Power Pair
Basil & Farida’s Double Life


By Amy Mowafi

November 2008

Farida Khamis and Basil El-Baz are the definitive modern Arab power couple. They represent a generation that is ambitious and driven; dazzling in its possibilities and determined to make a difference. In this Enigma exclusive, Managing Editor Amy Mowafi discovers why this vivacious young pairing may just be Egypt’s biggest hope for the future.

Basil and Farida make their own coffee.  And they’ll make your coffee too. Remember that.  That’s important.  It’s far a more significant thing than Basil’s politically charged surname; one that conjures up grainy black and white images of Camp David circa 1978 and of heated negotiations with President Carter; a surname synonymous with that ground-breaking trip Sadat made to Israel in 1977, and one that will forever be associated with the on-going battle to recognise Palestinian rights. Basil is of course the savvy 33 year-old son of a certain Dr. Osama El-Baz, the former Director of Presidential Political Affairs, Egypt’s First Undersecretary of the Foreign Ministry and the current Political Advisor to President Mubarak. His father has stood steadfast in the daunting glare of the international political spotlight for nearly half a century, shaping Egypt’s political and economic landscape. But, credit where credit’s due; Basil hasn’t done too badly for himself either.  Like his father before him, he graduated from Harvard University where he studied economics and government with a focus on industrial economics. During his senior year of college - while his peers were all looking forward to cushy jobs in corporate America or cushier jobs in daddy’s business - Basil decided he wanted to build his own petrochemical facility in Egypt.  Eight years later, he’s the Founder and Chairman of Egypt Basic Industries Corporation (EBIC) and – yes - he’s built that anhydrous ammonia plant of his. Located some 40km south of the Suez Canal, the mammoth facility will soon be churning out over 2,000 tonnes of ammonia a day.  EBIC was also the first Egyptian company born solely of international finance; to the tune of over $400 million, and the first to receive a loan guarantee from the Export-Import Bank of United States.  This, in the world big business and high finance, is of course the stuff of which moguls are made. So the boy did good.

But then, so did the girl. Farida has also spent the last 29 years carrying around a pretty hefty surname.  Her father, Mohamed Farid Khamis, is the famed Chairman of Oriental Weavers; one of the largest industrial carpet and rug manufacturers globally with projects, factories and subsidiaries across the globe.  It’s an empire that includes property and real estate development, agro-industries and petrochemical facilities.  After graduating from the American University in Cairo with a major in business and a minor in psychology, she spent a few years working the ropes at various international financial institutions before deciding to join the family business. Except her Daddy made damn sure the deal wasn’t as cushy as people would assume. She started out, just like everybody else, at the bottom of the slippery ladder, and was told she’d have to work her way up (just like everybody else). But of course, Farida wasnot just like everybody else. She’d grown up with this business; it was pounding through her blood. She played in the factories as a child and tagged along when her father went globe-trotting to attend major exhibitions. She interned at the company as a teenager and had a front row seat to the business-driven conversations that inevitably took place at home.

The business formed the backdrop to her life, so naturally she didn’t need to remain below deck for long.  In less than two years she was wheeling and dealing on behalf of the company, spearheading a mammoth refinancing project that saw her raise around $400 million dollars in debt and restructure the management of the corporation along the lines of multinational conglomerates.  Today, as Vice President for Corporate Finance and a Member of the Board, she’s in charge of all the corporations new projects, tasked with scouring out investors, arranging financing, and supervising their tourism and real estate projects; including an expansive development at Marsa Alam on the Red Sea.  In the process she has unwittingly become the bright young public face of the company.  Of course, most organisations don’t have a smart, quick-on-her feet, terribly well connected beautiful brunette to doing their bidding for them, so Farida has inevitably had to deal with the Ivanka Trump syndrome.  You dismiss her at first – surely she’s too damn pretty to get the job done, just Daddy’s little girl - but once you’ve latched on to just how business savvy and intellectually impressive she is, you have little choice but to sit up and take serious notice.  Both Forbes Arabia and the Financial Times were quick to highlight her credentials as the youngest businesswoman in the Middle East, and when she appeared in a special Time magazine story in 2006 about the region’s industrial leaders (rather tritely titled Beyond the Bazaar), even those cynical American journalists were positively fawning.

So now we get to the good part, the part of the story that really blew everyone away: the moment when boy meets girl. Because when this particular boy met this particular girl, in the minds of most, it represented a couldn’t-have-scripted-it-better union of political power and big business.  And what do you get when that happens?  Well, er…not all that much actually.  And that’s the brilliant part. Because you should get luxury and lavishness, you expect it, there’s a part of you that’s eager to see a little wanton showiness; a big beautiful villa, a few crystal chandeliers maybe, at the very least a man in a bow tie open the door for you and serve you a cold drink…a little opulence damn it. It’s the least you can ask for. 

What I get however is Basil standing in the delightfully cute little corner kitchen of his funky ex-bachelor pad (where they’re both living) stooped over a mug and wondering how many sugars I’d like, in my coffee that is, which he’s making himself. You see, I told you to remember that part, because that’s the real crux of it; it’s what defines this couple, and not their aforementioned back-story.  When they married just under a year ago, Farida happily moved into his apartment.  There aren’t any kids yet, so what do they need a big villa for?   They do the chores themselves. They’re young, energetic, independent and out of the house most of the time, so what do they need a fleet of staff for?  The woman who comes in a couple of times a week to do a quick clean up will more than suffice, thank you very much. Farida and Basil simply don’t give a damn about the requisite accessories of fortune and fabulousness.  They’ve got their feet planted firmly to the ground. And it’s not on Italian marble.

