The Brotherhood Are Terrorists… But What About Dagalo?!

As I See

Adel El-Baz

1
With astonishing haste, Khalid Salik rushed to announce that the U.S. Congress is considering designating the Muslim Brotherhood as a terrorist organization. Khalid celebrated — unsurprisingly — for he remains a political adolescent, seduced by lies and petty machinations. Why? Because he believes that such a designation would make it easier to eliminate his political rivals, and he has no objection to wiping them out entirely under that label, clearing the way for him and his clique to sit comfortably atop Sudan’s throne. What a small, arrogant, ignorant man. He hasn’t read a single line from America’s long record of terrorist classifications, nor does he know that the U.S. has branded most resistance movements around the world as “terrorist” before eventually reversing course whenever its interests shifted — as they always do. Today, even ISIS leaders roam freely in Washington!

If you asked Khalid what crime the Brotherhood committed to deserve being labeled a terrorist organization, he would shrink in embarrassment and mutter incoherently, as he always does when confronted with a question beyond his depth. What terrorist acts have the Brotherhood committed? When and where? Did they wipe out ethnic groups as happened in Geneina? Did they burn hospitals and kill patients as in El Fasher?
What exactly did they do?

If the Brotherhood — in their current weakened state — deserve, in America’s eyes, to be labeled terrorists, then what about the Dagalo militia, which has killed, annihilated, and committed every crime imaginable? Khalid has no answer except mumbling. Falsehood is always brittle; truth stands clear.

Khalid refuses to support designating the Dagalo gang as terrorists because — according to his absurd logic — such a label would “complicate” the war rather than solve it. But labeling the Brotherhood as terrorists solves the issue and doesn’t complicate it?!

Strangely, Khalid feels no shame drowning in contradictions and blatant falsehoods. With a face stripped of honesty and dignity, he and his cohort descend to new depths of exposed humiliation.

2
The Prince’s Steeds Rear… and the Thanks Go to Trump

“The UAE welcomes the efforts of President Trump, President of the United States of America, in preventing Sudan from sliding into extremism.” Thus read the UAE Foreign Ministry statement. The Emirates expressed gratitude for Trump’s efforts — efforts that have not yet taken place!

In reality, it was Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman who initiated contact, meeting Trump in Washington and urging him to intervene in Sudan’s war. Naturally, any state genuinely keen on stopping the war should thank Prince Mohammed bin Salman — not Trump, who merely listened to the Prince’s requests while barely aware of the situation.

But the UAE and its steadfast ally, the militia, chose instead to applaud Trump’s nonexistent efforts, conveniently forgetting — after a long silence — Saudi Arabia’s actual role.

The Prince’s horses rear… yet Abu Dhabi sends its thanks to Trump.
Truly astonishing.

3
In Loving Memory of Hashim Siddiq

As I sat listening to the speakers at the memorial held in Doha for my late friend, the poet and playwright Hashim Siddiq — may mercy be upon him — I drifted into thought. I wondered: If only these poems and tributes had reached him during his long solitude in his home in East Bant neighborhood, how happy he would have been. He would have departed this world content with the gratitude and loyalty shown to him that night.

But where were those celebrating Hashim Siddiq that evening throughout his years of isolation? We never heard a word from them. They never visited, never asked about his health, even as he spent years battling loneliness and nursing the many wounds inflicted upon him by figures within Sudan’s artistic community. Hashim lived among them “like a strange twilight bird.”

Nonetheless, my thanks go to the esteemed actor and loyal friend Al-Sunni Dafallah, whose tremendous effort enriched the event. I must also thank my friend, the artist Tariq Al-Amin, who did everything possible to commemorate Hashim Siddiq, organizing global tributes out of deep love and loyalty — reinforcing the people’s affection for a man who dedicated his life to them through poems, songs, and plays: from “Nabta Habibati” to “The Forbidden Smile” to “Laugh.”

A day will come when we tell our story with Hashim Siddiq — a friendship spanning decades, filled with untold tales.

Between our footsteps…
On the path of love
Stood loyalty
Like a tree…
Untouched by storms of discord
Or the wounds of time.

King Lear

No visit of mine to Cairo — to its bookstores, theaters, and cafés — is complete without praying two rak‘ahs at Al-Hussein Mosque. Every corner holds a memory steeped in joy and the warmth of friends. May Allah have mercy on Abdullah Hamdna, and bring my friend Al-Haj Warraq safely back to us. My consolation that night was that my friend Khalid Al-Tijani accompanied me to watch King Lear.

This time — a few weeks ago — I was astonished to see the Egyptian National Theatre revived after a long absence, returning with one of the great classics of Western drama: William Shakespeare’s King Lear, written in the early 17th century, first performed around 1605–1606, and published in 1608.

I first watched King Lear in fifth grade when Bakht Al-Rida’s theater scene was thriving, and teachers competed to stage Shakespeare’s works. Glorious days… if only they could return.

The play, in essence, is a tale of loyalty and betrayal. Lear abdicates his throne to his three daughters after asking each to declare her love for him. Goneril and Regan exaggerate with false flattery, while Cordelia refuses hypocrisy. Enraged, Lear disowns her. The two sisters seize power, reveal their true nature, humiliate their father, and cast him out. He wanders, broken, losing his sanity.

Meanwhile, in a parallel plot, Edmund betrays his father Gloucester and brother Edgar, plunging the kingdom into chaos. Cordelia returns with an army to save her father, but both are defeated; she is killed, and Lear dies of grief.

A sweeping tragedy — and a moral Shakespeare captured perfectly: “Hypocrisy leads to ruin.”

I wished I could invite some of the hypocritical politicians lounging in Cairo’s cafés to watch the play — they might have learned something useful — but I left after the performance for the Carthage Festival.

At the end of the show, I met the legendary actor Yehia El-Fakharany — may he be granted health and strength — performing King Lear at eighty with the vigor of a young man. (Wake up, our great teacher Maki Sunada!) Theater breathes life back into life.

My thanks to Professor of Drama Dr. Shams Al-Din Younis and his wife, my former student journalist Samah Taha, for their kind invitation. Their gesture gave me a precious escape from the sorrow and brutality saturating our days. My gratitude as well to the National Theatre Director, Ayman Al-Shiwi, for his warm welcome and kind words about the Sudanese.