanted her brother’s wedding day to be memorable, and argued that Umar was wealthy enough to hold a spectacular ceremony and still give charity in other ways. In the event, Umar followed her advice, and his lavish wedding was an unforgettable event. An article by the poet Khalil Mutran, one of Umar’s guests, writing in the magazine Al Majalla al-Misria testifies to the enchantment of the three full days and nights of celebration.

For the resumption of his married life with Huda, Ali Shaarawi built a magnificent new town house at 2 Qasr al-Nil, at the junction of that street and another of Cairo’s principal thoroughfares, Champollion Street, in the heart of Cairo, scarcely a step from the old Sultan family mansion in Jami Sharkas Street. The new house stood opposite the Egyptian Museum built by Mariette Pasha, and faced the Qasr al-Nil Palace, which had become the British military barracks.⁵ It was built in the style of the time, Art Nouveau. Ali also spent much time in Minya, and he built another mansion there. His hope was to persuade his new wife to take up residence with him in Minya to help him manage the land, creating a new life for them both in Upper Egypt. The house in Minya was as attractive as he could make it, and was surrounded by an enchanting garden. The stately sitting rooms, with their gigantic crystal chandeliers, tall mirrors with gilt frames, golden furniture and boundless Persian carpets contrasted with the cosy comfort and simplicity of the upper-floor bedrooms and bathrooms. Huda’s bathroom was full of light, with coloured cups of glass embedded in the stucco decorations of the ceiling that let in vivacious beams of light and colours that filled the room with an atmosphere that was dreamy but bright. It was an architectural tour de force, towering above an isolated village known as Bani Muhammad Shaarawi, in the Mansafis area some 16 kilometres to the south of Minya, where the fellaheen lived on the doorstep of the Pasha’s mansion.

During the first months following Huda’s return to her husband, she did indeed spend some time in Minya. She focused her attention on the plight of the rural poor, and resolved to work to improve their situation. Much could be done to improve their life, she was sure. The rigid customs and social barriers of Upper Egyptian society, however, made it difficult for her to get to grips in detail with the situation of the people. As the lady of the manor, she was impeded by social tenets, and found it hard to approach them. In the end, small-scale charity at close quarters presented excessive difficulties. Huda concluded that the task was hopeless and decided that her field of action had to be Cairo, where reform was feasible. In Cairo, after all, she could enlist the support and goodwill of influential people, including many members of the royal family. In any case, when Huda became pregnant shortly after the resumption of her marital life, the die was cast. She felt it was incumbent on her to return to Cairo to obtain the care she required for herself and her unborn child.

Two children were born to Ali and Huda in the space of three years. Their daughter, whom they called Bassna, was born in 1903, and she was followed in 1906 by a son, Muhammad. The children kept Huda busy for some years, as she was resolved to care for them as far as possible herself, though of course she also employed a nanny. Bassna was sickly, as Huda’s brother Umar had been as a child, and Huda became an apprehensive mother who gave all her attention to the children. She soon became entirely absorbed in her new role in life. An alarming accident, when a fire surprised her little family aboard a Nile boat in Cairo, only served to add to her concern. The boat was moored to a dock, so that she and Ali were able to save the children and themselves, but she was conscious of how lucky they had been. During the incident, she was shocked by the indifference of the bystanders to her family’s narrow escape.⁶

In the years when her children were small, she often travelled with them, her mother and Jazb Ashiq to Istanbul, where the two women liked to spend their holidays. Iqbal’s Circassian brothers, Yusuf and Ahmed Idris, were still resident in the same little seaport town of Bandirma where they had originally settled. Like other Circassians at the turn of the century, they had made themselves at home in Turkey, and by now they spoke Turkish even between themselves. The whole family, the Cairene visitors and the Circassian uncles, went sometimes to the Princes’ Islands in the Sea of Marmara, where the Sultan family’s friends, the Khulusis, owned a summer house on the island of Kinali.⁷

The occasion for one protracted stay in Istanbul in these early years was Bassna’s poor health. The doctors advised Huda to take her out of Egypt in the summer for a change of air and for medical treatment. Though Huda wanted to go to Europe, Ali would not let her take the child further afield than Turkey, though she threatened that should anything happen to Bassna she would blame him for it and would separate from him again, this time forever. She became so emotional about her daughter’s welfare that she refused to be parted from her even for the briefest period. When Huda brought Bassna back to Cairo from Turkey, however, there had been no change in the little girl’s condition. Fortunately, Eugénie Lebrun called in a French specialist to whom she had described the case, and he diagnosed malaria. The correct treatment was then followed, and the little girl gradually regained her health.⁸

Huda had so far not clearly defined a political role for herself, and such public activity as she became involved in was mainly through her brother and her husband. Both Umar and Ali derived their influence from their positions in society and their immense fortunes, but their credibility was enhanced by the fact that both men were transparently honest, and their plans showed evident common sense. Each was prepared when necessary to reach into his pocket to provide funds for projects conducive to the national good. Each also provided financial support to the politicians who served the causes in which they believed. Umar was an important financial backer of Mustapha Kamil’s National Party (al-Hizb al-Watani), originally launched in 1894, and of his Arabic and French newspapers, Al-Liwa and L’Etendard Egyptien (Egyptian Standard), which Kamil set up in 1900. He was intellectually and emotionally involved with the National Party, and vigorously supported Kamil, who had become a national hero. Kamil’s overriding goal was to bring about the departure of the British from Egypt, and his interest in social reform, including the early stirrings of feminist ideas, was less strong. Through Umar, who had gained entry to elevated social and intellectual circles in France, Kamil had met the Republican writer and publisher Juliette Adam, in whom he confided, and who came to view him like a son. He wrote her a moving open letter, asking for her support in his struggle against British occupation, which she published in the French press.

