The Levanter (7 page)

‘’Yes, yes, of course.” He had risen nicely to that bait, as I had hoped he would.

The senior official leaned forward. “I take it that your proposals for furniture manufacture are equally unconventional, Mr. Howell?”

“I believe so, sir. No camel-saddle chairs, no ornamental coffee tables, but modern office and hotel furniture of Western design and, again, mass-produced. Some relatively inexpensive machine tools would have to be imported, as would the plastics we would need for surfacing, but the metal fittings could be made here.”

Dr. Hawa returned to the attack. “But in the metal-working field you would surely be thinking in terms of such things as Western-style cutlery.”

“No, Dr. Hawa.”

A sly smile. “Because your Lebanese and Egyptian companies already sell expensive cutlery imported from the United Kingdom?”

So he had done some homework after all.

“No,” I answered, “because the Japanese already dominate the market for mass-produced cutlery. We could never compete. I am thinking in terms of door fastenings, catches, bolts, hinges - building hardware that can be made in quantity using jigs and dies and some inexpensive machine tools such as drill and stamping presses. There must also be modern finishing processes. Handicraft standards would not be adequate.”

The senior official intervened once more. “You again emphasize the use of inexpensive machines, Mr. Howell, but isn’t it the expensive machines which make the inexpensive and competitively priced goods?”

I replied carefully. “Where labour costs are-high that is certainly true. We should endeavour to strike a balance. Labour intensive projects, I agree, are of no value to Syria. But in the refugee camps we have a source, still largely untapped, of unskilled and semi-skilled labour. Under Syrian foremen it could be trained and made useful. I have no doubt that as we progressed we would need, and could use, machine tools that were less simple and more expensive. Our ability to buy them would certainly be one measure of our success. Our inability to do so in the beginning, however, should not foredoom us to failure. In properly guided hands even simple machines can do a lot.”

“It is a relief,” said Dr. Hawa nastily, “to know that Mr. Howell has at least considered the possibility of failure.”

“I have tried to consider all the possibilities, Doctor. I have proposed that the government uses our company and its assets to advance the public interest. Whether you use us or not, or how you use us, are questions which will not, I imagine, be answered today. But if we are to be used, and used successfully, I submit that we can serve you best in the ways I have suggested, employing our limited resources to reach limited but realistic objectives in the foreseeable future.”

The senior official was nodding encouragingly, so I went on quickly before Hawa could interrupt “The projects I most favour, the ones we have been discussing in general terms, are those which can be most easily tried and tested by means of pilot operations. I believe such operations to be essential. When we make mistakes, as we will, they should be on a small scale and rectifiable. On the other hand, all pilot operations, to be of real value, must be big enough for us to make accurate forecasts, projections of our full-scale needs - for raw materials, for example. Simple arithmetic can sometimes be misleading.”

“It can indeed!” Dr. Hawa blew smoke across the table; he had taken charge again. “Having been treated to some entertaining flights of fancy, perhaps we may now return to more prosaic matters. Mr. Howell, are you in fact proposing that the Agence Howell’s blocked funds should be employed entirely to finance these splendid schemes of yours?”

“No,” I said bluntly, “I most certainly am
not
proposing that.”

Then I fail to see...”

“Allow me to finish, please. Firstly, the amount of company capital available, if it can be made available, would be quite inadequate for the projects we have been discussing. What I am proposing is that company funds are employed to finance and manage the
pilot
operation in each case. When, and only when, a pilot project has proved itself does it go forward into full-scale production. At that point the government takes over the financing and the company becomes a minority shareholder in a government owned cooperative.’’

Dr. Hawa rolled his eyes in theatrical amazement.

“You would expect me to believe, Mr. Howell, that you and your company would be prepared to work for nothing?”

“No, I don’t. We would expect something in the way of management fees for our work in organizing and developing the projects. They could be nominal, enough to cover normal overhead expenses, let us say. Naturally, all such arrangements would be covered in the formal agreements made between the department of the government concerned and the company.” I paused slightly before I added: “It would, of course, be one of the conditions of our entering into such agreements that our company is granted exclusive agencies for the sale abroad of the products of these joint ventures. I think that sole and exclusive agencies for a period of, say, twenty-five years would be fair and reasonable.”

There was a silence, and then the senior official began making a throat-clearing sound which developed after a moment or two into words of protest.

“But . . . but. . .” He did not seem quite able to go on. Finally, he threw up his hands. “You could make a fortune!” he cried.

I shook my head. “With respect, sir, I think we are more likely to lose one. However, since our fortune here is now at risk anyway, I would like to reduce the odds against it if I can.”

“The government would never agree.”

“Again with respect, sir, why not? They will be running no risks. By the time they are asked to fund a project, all the risks will have been run for them. It can only be for the good of the economy then, and for the people. Why should they not agree?”

Dr. Hawa said nothing; he was lighting yet another cigarette; but he seemed to be amused.

A month later the first of the draft agreements was initialled; by me on behalf of the company and by Dr. Hawa on behalf of the newly formed People’s Industrial Progress Cooperative.

The news had a mixed reception in Beirut, and I had to preside over an unusually prolonged board meeting. My sisters, Euridice and Amalia, both had husbands who, with one qualifying share apiece, attended these meetings as voting directors.

This lamentable arrangement had been initiated by my father in the last months of his life; mainly, I think, because it made him uneasy to see more women than men seated around a boardroom table - even when the women in question were his own wife and daughters. Having dealt so much with Muslims over the years, he had become inclined in some ways to think like them. By the time he had learned to regret the arrangement, however, he was too ill and tired to do anything about rescinding it. That task he had bequeathed to me, and, since I was unwilling to precipitate a major family quarrel during my first year in command, I had postponed taking the necessary action.

