An article that disappointed less from what it said and more from what it did not say.

By David E. Kaplan

I come across recently an article translated from Arabic penned  by Abdel Rahman Shalgha published in the London-based Asharq Al-Awsat titled :

“Searching for Anwar Sadat”

In these troubled turbulent times, I reached out with enthusiasm to read this piece by an Arab journalist that was “searching” – his word – for an inspirational leader in the Middle East. His role-model was the assassinated Egyptian president, Anwar Sadat, a brave warrior who risked in peace as much as he risked in war, who rose above the fears and prejudices of the masses to take risks for the ultimate goal of peace. Ask Israelis of President Sadat and the image that comes to mind is more the man who sought peace than who prosecuted war and who bravely boarded a plane that flew him into the bowels of his enemy to address its parliament – the Knesset.

Some will recall his deep voice resonating from the Knesset podium saying:

“Any life lost in war is a human life, irrespective of its being that of an Israeli or an Arab. A wife who becomes a widow is a human being entitled to a happy family life, whether she be an Arab or an Israeli.”

The warm response of the Israeli public was captured best at the time by Israel’s former PM Golda Meir, when addressing the Knesset on the 21 November, 1977, and directed these words to her former foe:

“Mr. President, I’m sure that from the moment your plane landed at Lydda Airport, and as you drove through the streets of Jerusalem, you must have felt, in all your encounters with the many people who turned out to meet you – the little children; the mothers with babies in their arms; the old people; the people who were born in this country, the second, third, fourth and fifth generations, and those who have come recently – that all, without exception, were overjoyed to see you in our Land.”

Such was the mood of Israelis in late 1977.

SOMETHING MAJORLY MISSING

So, it was about this caliber of a man in the Arab world I was hoping to read in Abdel Rahman Shalgha’s November 2025 article and his opening paragraph was promising:

“In the collective memory of nations and the chronicles of their history, there are names, years, and even entire centuries that endure, untouched by the passage of time or the tumult of events. Among them are the names of kings, presidents, and statesmen whose legacies remain etched in both the hearts of their people and the pages of history. The late Egyptian president Anwar Sadat  was one such man, born into an era of extraordinary transformation for Egypt, the Arab world, and the world at large.”

Then I kept reading. While interesting and informative, in the end, it was disappointingly deficient.  Hoping to read about the man who sought and brought peace to Egypt  with its greatest enemy, Israel – Not a word!

It was all about the man of war and nothing about the man of peace. It was about the man who spied and collaborated with the Nazis during WWII and who with “cunning” deceived the Israelis “that Egypt would not attack, only to shatter that illusion when Egyptian forces crossed the Suez Canal, breached the Bar-Lev Line, and rewrote the script of Middle Eastern history.”

But that “Middle East history” included finally the famous peace between Egypt and Israel, ensuring that countless Egyptian and Israeli lives were not to be needlessly lost.

Not a word about this!

The achievement of peace that should have been written as the highlight of the Egyptian president’s life deserves no mention? The word peace appears not to be in this journalist’s vocabulary – at least not in so far as to praise the attributes of his hero – Anwar Sadat!

Read below the rest of Abdel Rahman Shalgha article:

“In his memoir, In Search of Identity, he [Sadat] recounts the defining stages of his life, from his birth in the village of Mit Abu El Kom on the banks of the Nile to his rise as president of the Arab Republic of Egypt.

At the time, Egypt languished under British domination, its sovereignty curtailed, its military occupied, and its monarch reduced to a mere figurehead. Against this backdrop, a dark-skinned boy from the Nile’s banks absorbed the essence of Egypt – its history, struggles, and aspirations – and carried them within him.

Sadat wrote his life story in a simple, unpretentious style, describing the national and international figures who shaped his worldview. Among them, [Mohamed Darweesh] Zahran, a young Egyptian executed by the British after the Denshawai incident, stood out as a moral beacon whose courage and sacrifice burned indelibly in Sadat’s heart.

From his humble beginnings in Mit Abu El Kom to the charged atmosphere of Cairo – a city alive with political ferment and social tension – Sadat matured amid the turbulence of an occupied nation. He completed his secondary education and began a long, arduous journey through a labyrinth of nepotism and colonial control before finally entering the Military Academy.

