* * *
Now I didn't know any of this in 1991. I was after all only 9 years old.
Later at home that evening, I went up to my dad with my sheet of four pigs and asked him if he could make 17 copies for me.
"What is this?" he asked.
Look it's so cool, I said, showing him how to fold it.
Surprise, a moment of silence. "Where'd you get this from?"
A kid at school, I told him.
"Where did he get it from?"
A question I never thought to ponder actually, and one I had no answer for.
"Why do you want 17 copies?"
Some of the other kids at school want their own copy too, I said.
A sigh and subtle shake of the head, "Okay."
A couple days later, I show up at school with my stack of four pigs to distribute among my classmates. They're all having the time of their lives folding and unfolding their sheets of paper, laughing, making jokes, and getting rowdy, until something miraculous happened: a song emerged. It practically translated the visual propaganda we held in our hands into words and went something along the lines of "hey Saddam, you four pigs, oink oink oink". Really basic, but it was catchy and had flow and the entire classroom was enraptured in singing it.
Now keep in mind, we had nothing against Saddam Hussein. Egypt was actively aiding the 1991 war on Iraq, but my friends and I just children and knew nothing about Saddam other than his name and what he looked like. Yet, an inconspicuous sheet of paper was enough to inspire a vehement musical assault on the man.
A little later in the day, something even stranger happened. More kids started coming to me, from other classrooms. "We saw your four pigs were told you have a photocopy machine."
Later that evening, I approached my dad and asked him to make me 30 more copies. I will never forget the look on his face.
"Why do you want 30 more copies, son?"
More kids want the four pigs, I told him.
"Well why are they coming to me for them? Why don't they get it photocopied anywhere close to school?"
Because I told them you have a photocopier at work that you don't have to pay money to use.
"Yes, I don't have to pay to use it, but it still costs money to supply it with paper and ink but they let me use it at work for work stuff without paying for it, because those are work costs, but they are nice enough to let me use it for the occasional homework thing for you, but we can't..."
Next day, I have to break the news to all the kids anticipating getting their very own copies of the pigs, and they don't understand why I was able to print for some kids and not them, and I try to explain to them but they're not convinced and neither am I because the logic is inconsistent and we're 9 years old and don't yet understand the concept of money.
So, they give me money. And not everyone has exact change, so I have to make a list of who paid me what, so I can give everyone back what they're owed, and word of the four pigs is spreading throughout the school and more kids are coming up to me to, well, basically put in a pre-order for their copy, and some even want more than one copy, and it becomes a whole logistical nightmare for 9-year old Ganzeer who never wanted to do any of this in the first place. All I wanted was to crack the code on how the four pigs thing worked.
But that evening, I go to my dad with a bunch of money to pay for the use of his workplace photocopier. His shoulders drop and his face falls to his hand.
Then he asks me how many copies I need and tells me to give all the kids their money back.
* * *
Years passed and I never thought back on my accidental role as propaganda pusher, not until 2003 when America would go to war with Iraq yet again, this time with the explicit intention to invade and enact regime change. I had long lost my sheet of four pigs, but there was an abundance of four pigs wherever I looked. No longer in flyer form, and perhaps not as smart or amusing, but they were certainly hard to miss. Just as they are hard to miss today.
Ganzeer
Cairo, Egypt
05.07.25