For Kamil, the enemy was Lord Cromer, who was in effect the head of the British administration in Egypt. Cromer dealt with the Egyptian opposition by ‘giving it a deadly blow’,⁹ to use his own words. In 1904, Kamil asked how a man whose own country throve on freedom, whose government claimed that it honoured freedom and placed it above all other things, could boast of ‘having dealt a deadly blow’ to the opposition, meaning freedom itself, in Egypt? Nothing, he declaimed, could bring the Egyptians to renounce their right to education and justice. Cromer’s neglect of education was notorious, as was his principle that educating Egyptians was nothing more than the encouragement of troublemakers. Kamil also drew attention to the conscious discouragement of the textile industry in Egypt, following the model developed by the British in India that colonial possessions should serve as a market for British industry. He also deplored Cromer’s manifest hostility to Islam and his apparent belief that pan-Islamic movements were a threat to the West. In addition, was Sudan a part of Egypt or was it not? Were Britain to permit Egypt to be free and prosperous, would it not extend its freedom and prosperity to the upper reaches of the Nile? Huda soon began to agree with Kamil that Cromer, who appeared to have a personal grudge against Egypt, exemplified the imperialist will to dominate others. He had even put obstacles in the way of the Egyptian University project in 1890.¹⁰

In 1904, Umar hosted Kamil, Juliette Adam and Prince Haidar Fazil on a journey to Upper Egypt on his Nile boat, during which she promised to do what she could to help him and his friends to liberate Egypt. Prince Haidar’s wife, Zainab Fahmi, who was also the eldest daughter of Ali Fahmi Pasha and Munira Sabri, travelled with the party to Upper Egypt, where Umar arranged for them all to be sumptuously entertained wherever they went. Umar became the treasurer of the National Party when it was formally constituted as a political party in 1907. Apparently Kamil took the step of forming an official political party partly in reaction to the formation of the supposedly more moderate Umma Party (Hizb al-Umma), with which Ali Shaarawi was associated.¹¹

Umar Sultan (left) and Mustapha Kamil (right).

Ali Shaarawi and his friends were less revolutionary than were Kamil’s adherents, favouring a gradual approach to change through legal means. Ali’s approach was best exemplified by the campaign he began in 1907 to obtain the enactment of a constitution. In response to Cromer’s final report, a pamphlet was written by Ismail Abaza and co-signed by Ali, Ahmad Yehia Pasha, who was a wealthy philanthropist from Alexandria, and others, emphasising the need for a constitution and the gradual decentralisation of power, as well as what they called a ‘healthy transformation’ of government in Egypt. As members of the Legislative Council, they did not quarrel directly with the British. Instead, they sought to negotiate their way to self-rule. In their view, the transfer of power from British to Egyptian hands could only be gradual, and would require hard work. They were aware that, given the circumstances of the military occupation, beggars could not be choosers. The trick of victory would be patience alone, and would lie in judging the correct moment for action. In Sir Eldon Gorst, the British High Commissioner who succeeded Cromer, they found an open-minded interlocutor, and succeeded in laying down a basis for cooperation between the Egyptian Government and the British. The importance of the personal influence of individual officials was brought home to them, however, when Gorst died in July 1911 and was replaced by Lord Kitchener. Kitchener’s arrival once more put an end to reconciliation and dialogue.

Meanwhile, until his premature death, Kamil went from strength to strength in Egyptian political life and in the anti-British movement. He lost no opportunity to capitalise on what became known as the Dinshwai trial in 1906, when a British officer died in an altercation between Egyptian fellaheen and a party of British officers who carelessly killed a peasant woman while shooting pigeons on the farmers’ land. The result was the public hanging of four of the Egyptians allegedly involved and the flogging of many others. The uproar caused by this collective punishment contributed to Cromer’s decision to resign in 1907.¹² Sadly, Kamil died in 1908 at the age of 34 of tuberculosis. He had become a real force in Egyptian politics, and was by this time President of the National Party and the editor of four newspapers, three of them dailies, spending his life incessantly campaigning, writing and speaking against the British occupation. The toll of his enormous workload compromised his health, and the loss of his beloved mother in 1907 demoralised him. Kamil’s death provoked a wave of grief throughout the country, and his funeral was spectacular. His death was a great loss to all who knew him, and was felt also by Huda, not least because of the pain Umar suffered from the loss of his great friend. Mustapha Kamil had become the spokesman of nationalism in Egypt, with the support of not only the political class but also of the public at large. When he died, his aspirations and doubts became the legacy of others, including in their different ways both Umar Sultan and Ali Shaarawi.

Umar remained attached to Kamil’s Nationalist Party all his life, while Ali maintained his association with the Umma Party, though he also revered Kamil’s memory. The involvement of Huda herself in nationalist politics was therefore virtually inevitable. Ali was keenly aware of Huda’s abilities, and was ahead of his time in believing women could play a role on the political scene. After Kamil’s death in 1908, Ali lent his name as a member of the Legislative Council to a further appeal for greater participation by Egyptians in their country’s government, calling for the implementation of a constitution on the model of what was being proposed by the Young Turks in Istanbul.

The press supported his campaign, and a delegation chaired by Ismail Abaza Pasha went to Britain to negotiate with the British Foreign Office about the implementation of constitutional rule in Egypt. Khedive Abbas Hilmi asked Eldon Gorst, known as a man of reconciliation, to give his blessing to this delegation. Gorst extracted a promise from Abaza before he left for London, however, that the talks would be limited to a request that the Legislative Council be allowed to play a greater role in the Egyptian Government, without mentioning the crucial issue of British withdrawal. Ali wanted further concessions from the British, and therefore withdrew his support from the delegation before their departure. Fearing further political agitation, Gorst demanded the revival of the 1881 law which allowed press censorship. In response, Saad Zaghlul then threatened to give up his post as Speaker of the Legislative Council, and the 1881 law was amended before being re-enacted. Nevertheless, there were serious demonstrations, and at the Legislative Council’s session on 13 April, Ali proposed the law’s repeal and revision. Ali’s proposals were disregarded, with the result that demonstrations began in earnest against the British and the Khedive. The political situation was delicate.¹³

A serious blow for Huda at this time was the death of her close friend Eugénie, in 1908. Eugénie had stoically borne an illness that inexorably led to her death, despite a fruitless surgical intervention in Paris. She nevertheless found the strength to send word to Huda, through Ali, who was at the time visiting France, that she should not succumb to despair as she had done after the deaths of other friends.¹⁴ However, Huda was for a long time unable to overcome her grief at the loss of Eugénie. She lost her appetite, smoked more heavily than ever, and became obsessed by her children, their health, their moods, their education and their safety. Despite Eugénie’s exhortation, Huda became depressed, as she had in the past. This recalled the advice she used to receive from Adila, who would counsel her against giving in to melancholy. Huda missed Adila, whom she felt that she had neglected in her lifetime, and whenever she was not distracted by practical matters she began to brood over her life and what she felt she had failed to do.

