A Scale of Straw, Author - Abdel Latif Moubarak (Egyptian writer)

A Scale of Straw

​Short story by: Abdel Latif Moubarak 

Egyptian writer 

​Judge Adil Al-Rifai sat behind his luxurious ebony desk, adjusted the green sash across his robe, and looked into the mirror before him. In this city, Adil was not just a magistrate; he was "God’s shadow on Earth," or at least that is how he loved to perceive himself. Over a twenty-year career, Adil had learned that the laws in the books were not sacred texts, but rather clay, to be molded by a master’s hand however he pleased.

​In his winter office, the rich aroma of cardamom-infused coffee masked the scent of aging parchment. For Adil, justice was never the ultimate goal; stability and dominance were. He had learned early on that pleasing the powerful was the safest ladder to keeping that gavel raised high above his head, and that truth was merely a crime you could pin on anyone you chose.

​Resting on his desk was Case No. 104. It was a matter of intense public interest that had shaken the entire city: a devastating fire had consumed the "Al-Sharq Chemicals" factories, owned by the highly influential businessman Sabri Bey, leaving twelve workers dead.

​The preliminary reports from the fire investigators and civil defense were as clear as day: The cause was gross negligence regarding safety measures and the illegal storage of internationally banned materials to cut costs. The charges were criminal, threatening to devour Sabri Bey’s vast fortune and reputation. But Sabri Bey was no ordinary man; he knew exactly how to pull the strings, and he held the key to Judge Adil’s private chambers.

​The meeting did not take place at the courthouse, but rather at the judge’s private estate on the outskirts of the city. Under dim lighting, Sabri Bey sat puffing on a cigar, a black leather briefcase resting by his side.

​"Your Honor, a factory can be rebuilt, but if a reputation shatters, the entire conglomerate falls with it. Those workers died by fate and the will of God, so why destroy the living for the sake of the dead?" 

​Adil did not speak much. He pointed to the briefcase with his index finger, then spoke in a deep, resonant voice: "The file contains solid technical reports, Sabri Bey. Turning gross negligence into an act of arson requires a complete re-engineering of reality." The meeting concluded with a sinister smile and an agreement to warp the course of justice entirely.

​For the game to work flawlessly, a victim had to be thrown into the jaws of the guillotine. The choice fell upon Amin, a young maintenance engineer who had been hired a mere six months prior. Amin was a righteous young man; he had repeatedly complained about the lack of safety measures, and his written complaints were supposed to be his shield... but he did not know they would become the very noose tightening around his neck.

​Amin was arrested on charges of "intentional sabotage, arson motivated by revenge, and deliberately severing the main power grid." The young man suddenly found himself in a courtroom cage, surrounded by flashing cameras and the angry jeers of the victims' families, whose grief-fueled rage had been expertly steered toward this "traitor."

​Locked away in his private chambers, Adil began the real work. Armed with absolute authority, he summoned the fire expert who had authored the initial report. He threatened to unearth old disciplinary files against the expert unless he altered his findings. Terrified, the expert complied.

​By a stroke of magic, the report transformed from: "A short circuit caused by a deteriorated grid and management negligence" into: "A highly flammable petroleum substance intentionally poured into the main control panel." Adil then ordered the removal of Amin’s written complaints from the case file, replacing them with a forged report stating that Amin had been disciplined two days before the incident for "aggressive and hostile behavior."

​The trial commenced. Adil orchestrated the hearings like an avant-garde theater director. Whenever the defense attorney attempted to prove Amin’s innocence or requested to summon the surviving workers as eyewitnesses, the judge would firmly dismiss the requests, stating: "The Court has already formed its conviction, and these requests are irrelevant to the ruling."

​Conversely, when the prosecution’s witnesses spoke (whose consciences had been bought by Sabri Bey’s wealth), Adil listened with immense focus, took notes by hand, and barred the defense from cross-examining them aggressively, reprimanding the lawyer for "obstructing the course of justice."

​During the closing session, the final word was given to the accused. Amin stood in the iron cage, pale-faced with sunken eyes. He stared directly into Judge Adil’s eyes and spoke with a voice trembling with oppression and rage:

​"Your Honor, you know, I know, and everyone here knows that I am innocent. The papers in your hands are forged, and the blood of those workers hangs around the neck of the factory owner. If I cannot find justice