Nasser's Pal

In the censor-dominated world of Arab journalism, there are some things one just does not do. Like dismissing Nasser's Arab Socialist Union as a "do-nothing organization," or belittling Arab commandos for shedding "more ink than blood," or ridiculing Egyptian "diplomats who are doing nothing but buying cars, or ties and perfume from Paris." One man not only writes such things but also gets away with it. In addition to being editor and voice of Egypt's biggest and most authoritative newspaper, AI Ahram (The Pyramids), Mohammed Hassanein Heikal happens to be Nasser's closest confidant, adviser and friend.

Ease Off. His intimacy is such that he can blithely riffle through the "In" box in Nasser's office. A word from him, and a journalist or foreign businessman gets an interview with the U.A.R. President. When a research employee was jailed for reporting critically on Egypt's economy, Heikal not only got the man freed and the report released but also forced Intelligence Chief Amin Huweidi to write a letter-to-the-editor explaining why he had tried to suppress the report in the first place. Lamented Huweidi later: "Centers of power are supposed to have been abolished, but one big power center obviously remains." Even Heikal's detractors readily concede that next to Nasser himself, Heikal is the most powerful man in Egypt today.

Though Heikal's influence derives directly from his intimacy with Nasser, it is amplified by his weekly article in the Friday (Sabbath) edition of Al Ahram. The night it goes to press, more than a dozen embassy chauffeurs wait until the first copies are printed, and then speed back to their offices for immediate translation. Al Ahram's Friday circulation jumps by a third and wire services rush out stories on what Heikal has written, knowing it to be an accurate reflection of Nasser's thinking.

Since the Six-Day War, Heikal's discursive prose (two columns on Page One and a full page inside) has dealt primarily with what in Egypt is known as "the Setback." Last April, Heikal managed to offend just about everyone from the Pentagon to Pravda when he advocated "a battle to shatter the myth of Israeli military supremacy . . . one in which the Arab forces might destroy two or three Israeli divisions, kill between 10,000 and 20,000 men, and force the Israeli army to pull back even a few kilometers." When a barrage of public and private entreaties followed, Nasser reportedly passed the word to his friend to ease off, and "the battle" has not been mentioned seriously since.

What About Farouk? In his column last week in fact, Heikal contended that "those who called for an immediate military solution through war realize that after two years this challenge is larger than, they had imagined." As for a peaceful solution, its "exponents find themselves face to face with the inevitability of the need to struggle." His conclusion (undoubtedly cleared with Nasser) is a study in hard-line ambiguity: "Force is the only way, and force is a long and hard course of many stages and various methods."

Chunky, 5 ft. 9 in. and dark, Heikal displays a thorough but careful command of English, flashing his near-perfect white teeth and waving his omnipresent Havana cigar. He was born 45 years ago in a small village near Cairo, and made his reputation as a war correspondent in 1948 in Palestine, where he first met Captain Gamal Abdel Nasser. By 1952 they had become fast friends. Just before the revolution, Nasser pointedly asked him what he thought should be done about the Farouk regime. "I knew then," Heikal says, "that something was afoot and that they had confidence in me."

The day the revolution began in July of 1952, Heikal was with the leaders. "I drove [General Mohammed] Naguib to his command post," he told TIME Correspondent Lee Griggs. "Nasser was there. They had control of Cairo but were worrying about the rest of the country. It was a busy and exciting night." He has been Nasser's all but official press spokesman ever since.

Recognizing Heikal's influence, the controlling family of the highly influential but nearly bankrupt Al Ahram approached him in 1956 with an offer to run the paper. Within two years, with Nasser's support, he had put it in the black. Today its circulation approaches half a million and its plant is as luxurious and modern as any in the world, with British presses, West German engraving equipment, and a U.S. computer system that sets Arabic type by means of punched tape.

When a law was passed in 1960 putting papers under the jurisdiction of the Arab Socialist Union (Egypt's only political party), Heikal went straight to Nasser: "I got his assurance that, if we could grow, make money and not compromise the revolution, there would be no problem." Rarely has there been.

Nasser backs Heikal not only because they are friends but because the editor is also extremely useful to him. Even Heikal's occasional criticism of the regime--always within safe bounds --is of advantage to Nasser. It acts as a safety valve for popular grievances. Nasser himself has even planted criticisms of this or that functionary or institution with Heikal, then taken action under the guise of bowing to popular will. Heikal puts his influence to good use, battling the bureaucrats and campaigning for a freer press and civil liberties in a country that often views such activities as subversive.

At the end of his ten-hour work day, Heikal heads home to a luxurious Cairo apartment to relax with his wife and three sons. His very presence makes the apartment building a coveted address because, says a Cairo diplomat, "everything works--or else." His comfortable existence is marred only by a thin shadow of danger. His outspokenness (some call it arrogance) has earned him enemies, and his survival--like his power--rests with a single man. "If Nasser ever goes," says one well-placed Egyptian, "Heikal had better be on the next plane out of the country."

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