Another death which affected Huda at this time was that of Qasim Amin, who died in 1908 at the early age of 47.¹⁵ Amin, a lawyer who rose to be a judge, had been an early and vocal advocate of women’s rights in Egypt, and had shocked the establishment with his outspokenness on the issue. He was a disciple of the late Muhammad Abduh, and a staunch supporter of the Umma Party. He had been one of those responsible for the launch of Cairo University. In his book The Liberation of Women (Tahrir al-Mar’a), published in 1899, he vigorously defended the rights of women, a position which gained him many enemies. In the book, he made the surprising suggestion that the lowly status of women in Egypt was a contributory factor in the perpetuation of Egypt’s subjection to British domination. Amin’s books were much criticised in the press, and he was the victim of hostility and social ostracism by his conservative critics. His depression at the violent reaction that met his book seems to have been a contributory factor in his death, but he never retracted his views.

In these years, against the background of Egypt’s political turbulence, Huda’s opinions were often sought by both Umar and Ali. They increasingly sought her out to discuss their political aspirations, their hopes for the future of Egypt and their views on the events of the day. The effect on her was significant. She was learning an important lesson, namely that the most important asset for the weaker party in any political conflict was patience and determination. Ali’s calm but firm interventions in Parliament led her to understand that battles could only be won on the basis of constitutional victories. Crude and violent opposition would only result in the crushing of the weaker party. She believed that the poorly organised Urabi revolt had paved the way for the British occupation.

As time went on, while Ali closely followed the administrative and constitutional debate, Umar began to take another direction, following the lead of his father Sultan Pasha, who had hoped to live to see the establishment of indigenous banking institutions in Egypt. Umar increasingly devoted his efforts to the development of an Agricultural Union, based on the development of cooperatives. He was always concerned over the lot of the common people, and his goal was to improve their existence as much as possible. Later, in 1915, his plans were to come to fruition when he was involved in the successful establishment of the first Egyptian agricultural cooperative. Such agricultural cooperatives became the fellah’s primary source of credit.¹⁶ Umar also strove to raise Egyptian capital to fund the Banque Misr, as he decided to call it in order to differentiate it from the National Bank, which had been founded by the British. His goal was to recruit investors to establish an Egyptian bank in order to enable the development of indigenous Egyptian industry, on the basis of Egyptian capital. The inflow of foreign capital into Egypt had steadily increased since foreign intervention began in 1882, and it was inevitable that the Western banks provided facilities preferentially to foreign investors. This made it difficult for Egyptian merchants to compete with the Europeans. The great Egyptian landowners involved in the cotton trade, with whom Umar was identified, had good reasons to want the foundation of an Egyptian bank. Acting on the basis of the original plan that his father and Umar Lutfi Pasha had developed, Umar canvassed his fellow landlords in Minya, though the bank did not come into existence until later, after Umar’s premature death.

In general, on the political and social front, the atmosphere in Egypt in these pre-war years was ripe for reform. Members of the khedivial family were themselves seeking to promote education. They were out of sympathy with the Government and its British links, and there was much they could do to improve the lot of the Egyptian people. Khedive Ismail’s wife, Princess Sheshmi Effet, had set up the Sania Secondary School for Girls as long before as 1876. Her son, Prince Fuad, later to be Khedive, founded the Egyptian University in Cairo with the help of his sister, Princess Fatma Ismail, who donated her land and jewels. Lord Cromer opposed the move but permitted it to go ahead. Huda took careful note of the developments at the university.¹⁷ Meanwhile, in 1908, Prince Yusuf Kamal set up a School of Fine Art, a move which attracted less support but was highly important in its own way.

For Egyptian women, the most accessible field of activity under the British occupation was the establishment of charitable organisations. There were British charitable associations to which Egyptian women were invited as visiting members, but they were not allowed to speak or vote, which was frustrating. They were invited to contribute funds and help in subordinate roles, but the direction of such charities remained in the hands of the English women. Huda had actually refused an invitation to attend a tea party given by the second Lady Cromer to thank the Egyptian women who had financed a dispensary built with Egyptian contributions in honour of the late first Lady Cromer. She felt that this was an incongruous way of celebrating an Egyptian project financed by Egyptian money.

