Cairo, 1940
“Here, in the Automobile Club, the thieves don the finest clothes, douse themselves in cologne and then disport themselves in a sort of pantomime of respectability.”
Alaa Al Aswany’s The Automobile Club of Egypt is a richly woven tale set in 1940s Egypt, a time when the country was struggling under British colonial rule, economic disparity, and the weight of its own monarchy’s decadence. Through the lens of a single establishment—the Automobile Club, a luxurious retreat for European aristocrats, Egyptian royalty, and their subjugated Egyptian staff—Al Aswany constructs a microcosm of an entire nation on the brink of upheaval. While the novel begins with a seemingly simple family tree of the Hamama and Gaafar families, the reader should not be deceived by this straightforward introduction. The novel is brimming with a large and colorful cast of characters, each brought to life through vignettes, idiosyncrasies, and richly textured storytelling. The family trees offer only a glimpse into the book’s deeper theme: how power structures organize and stratify society into rigid groups—the royal household and nobility, the British colonial elite, and the Egyptian working class.
At the heart of the novel is Kamel Gaafar, the everyman protagonist who walks the straight and narrow path, hoping to provide stability, normalcy, and dignity to his family. Unlike his brothers, Kamel neither indulges in hedonism nor abandons his roots. Instead, he chooses the difficult path of quiet perseverance, working diligently at the club while pursuing his education. Yet, for all his efforts, Kamel cannot escape his destiny. In a society where the rules are stacked against men like him, even those who attempt to live honestly and with integrity are swept up by forces beyond their control.
The People at the Periphery of the Automobile Club
The novel follows the Gaafar family, once wealthy landowners who, after financial ruin, are forced into Cairo’s working-class reality. The father, Abd el-Aziz Gaafar, seeks dignity in his labor but finds only tyranny and injustice under Alku, the ruthless chamberlain of the Automobile Club and a confidant of the corrupt King Farouk. When he dares to demand dignified treatment, he is beaten and later dies, leaving his family shattered. His children—each navigating Egypt’s rigid social hierarchy in their own way—offer readers multiple perspectives on privilege, oppression, and the possibility of change. But to understand the novel’s full scope, one must look beyond the Gaafars to the intricate web of ‘secondary’ characters, whose lives provide the true soul of the novel.
Among them is Ali Hamama, an ashish-addled grocer, infamous for a botched circumcision that led him to abandon his former trade in favor of a dimly lit grocery shop near the railway station. His wife, Aisha, is equally memorable—a lusty woman whose pastime consists of crude gossip and suggestive banter, particularly when hanging laundry near a student residence, her galabiyya strategically unbuttoned. Then there is Bahr, the consummate professional barman, a man so devoted to his craft that he looks completely out of place anywhere but behind the club’s polished counters. He is part of the Big Four, the tight-knit inner circle of senior club staff, alongside Chef Rikabi, maître d’ Shakir, and casino manager Yusuf Tarboosh. Each of these characters, while seemingly peripheral, represents different facets of Egyptian society under British rule—the exploited, the scheming, the resigned, and the quietly subversive.
Comparable Books
While its historical setting is rooted in a bygone era, the novel resonates with timeless themes of power, class struggle, and resistance, much like Naguib Mahfouz’s Cairo Trilogy, which explored the transformations of Egyptian society across generations. It also carries echoes of internationally celebrated works of political fiction, such as Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, which examines the impact of colonial rule on African identity, or Orhan Pamuk’s My Name is Red, where the conflict between tradition and modernity plays out in miniature. Aswany, a writer known for his sharp political commentary, presents The Automobile Club of Egypt not merely as a historical novel, but as a meditation on oppression in all forms—political, social, and personal.
The Politics of Power and Subjugation
At the heart of the novel is the Automobile Club itself, a grand establishment that should symbolize progress and modernity but instead embodies stagnation, submission, and colonial exploitation. Egyptians are only permitted inside as workers, existing in a rigid hierarchy dictated by their European superiors. At the top of this hierarchy is Alku, the Nubian chamberlain of the club, a Svengali-like figure who wields condign power with an iron fist. He is an expert union-busting tactician, running the club as his own fiefdom while ensuring that the Egyptian staff remain subservient. Yet, for all his ruthlessness, he crumbles when dealing with foreigners, exposing the contradictions inherent in his position.
The brutality of colonial rule is explored through the racist policies of the club’s British management, particularly James Wright, who, like many of the colonial elite, believes Egyptians are unfit to govern themselves. His view is not unlike the imperial condescension in George Orwell’s Burmese Days, where the British Raj rules through a combination of violence and paternalistic disdain. However, Aswany does not present all the Egyptian characters as heroes in contrast to their oppressors. The Egyptian monarchy, particularly King Farouk, is as complicit in maintaining this unequal system as the British themselves. The King, who is never directly named in the novel but whose presence looms over the narrative, indulges in gambling, corruption, and hedonistic pleasures, all while his people suffer.
A Story Without Resolution: The Frustration of Injustice
One of the novel’s most divisive aspects is its abrupt ending, which leaves many character arcs unresolved. Readers expecting a satisfying conclusion to the political and personal turmoil are instead left with a sense of unfinished struggle. This narrative choice reflects a broader truth about history—social change is often slow, painful, and incomplete.
Perhaps this unresolved nature is the novel’s greatest strength. Instead of offering a neatly wrapped resolution, Aswany forces the reader to sit with the frustration of injustice, just as many Egyptians must have felt during the period depicted in the novel—and perhaps even now, in the modern political climate. The novel does not ask whether Egypt will change, but rather, who will make it change, and at what cost?
Conclusion: A Powerful Addition to Global Political Fiction
While The Automobile Club of Egypt is distinctly Egyptian in its setting, themes, and historical references, it belongs to a broader literary tradition of political fiction that critiques power and its abuses. By telling a story that is at once personal and political, historical and contemporary, Al Aswany ensures that his novel resonates far beyond its immediate context.
Ultimately, The Automobile Club of Egypt is more than just a novel about a family, a club, or even a country. It is a meditation on power, dignity, and the price of defiance—questions that remain relevant, no matter where in the world one is reading it.