, the founding director of Cairo's most active alternative press, Miret, tells Rania Khallaf about his plans for 2005 Established only six years ago, Miret has nonetheless made a name for itself, drawing older and younger writers alike. Publishing both fiction and nonfiction, the house provides an outlet for a range of voices from avant-garde literary experiments to contentious political commentary; it is perceived by many as a necessary supplement to the bureaucratically laden, uninspired work of state publishers and the money-driven, largely conservative publishing policies of the private sector. The office is located on one of the busiest downtown thoroughfares; and its active if nonetheless leisurely atmosphere reflects the philosophy of its owner, , a garrulous writer and activist as well as a publisher who believes in plurality, long-term commitment and awareness of the larger (political as well as intellectual) picture. No sooner do I mention 2005 than he begins to list "the more important titles". El-Sayed Yassin's new book on reform, he says, underlines the importance of revising the constitution, discussing, with critical honesty, the political future of Egypt. Dealing with the same subject, Nabil Abdel-Fattah's latest collection of essays -- "Many of these were first published in Al- Ahram ", Hashem points out in passing -- provide valuable insights into political and economic life. Both books are opinionated, engaged, as passionate as they are knowledgeable. "This year," Hashem goes on, "we're producing the first dictionary of religion of its kind, which covers Islam, Christianity and Judaism -- a translation from the English original -- the result of 25 years of painstaking research undertaken by two translators, academics from Alexandria. We're also starting a new tradition," he barely gives me time to breathe, "and publishing research papers, like Samer Soliman's thesis on crisis management under Mubarak..." Left to his own devises, Hashem will not even mention fiction and poetry, so absorbed is he by the topics at hand, but prompted he names the latest books by, among others, the 1970s veteran Mahmoud El- Wardani, young novelist Yasser Ibrahim, young poetess Hoda Hussein and the Nubian writer Idris Ali -- exciting new material, all of it. The house's more or less oppositional stance comes through in the non-fiction titles especially -- almost all engage with the most controversial issues -- but Hashem insists, contentiously, that Miret has "no publishing policy as such". It bows to neither ideological currents nor cultural fads, he elaborates. "That our books should be well-written and properly researched: this is the only requirement we make. No commercial books allowed, either: that's not what we exist for. Of course, we do have conditions," he points out at last, "and one of these is that 70 per cent of our output must be fiction and poetry. I think this is unique among public and private sector publishers in Egypt. So is the fact that we adopt younger voices -- poets and novelists making their debuts, excellent writers who would otherwise remain unpublished." No sooner has Hashem denied the existence of a policy than he begins to outline one, however. He speaks about a Yes-culture and a No- culture, identifying the house with the latter: "We challenge censorship of every kind, we are a liberal institution. And so we try to say no to the state's cultural and political policies. The Yes culture is prevalent enough in our government-controlled press and media, so we see it as part of our responsibility to promote the opposite standpoint." He mentions, by way of example, Kamal Naguib's book on the totalitarianism of education in Egypt, and a volume on the Iraqi resistance compiled by three Arab writers. "Success is really about making these and other very important books available to the readership," he explains. Yet in 2005 it is in the arena of translations that Miret's success will likely be felt most clearly: at the last Frankfurt Book Fair Hashem bought the rights to this year's Nobel laureate Elfriede Jelinek's The Piano Player, an unprecedented deal concluded with the help of the German institution Lytrix, which covered the cost of the translation, enabling Miret to offer the book at a lower price than the Arab competition. And this is but one of numerous German books to be published in Arabic translation by Miret, Hashem adds -- the result of networking undertaken in the course of the fair. This was Miret's second year in Frankfurt. "And I benefited a lot from participating this year," Hashem declaims, "especially in issues of marketing and price tag. Already we're trying to apply what we've learned," he sounds more enthusiastic than ever, "introducing book launches, for example, with authors signing their books. Such events are new to the house, and we look forward to the benefits they will bring us." It is the business aspect of publishing that Hashem seems to be addressing here, and participation in book fairs, he explains, is essential to success. Yet the budget being what it is -- "We still operate on a very small scale," he concedes -- Miret is relying on big private-sector names like Dar Al-Shurouq and Madbouli to present its books at Arab fairs, for example, where, unlike Frankfurt, publishers are expected to cover their expenses. Such lateral thinking has not extended to the establishment, however, and collaboration with the government, Hashem feels, is unlikely to be forthcoming. Since publicly supporting novelist Sonalla Ibrahim's refusal to accept the Culture Council's Conference of the Novel's grand prix in 2003, Miret has been blacklisted, he says, excluded from the distribution lists of the General Egyptian Book Organisation (GEBO) and other government publishers: "It is hoped that we will enjoy better relations with GEBO now it is directed by the writer Wahid Abdel-Meguid..." But Hashem is not about to let go of the chance to make his trademark statement, irrespective of the context in which he happens to be speaking. "We have no policy as such," he says again, "but even though we are one of very few liberal, left-wing forums that remain throughout the Arab world, we insist on maintaining our sense of identity, which is defined by our hatred for Israel, and for colonialism in general, as much as anything else. That," he concludes, "we cannot compromise."
