The following fragments are excerpts from Mustafa Muharam’s book on Ahmed Zaki, which was compiled from the weekly articles that Muharam has written about the late star in the Egyptian weekly al-Qahira. Fragments chosen and translated by Karim Taroussieh.
It is so difficult for one to be objective when writing about Ahmed Zaki!
I can confidently ascertain that the kind of attention Ahmed Zaki received during his illness has far surpassed any attention that was ever accorded to another artist, whether in the field of acting or singing. I do not exempt here legends like Abdel Halim Hafez, Farid al-Atrash, Mohamed Abdel Wahab and Omm Kalthoum. I can also assert that Abdel Halim Hafez has gained more popularity, beyond his already exceptional popularity, during Ahmed Zaki’s illness due to a process of identification that entwined Ahmed Zaki’s illness with Halim’s. This identification was further fomented by Zaki’s last and incomplete performance of Abdel Halim Hafiz in the film Halim (Ahmed Zaki died before finishing the film).
I was on my way to Mustafa Mahmoud Mosque to attend Ahmed Zaki’s funeral. The mosque is close to my house. The trip was supposed to take me ten minutes by car; however, it took me half an hour to arrive at the mosque, only to find the whole area cordoned off by state security forces that had surrounded the entire vicinity created barriers that were hard to trespass. At first I thought the reason for such intense police presence was due to the participation of a number of ministers and top-ranking government officials in the funeral. But I soon realized that the real reason for so much intimidating police presence is the fear of public rebellion or uprising that could have transformed the funeral procession into a political demonstration, just as those that took place against British colonial presence inEgypt during the 1919 revolution.
The mourning public stood in disbelief. The chiefs of the police forces gave their orders to prematurely terminate the procession for security purposes. People had come from all over the country to mourn their favorite star, and they were denied this opportunity. Alas, fear—the motivating force of the current political regime in Egypt—aborted Ahmed Zaki’s funeral and denied those who loved him the opportunity to mourn him.
Ahmed Zaki started his career in the mid-seventies. By the early eighties, he had participated in a number of important films (including Youssef Chahine’s Iskandariya Leih? [Alexandria, Why?, 1978]); however, it was in the late 1980s when Zaki got a real break by costarring with big household names like Farid Shawqi, Mahmoud Yasin and Nadia al-Guindi in the film al-Batiniyya#. This film marks an important stage in the cinematic career of Ahmed Zaki. After the first screening of the film at Opera cinema house in Cairo, the public, wildly enthusiastic over Ahmed Zaki’s performance, carried him on their shoulders while chanting his name. I was glad that Farid Shawqi and Mahmoud Yasin had not attended the movie premiere!
Ahmed Zaki played the late president Gamal Abdel Nasser in the film Nasser 56 (1996). The film was a smash hit, proving that the great Arab leader was still in the popular consciousness, even for young people. But despite its massive commercial success, the film quickly disappeared from the movie theatres, rumors were floating around that the reason for this disappearance was politically motivated. Ahmed Zaki got depressed, especially since he had tasted real success for the first time in his career. However, with his exceptional wit, Zaki was able to rethink his career and strategize his next move. This time, he chose to play the late president Anwar Sadat (there was a series of moderately successful films in between both the Nasser and the Sadat films). Zaki thought that playing Sadat would not be as politically sensitive for the current regime as playing Nasser was: President Mubarak owes a lot to Sadat—after all, it was Sadat to brought Mubarak to power.
I think Ahmed Zaki was at his very best in his role in Daoud Abdel Sayed’s film Ard al-Khuf (Land of Fear, 1999). I also believe Ard al-Khuf to be one of the most important films in the history of Egyptian cinema. Zaki’s performance in this film is an exemplary case study in the art of acting.
A human being is born alone in the world and verily dies alone. But the life of an artist is not private; it is shared by many people and is constructed through the corpus of his or her artistic projects. Furthermore, the objective writings of a critic have an indelible impact in shaping an artist’s life. But objectivity is one of the most difficult ideals to be achieved in life—and besides, how can one be objective when writing about Ahmed Zaki!
