After White had my initial approval to supervise my doctoral dissertation, it remained for me to choose a topic for this thesis, and I was sometimes divided among many topics, until I decided to work on Thomas Edward Lawrence's Seven Pillars of Wisdom or Lawrence of Arabia. It was agreed between us that the title of the thesis would be "The Desert Experience of T. E. Lawrence: Geography, Politics, Poetics, Wisdom".
I think that the first thing that I would do well to start talking about this thesis is the day of its discussion, after everything that made me reassured that I had done a good job worthy of mention and praise, I was surprised on this day that this work, contrary to what I thought, had agitated a member of the discussion committee and made him lose his rightness, so that he exceeded all limits of decency while continuing to humiliate and humiliate me personally, before underestimating my efforts.
I learned from André that the university had taken a decision against the professor who mistreated me, which was to deprive him for life from discussing any thesis at the Sorbonne, as well as to deny him the right to run for admission to the faculty of this university.
One of the manifestations of his deliberate humiliation was that he did not show up on time, so that the administrative officials in charge of arranging the discussion had to call him many times, sometimes his wife replied that he was on his way to university, and sometimes no one answered them, even if everyone despaired of his presence after nearly an hour, he picked up the phone to say that he would leave the house. While everyone stood in amazement at the stranger's behavior, it made me feel a pain, like a needle prick in my chest, the likes of which I had never felt in my life. And how can I not suffer when I see years of sacrifice and toil in vain!
His words still ring in my ears today, as if I were standing in front of him. "Mr. Haji, I would not have attended if I had not seen in your thesis what reflects scientific competence and research ability. Let me tell you that the flaw in this thesis is due to poor framing..." Upon hearing these words, White realized that the man's arrows were directed at him, so he interrupted him sarcastically, "Excuse me! If I remember well, I discussed my thesis 20 years ago; today we are gathered here to discuss Mr. Haji's thesis..."
This eccentric professor resumed his speech with his preys trembling to pour out his anger on me and bring out the anger inside him as he said, "Do you know where you are? You are in Paris; hundreds of years of urbanization! How do you allow yourself to talk this nonsense! nomadism and nomadism..."
The news of what happened during the discussion of my thesis spread and spread within the corridors of the English department within the University of "Sorbonne 4", I was surprised by all the administrators who are watching over doctoral affairs and others who show sympathy for me and offer me an apology for what happened, saying that what happened to me never happened like it at the university, and some of them were encouraging me to write a letter of protest to the presidency of the university.
After a short time, I received a letter from Professor "André Guillaume" and his wife "Renée" offering me their apology as if they were responsible for what happened, and asking me kindly to accept the invitation to visit them at their home in the city of "Orléans", stressing that they will book my ticket back and forth, asking me kindly to tell them the details of what is permissible for me and what is not permissible in terms of food so that I do not find any embarrassment during my stay with them.
The warm welcome with which André and Ronnie faced me was a great consolation and expression of sympathy that struck me at the humiliation and humiliation I faced on the day my thesis was discussed. "Poor White, he will remain a dreamy poet, far from reality who does not understand what is happening around him, he does not know that the chair of 20th century poetry given to him by Jacques Chirac, who was the mayor of Paris at the time, opened the doors of hostility on him from all sides," said André. I learned from André that the university had taken a decision against the professor who mistreated me, to deprive him for life of the discussion of any thesis within the Sorbonne, as well as to deny him the right to run for admission to the faculty of this university.
André and Rooney lamented that White had not paid attention to either of them and were translating the Seven Pillars of Wisdom into French. Had they known, they could have helped by suggesting appropriate and respected people to discuss the two valuable theses, in their view. They expressed this view in more than one reference on the sidelines of the translation of "The Seven Pillars of Wisdom", arguing that the thesis opens a new horizon by addressing the literary-poetic aspect of this book. Andre and Rooney's admiration for the work did not stop at praise, but they suggested that I send it to the respected publishing house L'Harmattan, and they expressed to me their willingness to write a letter of recommendation. Much of the credit for publishing my book on Lawrence of Arabia or Lawrence Arabia goes mainly to them, and then to White.
I must open here an arc to talk about the nature of the relationship that I have developed between me and André and Rooney, a relationship that has been filled with great respect and appreciation, and which went beyond the limits of academic exchange to the human aspect.
Andre and we exchanged about their youth in Britain, where they were visiting professors shaping their scientific future, did not hesitate every time he mentioned Rooney's mother to describe her with the dirtiest epithets, such as saying, "My dear mother-in-law, who, if I threw her into the sewage, would have poisoned all the rats." I carried his words on a British sense of humor.
Ronnie used to say in more than one place that she wanted to convert to Islam if it weren't for the fear of the reaction of her son, who finally found a kind of tranquility near a group of Christians. I learned that their son had attempted suicide, that he remained introverted and did not speak, and when he spoke after he was late, his speech was poetry. I was awkward to explain the reasons until Ronnie sent me a copy of her book Un silence assourdissant.
I do not remember that my eyes shed tears like I shed while reading Ronnie's book, and I discovered that the reason why their son withdraws himself and all the tragedies the family experienced as a result of this introversion is - as everyone will discover years later - that the son was the victim of repeated rape when he was young, and that the rapist was no one other than his grandfather, Roni's father, in the presence and blessing of his grandmother. While Andre and Ronnie left their son, their dearest possessions, a deposit with her parents as they pursued the hope of reaching high positions, the grandfather was undermining the foundations of the family they dreamed of raping his grandson.
The relationship between Andre and Rooney and I remained strong, marked by respect and appreciation. I made sure to visit them every time I had the opportunity. But the real communication between us was through postal correspondence. I eagerly awaited Rooney's letters, as they brought with them great existential questions and deep reflections on literature, history, religion and the human soul. I found it incomparable pleasure in interacting with these still handwritten letters.
Andrei didn't like to write. He would just send newspaper clippings with some news that he thought important to me with a few short notes in his own handwriting. I enjoyed talking about the insides and secrets of French politics, about Jacques Chirac's relationship with Africa, with which he had a partisan relationship, and about the history of the monarchy in Britain.
I learned from him one day, as we chatted about the relationship between Islam and France, that Vincent Mansour Monteil, the translator of Ibn Khaldun's introduction into French, this man whom I would like to meet, lives hiding in an attic inside a building in Paris, from which he does not come out for fear of being assassinated. He told me that the popular among the Parisian elite is that the man has been mentally disturbed.
André and Ronnie were cut off from me years later, and while I was in Orléans in the summer of 2015 I decided to visit them; I stood at their door hesitantly, should I knock on the door or not? Are they still alive? The place was completely quiet except for the sound of the bell ringing inside. Before I could turn back to my car, I heard the shutter of the balcony door open, and Ronnie looked at me from behind him with a pale face that had blurred the signs of life. I thought she looked and didn't see. I greeted her and reminded her of my name and who I am. "Excuse me sir, I don't know you!" she said in a low voice. Then she hid behind the balcony door shutter.
Ronnie's melancholy tone of voice was a shorthand for the tragic human condition.
I close the arc, to return to detail the most important ideas around which the doctoral thesis revolved and the conflicts and discoveries that accompanied it.
(to be continued)