BETHLEHEM AND JERICHO
"We [are] the nucleus of something much bigger to come. We want to build the future of the Arab
world on a military basis. We are in a coma now.
It will take us at least ten years to awaken. Only
military regimes can accomplish this. . . ."
Captain Moustafa Kamal Sidki,
Egyptian Intelligence officer
I AWOKE to the violent shaking of my bed. It was morning, and I took a quick look around the room, my eyes alighting on a broken-down chair. . . . The bed shook again, more violently, and a voice called out:
"Who are you?"
"Friend of Captain Zaki. Open."
Zaki was no particular friend, so I peered cautiously through the widened crack and recognized Musa, one of the volunteers I had met at Zaki's Sylwan village headquarters. The Arab had learned of my stay from the talkative hotel clerk, and was showing off to the other Arabs that he knew the Amrikani personally. There was nothing to do but open the door and welcome him and a half dozen of his companions.
"Why aren't you with Zaki?" I asked.