However, Huda was determined to make an effort of her own. She was on excellent terms with Princess Ain al-Hayat Ahmed, despite the wide age gap between them. The Princess always encouraged Huda, whom she saw as a convinced social reformer, and regarded Huda as a young friend on whom she could rely. In 1908, Huda proposed the foundation of a charitable association to establish a clinic which would be funded and run by Egyptian women under the Princess’s sponsorship, and she swiftly obtained the Princess’s support. The first meeting to discuss the project took place in the Princess’s palace in al-Dawawin Street, where a founding committee was set up, with Princess Nazli Halim as its President and Princess Ain al-Hayat as its Treasurer. A French woman, Mme Fouquet, placed her administrative and practical experience at the group’s service. Each of the women who attended the meeting offered an annual contribution amounting to 50 Egyptian pounds, while Princess Amina, Khedive Tawfiq’s widow and the mother of Khedive Abbas Hilmi, promised 120. Khedive Abbas Hilmi and his wife also supported the project.¹⁸

The Muhammad Ali Dispensary (Mabarrat Muhammad Ali) came into being a year later, in 1909. A small building in Sharia al-Baramuni was converted to be the dispensary’s headquarters. Various committee members contributed furniture, but Huda and Umar covered all the other expenses. Princess Amina attended the inauguration and Princess Nazli Halim delivered an inaugural address and proposed a vote of thanks. Later, Huda agreed to become the Chair of the executive committee of the dispensary. The director, Mrs Hetty Crowther, an Irishwoman, worked with a number of European physicians, Dr Roeder, Dr Forcart and Dr Thomsen, who had volunteered to give their services at the clinic, while the committee provided support and raised funds through charitable events. Paradoxically, dazzling social occasions provided lavish funding and led to an increase in well being for some of Cairo’s poorest. But the positive direction of the efforts of the Egyptian elite at that time should not be underestimated. They certainly felt closer to their people than they ever had in the past.

Other new encounters at this time helped pull Huda out of the depression that Eugénie Lebrun’s death had caused. She spent a great deal of time in the company of Eugénie’s sister, Francine Daurat, who became Iqbal’s carer in Heliopolis, Jami Sharkas Street or Ramleh, depending on the season. Huda herself had already begun to suffer from poor blood circulation and varicose veins, and whenever Francine returned to France she came back with medicines and medical support stockings for Huda’s legs. She also brought her silk stockings, ‘so soft, one hardly feels them on one’s legs’.¹⁹ Huda had also been introduced to another French woman, Marguerite Clément, a professional lecturer on women’s issues. Ali saw that the organisation of events for women could be the key to his wife’s recovery from depression, and encouraged her to organise public lectures for an audience of women to be given by Clément and others at the newly founded University of Cairo under the auspices of the Umma Party. Ali also offered the headquarters of the recently founded newspaper Al-Jarida, the organ of the Umma Party, as an alternative venue for some of the proposed lectures. Ali had many friends who sat on the new university’s board of governors. One of these, Ilwi Pasha, the same family friend who had previously intervened with Huda on Ali’s behalf, enthusiastically gave his support to the women’s initiative.

Huda’s work at the Muhammad Ali Dispensary, and in connection with the lectures, in addition to her visits to the West, which had by now taken on more the character of fact-finding visits than holidays, certainly helped to mitigate her depression. These outlets served as an effective means of recovery from her mourning for Eugénie. For the rest of her life, activity was Huda’s way to banish melancholy. In addition to her work, she was still kept busy by her children and by her ailing mother. She also began to worry about Umar, as she heard he had begun to lead an irresponsible life, especially during his repeated and frequent trips to Europe. Without the company of Mustapha Kamil, he found it hard to devote his life to the party, and often disapproved of the behaviour of some of its members. Huda thought he had become too rich at too young an age. In 1910, Huda, Ali and their children went on holiday to Europe with Iqbal, Umar, Inayat and their family. Huda increasingly felt that her sister-in-law was very possessive of her husband, especially when Huda was present. She was still jealous of Huda because of the closeness of the relationship between Umar and Huda since their childhood in Jami Sharkas Street. Yet this was an enjoyable trip. Huda had heard many stories about Naples, and yearned to see it. In the event, she adored the welcome given in the harbour to the passenger ship on which her party arrived from Egypt. Boats full of musicians and singers greeted the steamer under blue skies, and the exploits of diving children were exciting. In Marseilles, by contrast, the skies were grey, but there were other diversions, such as visits to galleries and museums and fine French restaurants. In Paris, she and Umar splashed out, booking a whole floor at the Princess Hotel on the Avenue des Champs Élysées. This was a treat, and the family felt really at home in the privacy they enjoyed at the hotel. A visit to Paris with Umar was a wonderful experience for Huda, because he knew the city so well. She recovered her former closeness to her brother as they chatted about everything they saw. Huda’s reason for visiting France was medical treatment, but at the beginning of the holiday they put this to the backs of their minds. They spent a month in Paris before going on to the spa at St-Laurent-les-Bains before returning to Cairo. It was during this trip that she first contacted Marguerite Clément to plan her series of lectures in Cairo.²⁰

Jazb Ashiq, who had long suffered from a cardiac condition, died suddenly in 1911 after a massive heart attack. Iqbal had selflessly cared for her and was physically and emotionally stricken by her death. Iqbal was a kind soul whose philosophy of life was to bear good and bad fortune as it came, submitting to fate. The understanding and compassion she showed attracted kindness in return, and fate had been kind to her in many ways. After Jazb Ashiq’s death, however, Iqbal’s own health began to decline. Her lungs became more delicate, and her heart was apparently being strained. Huda asked Louise du Brucq, a Belgian painter who had become a family friend, to find a house for Iqbal in Heliopolis, the new district on the outskirts of Cairo that was being developed by Nubar Pasha and the Belgian entrepreneur Baron Empain, where the dry desert air was unpolluted and invigorating.

Marguerite Clément’s lectures, sponsored by Princess Ain al-Hayat, were held in 1911, taking place in the event alternately at Huda’s house and at the University. They were warmly received in Egyptian circles sympathetic to women’s rights. Clément was an experienced educationist, and spoke in very practical terms about the condition of women at the time. After the enthusiastic reception her lectures received, Huda invited her to give another series which would on this occasion be printed and distributed to the audience. Prince Ahmad Fuad and his wife Princess Shivekar also supported this initiative. For the second series, Khayri Pasha’s mansion, which was later to be the principal building of the American University in Cairo, was chosen as the meeting place.

