Recent reports of Bashar Al-Assad's escape flight further amplify this profound resonance, underscoring the novel's timeless nature.
“The prophecy, which named him explicitly, had already been broadcast by local and international media, along with the announcement of his immediate transfer to the prison following the sentencing." (..) The Chief of Staff listened respectfully to Oedipus, but the king cut him off before he could speak: “I will not leave the plane,” it reads.
The juxtaposition of Oedipus with a modern aeroplane is both captivating and unsettling.
Mohamed Salmawy’s Oedipus occupies a psychological limbo, confined yet refusing disembarkation and escape. The scene echoes the dramatic arrival of Hosni Mubarak at Tora prison in July 2012. Sentenced to life, the ousted president wept and refused to leave his helicopter.
Salmawy skillfully weaves together the threads of Sophocles' Oedipus Rex, his own modern adaptation, and the historical reality of Mubarak — a reality he personally experienced as a witness to contemporary Egyptian history.
Through this interpretation, the author harmonizes diverse narratives, effectively exploring fate, guilt, and free will.
Salmawy's choice of the Oedipus reference effectively highlights Mubarak's succession issues.
The novel clearly parallels Oedipus Rex, even though Salmawy's Oedipus has no sons. Just as Oedipus Rex’s incestuous marriage to his mother Jocasta rendered his children unsuitable rulers, Mubarak's refusal to appoint a vice president and the widespread perception that he was grooming his son Gamal — deemed unfit by the public — mirrored a similar succession dilemma.
Salmawy's novel creates a striking adaptation: Greek characters, bearing their original names, navigate a 21st-century world of gadgets and aircraft while speaking Arabic.
He further enriches this world with characters embodying the Egyptian revolutionary spirit: Hypatia and Petro, a filmmaker documenting the Arab Spring's raw energy, mirroring real-life documentarians.
Even after his imprisonment, Hypatia continues filming a revolutionary wedding — a symbol of resilience. This fusion of antiquity and contemporary history places Oedipus squarely within the Egyptian revolution.
Oedipus: The illusion of choice
“It seemed like a courageous decision, but it was too late. By the time the news reached the people that Oedipus had decided to step down, the public’s anger had intensified, and their resolve had strengthened … However, those demands had escalated over time, and the people had moved from demanding ... reforming the country’s conditions to demanding Oedipus’s abdication,” the novel says.
In the original myth, the rulers of Thebes seek the oracle of Zeus to determine the cause of their city’s suffering.
The oracle reveals that Oedipus is the source of the curse, a truth he vehemently rejects.
Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex explores the tragic clash between fate and free will. In a world governed by inescapable divine prophecies, Oedipus' attempts to avert his destiny — bringing plague and misfortune upon Thebes — paradoxically lead him to fulfil it.
Inspired by this ancient narrative, the novel delves into the profound conflict between predetermined fate and the illusion of free will. This conflict ultimately serves the prophecy and prompts questions about free will.
His Egyptian Oedipus, driven by a desperate desire to defy fate and the people's demand to quell the unrest and save Thebes, ironically becomes the very instrument of its fulfilment, though seemingly brave and autonomous.
Mubarak's seemingly deliberate choice to step down after three decades, undertaken with a conviction of self-determination, is, in fact, the very mechanism by which the revolution is enacted.
Thus, his seemingly free choices are the very chains that bind him to his destiny, revealing his perceived choices as the instruments of fate.
The celestial throne
“You dare suggest that? Oedipus will not flee the country like some common criminal! I abdicated to save Thebes, and I even tolerated Creon's conspiracy — because I have nothing to hide. Now, he seeks to dispose of me by banishment.”
The Arab Spring's enduring legacy prompts consideration of the stark choices between exile and remaining.
The aeroplane, a symbol of journey and confinement, reflects the divergent paths chosen — trial or exile. Is it a vessel of destiny, an airborne prison, or a chance for freedom?
In January 2011, Ben Ali fled to Saudi Arabia, an offer Mubarak defiantly declined a couple of weeks later: “This is my country ... I will die on its soil.” This resonates in Salmawy's novel, where the aircraft, once a symbol of power, becomes Oedipus's stranded refuge, paralysing Thebes.
Unique among leaders affected by the Arab Spring, Mubarak possessed a profound bond with aircraft, forged during his early career as a pilot and solidified through his command of the Egyptian Air Force.
His orchestration of the 1973 surprise attack on Israeli forces not only secured his status as a national hero but also transformed the aircraft into an enduring symbol of his strength, a symbol meticulously cultivated through annual war commemorations.
Trapped by his legacy, Oedipus becomes a pariah, his confined space mirroring the entrapment and isolation that marked Mubarak's end.
Both denied their downfall, echoing Foucault's heterotopias: "other spaces" that are physical and mental counter-sites. The aeroplane's shift from a symbol of power to Oedipus's refuge exemplifies this.
Like the plane, spaces are repurposed in crises, becoming sites of resistance or denial, reflecting Oedipus's turmoil.
Salmawy's Oedipus on the Plane reimagines the Greek myth, building on the Egyptian tradition of Freudian "trans-adaptations" initiated by Al-Hakim (1949), Bakathir, and Salem.
His earlier works, including The Chain, Salome, and Butterfly Wings (2010), demonstrate his socio-political focus. Butterfly Wings is viewed as a prophetic glimpse of the Egyptian revolution that erupted the following year.
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