I don’t dislike my brothers-in-law; they are both worthy men, but one is a dentist and the other an associate professor of physics. Neither of them knows anything about business. Yet, while both would be understandably affronted if I offered to advise them in their professional capacities, neither has ever hesitated for a moment to tender detailed criticisms of, and advice about, the management of our company. They regard business, somewhat indulgently, as a sort of game which anyone with a little common sense can always join in and play perfectly. With the dreadful persistence of those who argue off the tops of their heads from positions of total ignorance, they would make their irrelevant points and formulate their senseless proposals while my sisters took it in turn to nod their idiotic heads in approval. Having to listen to these blithe fatuities was almost as exhausting as having later to dispose of them without being unforgivably offensive. No, I don’t dislike my brothers-in-law; but there have been times when I have wished them dead.

Their immediate and enthusiastic approval of my Syrian agreement was, therefore, both disconcerting and disquieting.

Giulio the dentist, who is Italian, became quite eloquent on the subject. “It is my considered opinion,” he said, “that Michael has been both statesmanlike and farsighted. Dealing with idealists, ideologues perhaps in this case, is no easy matter. In their minds all compromise is weakness, and negotiation a mere path to treason. The radical extremist of whatever stripe is consistently paranoid. Yet there are chinks even in their black armour of suspicion, and Michael has found the most vulnerable self-interest and greed. We have no need of gunboats to help us do our business. This agreement is the modern way of doing things.”

“Nonsense!” said my mother loudly. “It is the weak and shortsighted way.” She stared Giulio into silence before she turned again to me. “Why,” she continued sombrely, “was this confrontation necessary? Why, in God’s name, did we ourselves invite it? And why, having merely discussed an agreement, did we fall into the trap of signing it? Oh, if your father had been alive!”

“The agreement is not signed, Mama. I have only initialled a draft.”

“Draft? Hah!” She struck her forehead sharply with the heel of her hand, a method of demonstrating extreme emotion that did not disturb the careful setting of her hair. “And could you now disavow that initialling?” she demanded. “Could you now let our name become a byword in the marketplace for vacillation and bad faith?”

“Yes, Mama, and no.”

“What
do you say?”

“Yes to the first question, no to the second. A
draft agreement initialled is a declaration of intent. It is not absolutely binding. There are ways of pulling out if we wish to. I don’t think we should, but not for the reasons you give. There would be no question of bad faith, but it might well be thought that we had been bluffing. In that case we could not expect them to deal generously with us in the future.”

“But it was you, Michael, who took the initiative. Why? Why did you not wait passively until the time was ripe to employ those tactics which your father knew so well?” She had leaned forward across the table and was rubbing the thumb and third finger of her right hand together. Her second diamond ring glittered accusingly.

“I have explained, Mama. We are dealing with a new situation and a different type of man.”

“Different? They are Syrians, aren’t they? What can be new there?”

“A distrust of the past, a real wish for reform and determination to bring about change. I agree that a lot of their ideas are half-baked, but they will learn, and the will is there. I may add that if I had attempted to bribe Dr. Hawa, or even hinted at the possibility, I would certainly have been in jail within the hour. That much at least is new.”

They are still Syrians, and new men quickly become old. Besides, how do you know that the parties to your agreement will still be there in six months’ time? You see a changed situation, yes. But remember, such situations can change more than once, and in more than one direction.’’

I removed my glasses and polished them with my handkerchief. My wife, Anastasia, has told me that this habit of mine of polishing my glasses when I want to think carefully is bad. According to her it produces an effect of weakness and confusion on my part. She may be right; I can always count on Anastasia to observe my shortcomings and to keep the list of them well up to date.

“Let me be clear about this, Mama.” I replaced the glasses and put the handkerchief away. “There are many in Damascus, persons of experience, who think as you do. I believe that if Father were alive he would be among them. I also believe that he would be wrong. I don’t deny the value of patience. But just waiting to see which way the cat is going to jump and wondering which palms will have to be greased may simply be a way of doing nothing when you don’t think it safe to trust your own judgment. By going to these people rather than waiting for them to decide our fate in committee, we have secured solid advantages. With luck, our capital there can be made to go on working for us.”

She shook her head sadly. “You have so much English blood in you, Michael. More, I sometimes think, than your father had, though how such a thing could be I do not know.” Coming from my
mother these were very harsh words indeed. I awaited the rest of the indictment. “I well remember,” she went on steadily, “something that your father said in 1929. That was before you were born, when I was” - she patted her stomach - “when I was carrying you here. A British army officer had been staying in our house. An amateur yachtsman he was, and the yard had been doing some repairs to his boat. When he left he forgot to take with him a little red book he had been reading. It was a manual of infantry training, or some such thing, issued by the War Office. Your father read this book and one thing in it amused him so much that he read it aloud to me. ‘To do nothing,’ the War Office said, ‘is to do something definitely wrong’.” How your father laughed! ‘No wonder,’ he said, ‘that the British army has such difficulty in winning its wars!’.”

Only my brothers-in-law, who had not heard the story so many times before, laughed; but my mother had not finished yet.

“You, Michael,” she said, “have done things for which you claim what you call solid advantages. First advantage, compensation for loss of our Syrian businesses which we will not receive and which is therefore stolen from us. Second advantage, a license to subsidize with the stolen money, and much too much of your valuable time, some nonexistent industry producing nonexistent goods. Yes, we have the sole agency for these goods, if those peasants and refugees there can ever be made to produce them. But when will that be? If I know those people, not in my lifetime.”

She had, of course, put her finger unerringly on the basic weakness of the whole arrangement. I was to be reminded of that phrase about “nonexistent industry producing nonexistent goods” all too often during the months that followed. At the time all I could do was sit there and pretend to an unshaken calm that I certainly did not feel.

“Are there any questions?”