A further lecturer in the series was Malak Hifni Nasif, a pioneer of Egyptian feminism and an acquaintance of Huda. She was a disciple of Muhammad Abduh, and Huda admired her intellect and determination. Malak had taken the pseudonym ‘Bahitha al-Badia’ (‘the Seeker in the Desert’) to use for her writing and political activities. She was married to Abd al-Sattar al-Basil Pasha, the brother of a prominent politician, Hamad al-Basil Pasha. Al-Basil, who lived in the Fayum oasis, where he managed his family’s estates, was no intellectual. When he sought Malak’s hand in marriage, the proposal came as a surprise to her family and to herself. She was a clever and sympathetic woman, as well as a talented poet, but she was neither a beauty nor an heiress. It was assumed that al-Basil wanted to marry her because he wished to be associated with her family. Malak was observant of tradition, and had no desire for radical action such as would have been implied by removing her veil, but she was a passionate advocate of education for girls and women. Nevertheless, she consented to the match, only to discover that she had been taken as a second wife. He was already married to a cousin, of whom he was very fond and by whom he had a daughter. He had apparently married Malak in the hope that she would educate his beloved daughter, since there were no schools for girls in the Fayum and he wanted her to have the best of teachers.

A broken heart was not enough, however, to make the sturdy Bahitha quit her husband or leave her new home. She decided to dedicate herself to the welfare of the community of Fayum, and to help the inhabitants as much as she could to cope with the hardships of their primitive existence. She saw herself as an explorer of local manners and morals, and dressed like the rural women among whom she lived. She demanded the right for women to pray in mosques like men, as they had in the early days of Islam, as well as asking that they receive at least a primary level of education, and that their safety should be guaranteed if they ventured outside their homes. She drew attention to the need for hospitals and vocational schools. In addition, she argued that polygamy should be strictly controlled, and that divorce should not be recognised without mutual agreement between husband and wife. In due course, she began to tackle the issue of social reform at the national level.

Malak continued to wear the veil because she believed in doing so, perhaps to fit in with her new environment, but also perhaps because of her own plain looks. Her economic and social concerns went beyond gender issues. She saw no virtue in social life for its own sake, and never felt the need to communicate with a greater range of people than the ones she normally mingled with. At the same time, her exceptional knowledge of the Arabic language made it enjoyable for her to write in her mother tongue, and this occupied a great deal of her time. She wrote essays, poems and many letters, and her lectures were the first advocating the rights of women and the need for social change by an Egyptian woman. She contributed many articles to newspapers advocating women’s rights and arguing specifically against polygamy, which reflected her personal experience.²¹

In 1911, the Bahitha submitted ten recommendations to the Muslim National Congress held in Heliopolis, chaired by the former Prime Minister Mustafa Riad Pasha, a comprehensive gathering of some two thousand nationalist and religious figures. In her petition, which was circulated to the participants, she demanded education and emancipation for women. She was not allowed to address the gathering in person, and her ten recommendations were not taken up by the men, but it was significant that she was permitted to make her views known. Her specific proposals were seen as important, and were later adopted by a range of organisations which promoted the interests of women. They included demands for more and better education for women, and specifically in the professional fields of law, medicine and education. She also asked for religious equality for women, and for greater protection in terms of the law relating to marriage and divorce.

Another of Huda’s lecturers was Mayy Ziadé, whom Huda had met at one of the Bahitha’s talks. Mayy, who was Lebanese, was a gifted writer and a well-known journalist. Huda found her stunning.²² Those who knew her said she had the vitality and joy of a bird, though it seemed she saw herself as a bird in a cage. She was single, adulated by a number of famous men, and lived with her parents, to whom she was strongly attached. She led an independent social life, and as a Christian, she was free to mingle with men in salons, and her wit and vivacious mind, together with her great ability as a writer in both Arabic and French, made her a legend.

Inspired by the encouraging experience of the lectures and the success of the Muhammad Ali dispensary, Huda at that point decided that there was an urgent need for an intellectual association that would bring together like-minded Egyptian women. She once more sought the help of the Princesses, and obtained it. Those in Ali’s Umma Party circles who were involved in political and educational matters, having witnessed the success of Huda’s cultural initiatives, supported the plan to set up a women’s association. Abd al-Aziz Fahmi Pasha, a lawyer by profession and a fervent patriot, sent Huda an official letter inviting her to elaborate on her project and suggest what the rules of procedure of such an association might be.²³ The Intellectual Association of Egyptian Women (al-Ittihad al-Nisa’i al-Tahdhibi) came into being in April 1914 in the course of a meeting at Huda’s house in Qasr al-Nil Street chaired by Princess Amina Halim. Mayy Ziadé and Labiba Hashim, who had founded a magazine, Fatat al-Sharq (The Eastern Maiden), were among the first members. A spin-off society, the Ladies Literary Improvement Society, was instituted to promote more lectures, and Marguerite Clément was once more invited to deliver a series of talks. The women’s movement in Egypt could be said to have begun to take shape.

Huda was obliged to travel to Europe again with Ali and Umar in the summer of 1914, due to a combination of circumstances. This, as it later proved, was not the best time for such a visit, and the trip involuntarily turned into a rather unwelcome adventure. One reason for the visit was Umar’s frame of mind. His little daughter, named Huda after her aunt, was worshipped by her father and also by Huda’s own small son, Muhammad. Little Huda contracted an unexpected illness which was diagnosed as meningitis, and she sadly died, leaving the whole family shattered. Huda’s son Muhammad was extremely upset. His health seemed to suffer, and his doctors recommended a change, preferably a holiday in a mountain resort. Umar was also advised to take a holiday away from the place where his beloved daughter had passed away. He always recalled her last words, when she declared that she was playing a game called ‘going to Heaven’. She confidently said she heard birds chirping in the garden, ‘a beautiful garden, just like the garden of Eden,’ she muttered, as her innocent spirit left her little body.²⁴

Huda braced herself to be strong and to help her son and her brother shake off their depression. As Ali had separately been advised to travel to Vittel for treatment, there was a collective decision that the whole family would go to Europe for the summer, leaving Iqbal in the care of Attia al-Saqqaf in Cairo. Ali’s son from his first marriage, Hasan, was at school in England, and was to join them in Paris, where Umar now owned a flat. While Ali was in Vittel, Huda spent her time at the flat in Paris, with her own children and with Hasan.²⁵ Huda was anxious, and would go for long walks in the streets of Paris, brooding about her own mother’s condition. She felt defeated.

