In a satirical and curious debate, major judicial figures in the country are currently sparring over Law No. 17 of 2007, which barred judges from appointing their children to the judiciary and raised the minimum academic requirement for law graduates to qualify for these positions to a ‘Good’ grade.

Justice Ahmed Al-Zend, head of the Judges Club, vehemently criticized this law, calling for its repeal, saying, ‘We are disciplined people, and no one should dare question our rights because they can never reach our stature, even on Judgment Day. I demand this wrong be corrected, as the January Revolution also demanded justice. The revolution rose to eliminate injustices, and we are working to do the same. This law was an act of vengeance by the former regime against the Judges Club, which opposed hereditary appointments.’

He further stressed that his demands were not an affront to the fairness of appointments, which should not discriminate between the child of a minister or a labourer. He launched an attack on civil society organizations concerned with judicial independence, accusing them of lacking the necessary qualifications ‘because they are not judges.’ He also alleged that these organizations were pushing foreign agendas, echoing one of the most common political accusations in Egypt today.

On the other hand, Justice Ahmed Mekki, Vice President of the Court of Cassation and a member of the Supreme Judicial Council, expressed his view on the appointment of new public prosecutors, stating that the best candidates should be chosen for the job, regardless of their families or connections. ‘God bless you for that!’

However, he also clarified that he supports measures to ensure the welfare of judges’ children, although this does not necessarily mean appointing them to judicial positions if they are not qualified. Still, he argued that since the state monopolizes judges’ time and restricts their relationships with prominent figures in society to ensure impartiality, it should provide employment opportunities for judges’ children. Judges cannot secure jobs for their children as traders, artisans, or bank managers might for theirs. He added, ‘I support any measure that cares for judges’ children and am not against it. It’s unreasonable to ask a judge to place their child in a bank while not allowing them to have a relationship with the bank manager.’

Looking at this debate, between judges on one side and between judges and organizations monitoring judicial independence on the other, we observe a strange form of absurd comedy. We might refrain from delving into the details of this media-driven battle and instead view the ‘dilemma’ from a completely different perspective: the sidewalk, from the bottom looking up.

Let us imagine a tomato vendor who, by the grace of God, managed to educate his son until he graduated from university—not necessarily from a law school but any college. This son is not necessarily seeking a ‘sensitive’ government position but any job that matches his qualifications and aligns with the logic of competence, as our instincts would suggest. Naturally, this graduate can read and write. He can also follow the news in the papers, as he, too, is a member of society who cares about what happens around him.

The son buys a newspaper and follows the debate from the sidewalk’s perspective, bitterly wondering, ‘Why did my father strive so hard and insist on educating me? Why didn’t he simply pass down his spot in the vegetable market to me?’

The son immediately heads to the market to join his father, holding his university degree and the same newspaper in hand. He claims a spot beside his father on the sidewalk, spreading out those worthless papers and building a pyramid of fresh tomatoes on top in the name of loving Egypt, shouting at the top of his lungs: ‘Fresh tomatoes, bright red!’

This article is originally published by AlBorsa in Arabic and later AI-translated by South Push.