ANIMATED SOCIAL commenTARY and witty political banter are ongoing themes among an unusually intellectual crowd that gathers every weekday morning at the Heliopolis Sporting Club. Small clusters of the Club’s most distinguished elderly members (mostly men) can be found seated along the perimeter of the croquet field sipping coffee, guzzling lemon juice, reading newspapers, exchanging political opinions or just quietly sunning themselves (very few of them actually play croquet). Many members of this elite ‘Croquet’ set have been coming to the Heliopolis Club ever since they were children. They have witnessed many disconcerting changes over the years in both their beloved Club and country. But the Croquet is their safe haven. It’s one of the few places where the rules haven’t changed. They can interact with one another in pretty much the same way they always have. For a few hours each morning they are no longer the out of touch retirees but the “in crowd” reliving their youth in all its elegance and class. There is nothing that these jovial men with their youthful spirits love more than reminiscing about the past.

“You will find most of our older members sitting right here,” says Akram Sayyed-Ahmad, a retired engineer who has been a Heliopolis Club member for over 50 years. “We come here every day except Fridays. The weekends are much too crowded.”

“We usually arrive around 10 or 11 in the morning and stay until at least lunchtime,” says Dr. Youssef Tawfik Omar. “It’s a nice place to gather because we all know each other. We have our regular tables, which change according to the season of the year. In winter we like the sun and in summer we try to avoid it. The waiters know us, they know what we like and when we like it,” says Omar pointing to a trademark carafe of ice water at his table. “That always has to remain filled.”

“The faces have changed, not within our crowd here, but in the Club as a whole,” says Sayyed-Ahmad sadly. “Now people like us are the minority. There are people with money who have joined in recent years who let’s just say they don’t share the same values. The Heliopolis Club used to have among its members some of Egypt’s most illustrious personalities like Mohammed Naguib, Egypt’s first president. All the Pasha’s and prominent politicians used to gather here. I remember as youth we used to sit with them. I learned a lot from these great men as I was growing up,” he adds.

Founded in 1910, by the Cairo Electric Railways and Heliopolis Oases Company, the Club members predominantly British took over management in 1922. At the time, the Club’s huge area stretched from its present day location all the way to Heliopolis’ 4th district, which is now known as Ard El Golf. “What many people don’t realize is that the Ard El-Golf area now full of buildings used to actually be an 18-hole golf course at one point,” says General Hossam Younes, whose father, a Pasha with the pre-revolution Ministry of Interior, was one of the first Egyptian members admitted to the Heliopolis Club.

“We used to have the 18-feddan Club that is here today in addition to an equestrian club next door and a golf club. All were part of the Heliopolis Sporting Club Complex,” explains Younes. By 1947 however the Club’s area was reduced to its present size. The Heliopolis Company took back the golf course and divided it up into plots that were sold as residential real estate.

The Croquet field, shielded from modern marketing, retains the club’s traditional charm.

All of the Heliopolis Club’s chairmen were British until 1949, when Naguib Pasha Iskander was appointed the first Egyptian President. “There were very few Egyptian members before the 1952 revolution,” says Harun El Tuni, who has served as the Club’s vice chairman for the past 12 years.

“Only five Egyptians were initially admitted to the Club. These were the Pashas of Egypt, members of the Royal Family,” says Younes. “In fact, King Farouk himself used to come to Heliopolis quite frequently. We used to see him driving his Buick two-seater convertible without a chauffeur. His favorite place to go was a café called Montreaux, which was located on the present day site of the Military Academy on Oruba Street. He would then go to the Club, meet his friends, sit in the bar or play cards. I don’t want to use a cliché and say those were the good old days but they really were. The King did all this without bodyguards, or security forces blocking off the roads and shutting people out. There was no need for all that,” says Younes.

Gradually more and more prominent Egyptians were admitted in turn as Club members. Examples of these were: former Head of the Wafd party Fouad Serag El Din, renowned Coptic politician Makram Pasha Ebeid who was also former Secretary General of the Wafd Party, Mustafa Nahas Pasha the head of government during the rein of King Farouk and Hassan Pasha Seif El Nasr. “Rules were rules back then and everyone respected them. I remember the Baron Empain himself hired a very strict club supervisor named Henry. He knew all the members by name. Every evening at sunset he would walk through the Club with a bell. When that bell rang it meant that it was time for the children to go home. There were no children allowed in the Club after sunset. If anyone dared to break that rule Henry would suspend them from the Club for a week,” says Younes. Today small children routinely roam the Club until the wee hours of the morning.

“The adults would gather either in the bar which used to be located in the main club house or poolside. We used to have lots of parties particularly in the summer time when we could utilize the pool deck and the roof,” says Medhat Abdel Fattah, a retired judge. “We were definitely much more socially active than the Club’s youth is today. We were, more or less, all one group while today there are people in the Club that come from a variety of backgrounds. They lack the social cohesiveness that we had,” he adds.

By 1952, the Heliopolis Club had approximately 2,000 Egyptian members. “After the revolution things began changing,” says Younes. “In the years leading up to the revolution the Club’s membership (initiation) fee was LE 10 (now it is LE 75,000) which was not an insignificant amount of money at the time. After 1952, military officers were allowed to join the Club without paying the initiation fee and that’s where the trouble started,” laughs Younes.

In 1960, military officers were required to pay the LE 10 fee, by that time a normal membership cost around LE 100. Until the 1960s, the Club’s regulations limited memberships to a total of 4,000 members, which was considered to be its maximum carrying capacity. Today the Club has 50,000 members.

“I think that bit of information just says it all,” says Sayyed-Ahmad. “Once you start bending the rules things have to deteriorate not only in the Club but in Heliopolis as a suburb,” he adds.

“But relatively speaking, Heliopolis and the Club have actually fared much better than many other areas thanks to the care and attention that was given to it by the First Lady. I think that if it weren’t for her efforts Heliopolis would have turned into Shubra El-Kheima,” says Younes.

Many of the Club’s older members would like to see more social and sporting events like the ones that used to take place in the past. “During the Club elections, earlier this year, I told those running for the board that they should hold annual sporting events where Club members could compete against one another in various age categories. Even the seniors like us could participate but I think it fell on deaf ears,” says Sayyed-Ahmad. “We have become a Club full of deadbeats.”

Traditionally known for its excellence in water sports particularly water polo and synchronized swimming, the Heliopolis Club has also had its fair share of national tennis and squash champions.

“It’s true that we need to shift the focus back on sports. The problem is not with the older members but with the youth who seem to have forgotten the importance of playing sports,” says Younes. We (my friends and I) haven’t slowed down. Every morning at 5:00 am we walk the track and perform our morning calisthenics. Sometimes we even swim laps in the pool. That’s why we don’t look our age,” laughs Younes who is in his late 70’s but does indeed look at least 10 years younger.

As the late morning turns into the early afternoon (time passes by quickly at the Croquet) a steady parade of men come and go as waiters serve up one Turkish coffee after another and collect empty glasses of lemonade and a surprisingly refreshing lemon yogurt drink that is a Club specialty.

The more you sit among the members of a generation where grace and manners were a given, the more you start to appreciate the charm of the Croquet which stands in stark contrast to the other faster paced areas of the Club emblazoned with Nike and McDonalds logos where times have indeed changed. et