Osama Kamal discovers the story behind a statue of former King Fouad, hidden in the storerooms of the Suez Canal Authority in Port Said In a dark corner of a storehouse belonging to the Suez Canal Authority, a statue of King Fouad (1868-1936) has been collecting dust for decades, except for a brief period when it almost regained the glory its makers intended. Across the Canal from Port Said in the central square of Port Fouad there is an empty pedestal, and that's where the statue was originally destined. The story began on 1 November 1951, with newspaper headlines alerting the nation that the then King Farouk, Fouad's son, was going to sail on the royal yacht Fakhreddin to Port Fouad, where he was scheduled to unveil the statue in a public ceremony. However, the visit never took place. Just before the unveiling, clashes broke out along the Suez Canal where British forces were deployed. Egyptian guerrillas harassed the British forces in order to force them out of the country. The British replied with an ultimatum to the Egyptian police, who fought back and lost dozens of men in the process. The date of the battle, 25 January 1951, was later celebrated as Police Day. One day later, Cairo literally went up in flames, and six months after that Farouk lost his throne in the July Revolution. In the middle of the confusion, but without the benefit of a royal inauguration, the statue made it onto the pedestal. However, it didn't last long. The Free Officers, the new rulers of the country, ordered the statue to be removed as a symbol of the hated monarchy. It was taken back to the storehouse of the Suez Canal Company (which became the Suez Canal Authority after nationalisation in 1956) that had originally commissioned it. William Qawsa, 65, a Port Said historian, saw the statue in 2002, and was stunned. He recounts the story over coffee at the Tayaran café in Port Said. "I was working in the archives of the Suez Canal Authority in 2002, doing research into the old Suez Canal Company, including its freight trains, desks, office equipment, overalls and outfits, flags, and typewriters -- all stuff that goes back to the 19th century and the first part of the twentieth century." Qawsa had been heartbroken to learn that much of this material had been sold off as junk over the years. However, some things remained, including the statue. "One day, when I was walking around the storehouses I found the statue of King Fouad. It was a surprise to me. The statue had gathered layers of dust and was a bit dilapidated. My father, who used to work in the PR department of the old Suez Canal Company, had told me that the company had commissioned busts of various royal and national figures in the past. But what I found was not a bust, as my father had said, but a full-sized statue. I became obsessed with the statue. I read everything that I could find about it." Another man who shares Qawsa's interest in the statue is Mohamed Salaheddin Abul-Fotouh, 60. He came upon the statue during his work in the storehouses of the Suez Canal Authority and thought it was fitting that the former king should have a statue in the possession of the Suez Canal Authority, since, after all, an entire town -- Port Fouad -- is named after him. Being a member of the local council of the governorate of Port Said, Abul-Fotouh drew up a petition to restore the statue to its pedestal. The rest of the council agreed. As a result, the governorate asked its cultural department to re-erect the statue, and at a cost of LE20,000 it was restored and made as good as new. In July 2002, the statue was returned to its pedestal, but then all hell broke loose. Some people said that the move was a relapse into monarchical times, and others said that it was wrong to restore the statue to its pedestal in the middle of the celebrations of the 1952 Revolution. Eventually, the nay-sayers won, and the statue didn't survive on its pedestal for more than ten days. It wasn't even unveiled. Qawsa was obviously displeased, and he argues that there are many statues in Egypt today that are not half as historically significant as that of King Fouad, and yet these are on public display. One is the statue of Lazughli Pasha, Mohamed Ali's top lieutenant and the man credited with suggesting the massacre of the Mamluks that sealed Mohamed Ali's rule. Another is that of Simon Bolivar, a Venezuelan revolutionary leader who lived and died in Latin America. Painter Osama Abdel-Hamid, 38, who is known for his passion for Port Said, offers a historical argument for restoring the statue. In his view, King Fouad is part of history, whether we agree or disagree with his policies or with the monarchy. "There is no reason to remove the statue from its pedestal," Abdel-Hamid said. "The city of Port Fouad is named after him, and he even laid the foundation stone in December 1926. Abdel-Hamid has not been able to see the statue, since it was removed from its pedestal even before it was unveiled. But he says that it must be a fine specimen of sculpture, for the French artist who made it was known for his exceptional workmanship. Another statue, this time of Ferdinand de Lesseps, which used to be displayed in Port Said, is also a masterpiece, says Abbas El-Tarabili, a prominent Port Said artist. Abdel-Salam El-Alfi, a leading Nasserist politician, says that he sees nothing wrong with putting the statue back on display. Not only is the statue part of history, but King Fouad was also known for his opposition to the British occupation. Fouad did a lot for Egypt, El-Alfi says, since Banque Masr, Fouad I University (now Cairo University), the Egyptian Radio, the Drama Institute and the Arabic Language Academy were all created during his reign. Fouad also supervised the drafting of the 1923 constitution, which brought Egypt closer to liberalism. Does he deserve a statue, or will he have to wait another 50 years?