The war in Europe was imminent, and Huda was invited to attend a meeting of women held in Paris to advocate peace and women’s suffrage. The meeting took place at the offices of a newspaper, and the speakers, in addition to Clément, who had sent Huda the invitation, were Mme de Sévigné and Mme Avril de St Croix. After the meeting, Huda became engaged in a discussion about whether peace in Europe could be preserved. The question by now had become whether any hope still remained for peace despite the unmistakable signs of war on the horizon.²⁶ Paris was grey and sad during the last months before the war, and there was a general air of disintegration. General military mobilisation had begun, with effects on civilian life that included an unpredictability in train timetables which was disturbing for those who had to travel home across Europe.

Consequently, the Shaarawi and Sultan family’s journey home, through Basel, Zurich and Milan was disorganised and exhausting. Huda was unsettled, and now that her brother Umar and her son Muhammad were in better health, she allowed herself to worry about her mother’s welfare. She began to be concerned about Iqbal, feeling that the future boded ill, and was eager to reach Egypt, despite the reassuring tone of her mother’s letters. From 1911 to 1914, Huda had kept close watch on her mother, asking Francine Daurat to be her companion so that she had someone with her at all times. Nevertheless, she had long been aware that Iqbal’s health was worsening, and suddenly began to fear she might be in mortal danger. The family spent one night at the Princess Hotel in Paris, but Huda could not bear to remain there because she had stayed there before with Iqbal. Ali booked a suite for her in the Continental Hotel, where he left her and the children while he spent a few days taking Hasan to a boarding school in London, where he was to enrol. Bassna’s eleventh birthday was on 18 June, and Huda was at least able to give thanks for her daughter’s good health.²⁷

Ali then returned from England, and the family moved on from Paris to Vittel. Once there, however, Huda’s concern over Iqbal became more acute and her misery deepened.²⁸ She went to Paris with her housekeeper Marguerite to shop and to collect Hasan, who they had decided should for the best return with them to Egypt, given the deteriorating political situation in Europe. In Paris, the streets were becoming deserted. In the meantime, the children remained with Ali in Vittel, where the atmosphere was also full of apprehension. The whole party left Vittel three days later on a train whose destination was unclear, but which was at least running. They reached the Swiss city of Basel in the middle of the night, and with difficulty found a hotel room. Food was already in short supply. They travelled on to Zurich, where they were lucky enough to spend a few wonderful days, as they planned their onward journey, in a comfortable hotel on the shore of the lake, with clean air, verdant woods and people who greeted them with courtesy.

Then they went on to Milan, in those days a rather poor city, where they found rooms at a small hotel adjacent to the cathedral. The nights spent in Zurich quickly felt like memories of another life. During the night they spent in Milan, they could hear the voices of newspaper sellers shouting out ‘News of the war!’ They sounded like owls screeching in the quietness of the night, Huda thought.²⁹ They met several Egyptian friends there, some of whom were stranded without the means to pay for what had become a complicated journey home. Ali never refused to help, so that he and his family in the end had less money for themselves. The people were sullen and hostile. War was imminent, and it affected everyone. The noisy crowd on the piazza in front of the cathedral bred an uneasy atmosphere night and day.

As soon as they could, they travelled on to Genoa, whence on 10 August 1914 they were at last able to board an Italian ship sailing to Egypt, the SS Oriente. The cabins were dirty and smelly, and they paid exorbitant sums to the ships’ officers to rent the officers’ cabins. Even there, they were pestered by cockroaches, and ended up on deck, where they slept on their chairs in the open. They later had a tent set up for them on deck during the night.³⁰ A stop at the port of Catania allowed Huda to see the traces of Arab culture in southern Italy, an experience that even in the midst of such tribulation prompted her to think about the way in which cultures interacted. Ever the intellectual, even in the midst of difficulties, she absorbed experiences.

On 19 August 1914, they landed at last in Alexandria.³¹ Nobody was there to greet them save their accountant and a young woman who was Bassna’s Arabic language teacher. At their home in Ramleh, a fateful telegram awaited them with the news that Iqbal had passed away just before their arrival. Huda felt drained. All her terrible premonitions had been fulfilled. Her feelings towards her mother were both filial and motherly, but it was too late now even to say goodbye. The only solace was that Attia had been constantly by her side during her last month. Iqbal had been desperate for the safe return of her family from war-stricken Europe, and to comfort her Attia had arranged before the ship actually reached Egypt for a telegram to be sent prematurely from Alexandria with news of their arrival there.³² Iqbal had therefore died in the expectation of seeing her family soon, reassured by Attia that they were safely home. Ali and Huda went at once to Cairo so that Huda could spend the night near her mother’s body, and they buried her the next day in Minya, in Sultan Pasha’s tomb. Once more, Umar helped Huda to bear the grief they shared.

