As the Opera House caught fire some 40 years ago, I stood nearby, overwhelmed with grief. I saw the firemen desperately, and unsuccessfully, strive to control the flames. I saw men weep at the grave loss of a gem of national heritage. Four decades later the scene was replicated, as the Shura Council, the 19th-century home of Egypt’s upper house of Parliament, went up in flames. The building was a hallmark of architectural as well as political heritage. But this time I saw no Egyptian weep. I could not help wondering what these four decades had done to the sensibility of Egyptians, turning them numb. Were we to bid farewell to the generation that respected and appreciated national heritage? Are current generations ignorant and apathetic when it comes to Egypt’s history? No satisfactory answer was at hand. I was shocked to see some young people react by schadenfreude. Although I understand that the young suffer many grievances, it is hardly possible to tolerate the reality that, instead of grieving for the loss of a great historical building, many gloated at the government and officials. This is the real disaster which out-weighs the loss of the building itself. Young people appear to have lost every sense of belonging to the homeland and have come to see that Egypt belongs only to its government, and to the rich and the powerful. The poor and unprivileged are seen as mere slaves whose sole role is to serve the masters.
As one recalls the tragedy, one cannot help feeling infuriated over officials’ announcements. Instead of standing up to their responsibility, they resorted to deceiving the public and making light of their minds. By all measures, the event was a scandal which, had it occurred in a real democracy, would have resulted in several resignations among government officials. It might have even urged some official to commit suicide out of shame and guilt.
In Egypt, though, things are different. The cheek with which officials downplayed the loss, offered justifications for the incident, or reiterated genius promises that such an accident would never be allowed to occur again, was disgusting. They appeared not to realise that every word they said served to condemn them. Where were they and where was their genius when the disaster occurred?
The Shura Council fire was a resounding slap on the face of the architectural profession in Egypt. Architecture is not restricted to design and construction, but covers all sorts of networks and utilities as well as safety measures and maintenance. When a building is of significant historical value, such systems and measures become even more relevant. I expected the Engineers and Architects Syndicate to rise to defend its dignity and move to take to account whoever was in charge of the safety of the Shura Council building. It should have furthermore dropped the membership of those who, through their gross negligence, failed to safeguard the building.
Official talk of introducing ‘advanced’ systems to protect public buildings from fire, gave the ridiculous impression that such systems were as yet new. Yet engineers are very well acquainted with such systems because all buildings, private or public alike, are required to be equipped with safety measures. But when somebody pretends that the Shura Council was not equipped with an automatic alarm system because it was too costly, this exceeds any admissible margin of ignorance, and whoever made this statement should be taken to court. The announcement by another government official that the Shura Council personnel hurried to control the fire after seeing the flames rage from the third floor is no less shameful. If it weren’t so tragic it would actually be laughable.
The Shura Council blaze has proved beyond doubt that the devil is in the details of everything in our lives. This devil which drives us to find absurd excuses for mistakes, however grave, and to remain helpless and indifferent in the face of disaster is, I fear, only ourselves.