After graduation, he served in various posts across the country, carrying with him an unyielding hatred for British rule. His first confrontation with colonial authority came with his involvement in the assassination of Amin Osman, a minister known for his staunch loyalty to Britain – a plot that landed Sadat in prison.

During World War II, as German and Italian forces advanced from eastern Libya into Egyptian territory, many Egyptians, Sadat among them, saw in the British defeats a glimmer of hope for liberation, even if it came through the hands of others.

In that spirit, Sadat helped plan an attempt to smuggle the nationalist officer Aziz Ali al-Misri into the Western Desert to contact the German command. The operation failed when al-Misri’s plane crashed, yet Sadat’s determination did not waver. Later, when two German spies in Cairo sought his help to repair a malfunctioning radio transmitter used to send intelligence to Berlin, Sadat, then in military intelligence, agreed to assist.

Discovered by British and Egyptian intelligence, he was imprisoned again and expelled from the army. Escaping confinement, he wandered the countryside in disguise as “Haj Muhammad,” working as a porter and laborer until a royal insider helped him return to the army and join the Royal Guard.

Sadat later recounted his efforts to organize a secret military network aimed at toppling the monarchy and ending British rule – efforts he claimed predated Gamal Abdel Nasser’s founding of the Free Officers Movement, though his colleagues in that movement would later dispute the account in their own memoirs.

I accompanied Sadat on his long journey through the pages of his autobiography, where he traced his life with all its trials, risks, and triumphs. Throughout, one sees a man in perpetual pursuit of an Egypt free from colonial chains. Perhaps it was Zahran, the martyred peasant of Denshawai, who served as the spiritual force sustaining him through years of struggle.

That thread of conviction runs through every stage of his life, from his seat on the Revolutionary Command Council to the emergence of the shrewd and daring strategist he became.

Sadat never held major ministerial posts and was never seen as a likely successor to Nasser. Yet upon Nasser’s death, he assumed the presidency and began, with quiet calculation, to consolidate his power, dismantling rival factions in a single stroke.

He reorganized Egypt’s military in preparation for war with Israel and redefined the nation’s alliance with Moscow. In an elaborate campaign of deception, he convinced Israel that Egypt would not attack, only to shatter that illusion when Egyptian forces crossed the Suez Canal, breached the Bar-Lev Line, and rewrote the script of Middle Eastern history.

In doing so, Sadat realized his lifelong dream: the recovery of Egyptian land, achieved with the boldness and cunning of a leader confident in his destiny.

I journeyed with Anwar Sadat through his remarkable life to say this: Amid the chaos, fragmentation, and imbalance that now define our region, perhaps it is worth revisiting the life of this man – not with nostalgia, but with a political mind attuned to lessons of endurance and foresight. For within Sadat’s journey, there may yet be a light to guide us over the dark hill of an uncertain future.”

And there you have it.

A well written in somewhat poetic praise of a man this journalist “accompanied …. on his long journey through the pages of his autobiography,” admiring his life “with all its trials, risks, and triumphs.” Sadly, among Sadat’s “triumphs”, this journalist does not recognise, acknowledge or mention – even in passing – the monumental 1979 peace treaty with  Israel. Think of it, together with Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin, Sadat received the 1978 Nobel Peace Prize for their roles in the Camp David Accords, which paved the way for the Egypt-Israel Peace Treaty and no mention of it!

How do you arrive at a point when writing about someone’s lifetime achievements and you deliberately omit being the recipient of a Nobel Prize?

Clearly for this journalist, Israel is unwelcome, a colonialist entity, a blot on the map, a stain  on a region exclusively reserved for Muslims or Arab-speaking folk. Sadly, it’s a perspective shared by the citizens of most, if not all, the countries bordering Israel and explains why Sadat was shot in 1981, and why the trigger-fingers of the assassins represented a multiple metaphor for millions of fingers around the Middle East.

Is it any wonder today that so many kids in the Arab world today are named Nasser after the uncompromising militant president that preceded Sadat, and very few, if any are named after the assassinated Anwar Sadat!

Whatever Abdel Rahman Shalgha is really “searching” for, it is not peace with Israel.

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