Meanwhile the war had profound consequences for the future of Egypt. In 1914, the British Government, at war with Germany, in order to secure its strategic interests in the Middle East, felt justified in declaring a formal protectorate over Egypt to replace its unofficial domination. Turkey entered the war on Germany’s side, and Khedive Abbas Hilmi was in Turkey when the war broke out. The British demanded that he be deposed, allegedly for reasons of security, but also because of his outspoken criticism of the protectorate. Britain also wanted to break the bond between Egypt and the Ottoman Empire. Abbas Hilmi’s uncle, Prince Husain Kamal al-Din, a son of the Khedive Ismail, who was the acting President of the Legislative Council, was declared the new ruler of Egypt, with the title of Sultan rather than Khedive, thus emphasising the fact that Egypt was no longer Turkey’s vassal state. Prince Husain Kamal al-Din had previously said he would remain loyal to Khedive Abbas Hilmi, and vowed not to accept the British proposal. When the offer of the throne was put to him, however, he accepted, allegedly because they had threatened to give the throne to a foreign Muslim ruler, the Agha Khan.³³ The country was in despair. Abbas Hilmi’s former court poet, Ahmad Shawqi, wrote a poem excoriating Sultan Husain for accepting the throne. This spread like wildfire through the country, and led to Shawqi’s exile to Spain.³⁴

Umar and Huda became ever closer after Iqbal’s death, despite Inayat’s jealousy. Each morning and evening Umar would come to reminisce about the past, talk over family matters, and discuss the political situation of Egypt and the fighting in Europe. Umar’s fear was that the post-war intentions of the allies would be no better for Egypt than the plans of the Germans and allies. Echoing the philosophy of his old friend Mustapha Kamil, he blamed imperialism for the war. Like Kamil, he believed that the impending destruction of the Ottoman Empire would have dire consequences for the Arab lands and Egypt.

Death struck again at Huda’s circle while war raged in Europe. First, Munira Sabri, the sister of Yusuf Sabri Pasha, passed away in 1916. Munira’s children, Zainab, Fatma, Aziza, Aisha and Ali were Huda’s cousins. Munira’s eldest daughter Zainab was the wife of Prince Haidar Fazil. Huda consoled the Fahmi family for the loss of their mother. This meant that on Iqbal’s side of Huda’s family only Yusuf and Ahmed Idris’s family now remained. Though they continued to live in Turkey, she swore she would never again lose touch with them.

The war moved towards its close, but tragedy in Huda’s life had not yet run its course. In February 1918, she suffered the cruellest loss imaginable with the sudden death of her beloved and precious brother Umar from an aneurism at the young age of 37. At the beginning of 1918, she had already begun to worry about Umar’s health, and had been plagued by bad dreams that seemed to portend that something bad would befall him. Umar himself seemed to have forebodings. When he left Cairo for the last time to go to Minya, he made Huda promise that she would visit him there in the near future.³⁵ Soon afterwards, Ali was informed confidentially of Umar’s death by messengers from Minya despatched to Cairo with the news. He could not think how Huda could be told, as he knew and feared the effect the news would have on her. At first, he clumsily hid the truth from her, unwilling to cause her distress. Instead, he told her that she needed to go to Minya because her half-sister Luza, who was much older than herself, had passed away.

She agreed to go to her half-sister’s funeral, and set off, accompanied by Ali and by Said Agha, who looked after her on the train in the women’s accommodation. On their arrival in Minya, a carriage was waiting to take her and Said Agha from the station to Umar’s house. Her enquiries about how her half-sister had died were answered vaguely, and questions about Umar were met with silence. Ominously, a silent, sad crowd filled the streets. This was customary for the death of important men, and Huda began to feel that there was something she was not being told. When the party reached the house, the truth came out. Inayat was there to greet her, and blurted out at once, ‘It’s Umar; a tragedy for all of us!’ For Huda, the hurt was all but unbearable. When the funeral was over she sank into a long period of depression.

Umar was buried next to his father Sultan Pasha in the family tomb at the cemetery on the eastern bank of the Nile at Minya, at the foot of the hills. After crossing the Nile, the drive to the cemetery was long, and the carriage was surrounded by a horde of poor people. The funeral itself was carried out with full pomp and ceremony. Police officers and soldiers marched to the cemetery with the coffin, behind a band. The British army sent a contingent of troops to accompany the cortège. Ali and other men of the family led the procession of mourners on foot, with the women following behind in carriages.³⁶ The poor formed a rabble that followed the funeral all the way to the tomb. Many had crossed the Nile in fragile rowing boats, then walked miles on their bare feet to the cemetery. Some seemed almost too weak to walk, and others were gaunt, haggard, and obviously ill-fed. Umar had supported many of these people out of his personal generosity, but could not sustain all. The crowd pressed forward to try to touch the coffin, as they did at the burials of holy men. When the coachman raised his whip to keep the mob at bay, Huda forbade him. Instead, she seized a bag of silver coins intended for distribution at the cemetery, and threw them out among the people with all her might. Handfuls of silver coins glittered in the air above the people, who ran to collect them. She continued to do the same all the way to the cemetery, determined, as she put it, that nobody should be whipped at Umar’s funeral.

She later read and re-read his letters. They were a constant reminder to her of the depth of his affection and his generosity of spirit. For example, in one letter written while he was away on a journey in 1904, when he was aged just 24, he showed his love for his family: ‘I beg you to comfort our adored mother, who was very sad and depressed when I left her, and tell her that I shall be in your arms in two months’ time to tell both of you that I love you more than anything else in the world.’³⁷

Umar and Huda had always enjoyed their laughter together, and his boisterous enthusiasm was contagious. He enjoyed life so much. This had been the cause of his worst quarrels with Inayat, when he angrily refused her attempts to restrict his freedom. After Mustapha Kamil’s death, he had become increasingly dissatisfied with political life.

Huda’s sense of loss was unassuageable. Umar had been Huda’s best friend in adulthood as well as her precious little brother. The two had grown up side by side, and he had consoled her for every injustice that she had suffered as a girl. It was he who had introduced her to Eugénie Lebrun, as well as to Juliette Adam, and he had been a source of encouragement and support in Huda’s determination to read and to acquire a solid education. He had always supported her initiatives, such as the dispensary and the Intellectual Association. He had persuaded Ali to trust her judgment and convinced him that his best plan was to help his wife with her projects. He had developed and sharpened Huda’s interest in politics, which was why Ali came to trust her judgment even in fields usually restricted to men. In short, Umar had believed in her.

After the prescribed 40 days of mourning had passed, Huda remained in a state of depression. The doctors said that she was badly in need of calm and rest. She sought this in the company of her children, taking them to Minya, where they could spend time with Umar’s children, Muhammad and Naila. She grew ever closer to the children. She read to them and discussed every aspect of life with them endlessly. Her heartbreak, however, did not diminish. She had felt Umar’s death as a cruel injustice, and her awareness of his absence weighed on her like a burden she could not shrug off. In this way, five months in Minya with the children passed by. At least she knew that Umar was remembered in Egypt.

