The History
The Serageldin family residence
at No. 10 El Basha St in Cairo serves as backdrop and inspiration
for the novel and is still in the family. Originally commissioned
by Kaiser Wilhelm II to serve as a small palace during his visits
to Egypt, it was designed by the Italian architect Beyerly and
built in 1902 in the Garden City neighborhood. The outbreak
of WWI postponed the Kaiser’s visit indefinitely and the
mansion was purchased after the war by Serageldin Pasha, the
author’s grandfather. At the time, prosperous Egyptian
families were moving from their homes in the older neighborhoods
of Cairo and building opulent Belle Époque-style villas
across the river Nile in the new neighborhood of Garden City,
a stone’s throw from the British Residence and the embassies.
The Serageldin residence
acquired its unique historical significance with the rise in
political prominence of Serageldin Pasha’s eldest son
Fuad and the house’s role as the unofficial headquarters
of the Wafd party. Fuad Pasha Serageldin became Secretary-General
of the dominant Wafd party and accumulated cabinet posts before
the 1952 Revolution. Party politics were suspended under Nasser’s
socialist one-party regime but reinstated with restrictions
under Sadat. Fuad Serageldin revived the New Wafd Party in 1977
as an opposition party, but it was promptly banned by Sadat,
then resumed its activities under Mubarak. The patriarch of
the Serageldin family and the last of Egypt’s pre-revolutionary
pashas, Fuad Pasha died at the age of ninety in the summer of
2000, a few months before the publication of his niece Samia
Serageldin’s semi-autobiographical novel, The Cairo
House. Since his death, the residence remains unoccupied,
although it is still in the family.
The novel incorporates many scenes from the political history
of the Cairo House, such as the event of the public announcement
of the dissolution of the New Wafd party.
"That
Sunday the local and foreign press corps was there in force
in the vast hall of the Cairo house. Gigi peered down from the
gallery at the cameras and lights set up below, the cables winding
around the bases of the thick, rose marble columns. Having decided
against the sweeping staircase at his age, her uncle took the
rickety elevator down to the ground floor, catching the assembled
journalists by surprise. He took his seat on a gilded bergère
that had been set for him in the middle of the hall... There
was a hush as the Pasha announced that he had a statement to
make after which he would take more questions. He made his short
announcement and Gigi translated into English, then French.
There was a moment of silence as the words sank in. He had announced
the dissolution of the party, in effect calling Sadat's bluff.
Rather than relinquish control over his party and allow it,
under more malleable leadership, to join the ranks of Sadat's
rubber-stamping 'loyal opposition,' he had dissolved it. Somehow,
he had mustered the votes to do so within 48 hours." (p.
108)
In the author’s
own words:
“While I was writing
the book, I thought the title was something I could decide on
later. But in effect I realized that I would only know what
the book was about when I knew what the title was. And the title
is The Cairo House because the novel, for me, is not just about
Gihan, nor even just about her family clan, but about an entire
era in Egyptian twentieth century history that witnessed the
rise, and fall, of the nationalist movement, party politics,
and the Egyptian landowning bourgeoisie. The history and fate
of the house reflect this pivotal era that spanned a century
and came to an end with the passing away of the last Pasha at
the turn of the 21st C.
As I write in The Cairo
House:
“I
made my way down the sweeping staircase, sliding my hand along
the cold marble banister until it rested on the head of the
griffon at the bottom. I sneaked a quick photo of the shadowy
hall, knowing he flash would be completely inadequate to light
its expanse. I would have liked to turn on the lights in the
monstrous crystal chandeliers, to photograph the marble staircase,
to unlock the double doors to the salon on one end of the hall
and the dining room on the other. I wanted to commit to memory
this house that I might never see again. It was the last private
home in this row of houses that had once belonged to friends
and relatives and had now been turned into embassies, one after
the other. One day soon I would only be able to drive past The
Cairo House, and it would be flying a foreign flag.” (p.
171)
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