Ali was moved by her distress. The house in Minya, which he had built especially for her, was meant to have brought her happiness. As she looked out of the windows, she could see the emerald fields and the palm trees swinging slowly by the banks of the Nile. Ali hoped the idyllic nature of her life there would eventually help her to recover her optimism. He also felt sure from his knowledge of her character that she would not long endure inactivity in Minya, and that her passionate concern over public issues would take precedence once more. He constantly exhorted her to go back to Cairo and to play once more her part in Egypt’s political and cultural life. ‘You are not just any woman,’ he said to her, ‘you have much to give to our people and so you must. This is what Umar would have wanted you to do.’

She returned to Cairo, but before she could resume her activities, however, she was obliged to face yet another unwelcome shock. On 17 October 1918, one of her former servants, weeping and dressed in mourning apparel, came to her door at Qasr al-Nil Street to bring bad news. This was that the Bahitha was dead. ‘Malak Hifni Nasif has passed away,’ the woman sobbed. The funeral was to take place that same day. Huda ran to find the procession, and met the coffin on her way. There were many mourners, with women in the streets alongside the men. A throng of notables and intellectuals were there, together with many of the high-school students for whom the Bahitha was a heroine. The Palace had sent an envoy to offer condolences to the family, though by convention the Palace did not walk in women’s funerals. However, the Prime Minister and other members of the Government and high officials were there. Representatives from missions, other foreigners and correspondents of the local and foreign press also joined the cortège. As the procession passed, women stood on their balconies, in tears.³⁸ Huda followed the cortège to the cemetery. As she put it in her diary, ‘they buried this vigorous body and closed the tombstone on whatever was left of this burning flame of intelligence.’³⁹

Both women and men expressed their reverence for Malak Hifni Nasif, whose modesty and dignity had complemented her intelligence and insight. The word ‘authentic’, ‘asila’ in Arabic, seemed to have been coined especially for her. Huda felt the need to offer her own appreciation of her loyal friend, who had been an inspiration to her, as a powerful writer and a noble human being. The women’s ceremony of remembrance was held at the University of Cairo, in the hall where Malak had spoken so many times. The women present invited Huda to chair the ceremony, and she gave her first public speech on this sad occasion. She felt the loss of the Bahitha for the rest of her life, especially during the hard days of the revolution of 1919, when, in Huda’s own words, she ‘called out to her within myself, because her voice was no longer heard, except by my own consciousness’.⁴⁰

Huda drew her own conclusions from these foreshortened lives. Umar beckoned from the world of shadows to remind her of his unfulfilled plans. The only way to liberate the country, he had always said, was through the development of a free indigenous economy. Egypt was a rich country and its soil was pure gold. Meanwhile, Malak Hifni Nasif had revealed to Huda that reform was a wiser principle to follow than revolution. To be a feminist meant above all to be a woman with feminine attributes. There would be no emulation of men’s ways. Feminine, not feministic, ways were to be enshrined in the laws. Before removing the veil, women had to be educated, since ignorant women would not be able to understand the social implications. Any misuse of freedom would expose women to shame and to a consequent loss of rights, and would be a barrier to positive change. Huda decided that for the time being there was not much she could do to further Malak’s work. She would therefore throw her weight behind Umar’s ambitions for the foundation of an Egyptian bank, whose realisation was more urgent.

She discussed the idea with Inayat. Talaat Harb was well known to them both, since earlier in his career, until Umar’s death, he had managed the Minya estates Umar had inherited from Sultan Pasha, and was well acquainted with Umar’s ideas. Harb expressed some reservations, believing that it would be difficult to persuade investors to contribute to the bank’s capital, due to their mistrust of the ability of Egyptians to manage such an enterprise. Nevertheless, he agreed to lend his name to a revival of the scheme to set up a national bank on the basis of subscription by wealthy Egyptians, including Muslims, Christians and Jews. Huda pledged to use her influence and contacts to help him find the necessary funds. Huda asked Harb to find suitable premises for the bank while she recruited her half-sister Luza’s son, Fuad Khalifa Marzuq, to assist her in a campaign to raise the necessary capital.

The bank was established in 1920, and in due course amassed sufficient funds to begin its operations. Huda’s efforts bore fruit, and she was able to persuade many members of her family and her social circle to participate. A list of shares purchased by 11 January 1921 included 250 shares purchased by herself, while many substantial holdings were taken by wealthy women of her acquaintance. These contributions served to prime the pump. In 1924, the bank opened its doors, with Talaat Harb as Chairman of the board of directors.⁴¹ Fuad Sultan became Secretary of the board and at the first board meeting he and Hafiz Afifi moved that Huda should become an honorary life member of the board, and that she would be invited to attend the meeting at the beginning of each financial year that approved the bank’s budget.⁴² The bank was part of the plan to free Egypt from British domination, and immediately identified itself as an institution opposed to imperialism.

Looking ahead to 1924, the bank was to have an impact on wider Arab politics. In that year, a group of Palestinian notables, who were under pressure to sell their lands to the Zionists, sent letters to Harb, asking him to open a branch in their country, so that they could obtain loans to continue with their affairs and save their fortunes and lands rather than sell to the incoming settlers.⁴³ This was the first Huda had heard of what was taking place in Palestine. At first, she found it hard to believe that the Jewish settlers, whom she had been told were honest and hardworking, were being unfair to the local population. However, she had also made herself aware of the conclusions of the King–Crane report of 1919, commissioned by the United States, which questioned whether the Palestinian population would acquiesce to steadily escalating Zionist settlements, suggesting they were unlikely to welcome the rising tide of immigration of European Jews into their country. Of course, she did not know at this point that Charles Crane was destined later to become a friend.