So there we are sitting in their cosy little living room, CNN images flickering silently on the plasma-screen in the background, a pile of Basil’s paperwork on the swivelling glass coffee table, and in this context, it’s hard to believe these two are the ultimate young, modern Arab power couple. But that’s exactly what they are. They are - and forgive the triteness (hey if Time can get away with it) - the future. They inherently understand that with every great power couple, comes great responsibility. “A lot more is expected from us,” starts Basil. “And it’s something we’re very much up to. Our main desire as a couple is to do everything in our power to promote and develop economic growth in Egypt.”  But here’s what really ups the ante: in their hands the future doesn’t only look bright; it looks like a hell of a lot of fun.  Beyond the intense focus, Basil is a laugh a minute, natural raconteur with a sexy penchant for motorbike racing.  With him, it’s all banter and high-jinks and it’s a quality that had Farida gripped from the get-go.  When he first asked Farida out on a date he said, “I'm asking you out for two dinners; the second one in is so I get a second chance in case I screw- up the first one.”  When they set off on their honeymoon, Basil somehow had her convinced they were going on an expedition to the North Pole.  “So there I was with a suitcase full of furry hats, and gloves and big boots,” says Farida laughing.  They ended up jet-setting across the globe with pit stops in the Maldives, Tokyo, London, Boston, Miami (where they were joined by 30 of their international friends for one of hell of a New Year’s Eve celebration), London and Paris. “The whole time Basil would tell me we’re heading for one destination and then we’d end up somewhere else completely.  He had me going crazy for the entire month we were away!”

The “courtship”, a word Basil enjoys lavishing with plenty of irony, kicked off with a chance encounter at the social set’s favourite haunt ‘35’. For nearly a decade the pair had shared a similar circle of acquaintances and friends, briefly bumping into each other at various social and professional gatherings. And then on Wednesday night on August 31st 2005, fate finally intervened. Basil had been invited to a Saudi Arabian friend’s pre-wedding party at ‘35’ but declined.  It was the eve of his company’s subscription deadline, and following a whirlwind month of investor meetings, he was exhausted.  The last thing he needed was a party.  Just as he’s pulling up to his apartment he gets a call from one last investor requesting an immediate meeting over coffee at the First Mall. Of course, the First Mall shares the building with ‘35’ so as long as he’s in the vicinity he might as well pop in and say congratulations to his friends. “So I walk in and realise I know everyone in the restaurant,” says Basil. “And I’m thinking there’s no way my Saudi friend knows this many people in Egypt. I call over the waiter and ask him what's going on. Turns out that the pre-wedding party is only taking part of the top floor, the other two floors are reserved for …Farida’s birthday, which of course I hadn’t been invited to!”  So now Basil looks like he’s just gone and crashed Farida Khamis’ private party.  Quick on his feet and always ready with a pithy line he decides to tackle the social embarrassment head on.  He walks right up to her and says, “I just found out, I didn’t crash, I’m invited to the party on the other side and that’s where I’m going to be, but I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”  Later that night, they get chatting. “Out of politeness I said I’d give him a call,” says Farida, “and then he just grabbed my phone and punched in all of his contact details, I mean all of his numbers.” Then Basil gets another investor phone call and disappears into the night.  The following morning, Farida texts him with the line: “So you crash my party and then leave without saying goodbye?”  And that was the cue Basil needed to reel her right in. “Basil likes to make it seem that I was the one who chased him, but he’s had his eye on me for years,” she says chiding him. So we discover that nearly a decade ago, during a brief respite from school in the States, Basil had spotted Khamis at a gathering and decided she was the one for him. “But I never just go up to a woman I don’t know,” he says. When he found out however that a business acquaintance was attending a meeting at her father’s company, he arranged to go along in the hopes of seeing her. He didn’t, well not that day.

A decade later, on December 12th 2007, they're celebrating their love surrounded by over three thousand friends, family and VIPs from across the globe, at the biggest and most beautiful wedding Egypt has ever witnessed.  And that’s not hyperbole. They took over the famed Marriot palace hotel in Zamalek for the extravaganza; Enrique Iglesias flew in especially to sing for the couple; in one hall famed DJ David Guetta whipped the hip young guests into frenzy and in another the region’s political and business power players wined and dined to the sounds of a live orchestra.  It was the ultimate in glitter, glitz and glamour, and for one night only, they gave the public - already enthralled by this powerful union - exactly what they craved. “Getting married is a once in a life time event,” says Basil. “I wanted Farida to have the best wedding I could possibly arrange and I wasn’t planning on cutting any corners.”

And doesn’t a line like that just warm your heart?  The alpha male wants to give his woman all she desires. What makes the dynamic so much hotter is that Farida’s also got ‘alpha’ stamped all over her.  On the outside she may be soft-spoken sweetness, but this is a woman whose pillow talk involves the words “petrochemicals” and “loan agreements”.  And, unlike your standard issue powerful Arab man, that’s exactly what Basil loves about her. “Farida is incredibly intelligent,” he says, “That’s one of the first things that attracted me to her. My mother was a diplomat, a working woman at a time when that was extremely rare in the Arab world.  So obviously strength, success and intellect are things I automatically look for and respect in a woman.  It’s important to have a partner that is going to bring out the best in you, someone who is going to push you to succeed and push you to levels you didn’t think you were going to reach.  That is the case for both of us; we are both pushing each other.  And when you have a strong independent woman she’s not going to be calling you every two minutes!”  Farida could easily have grown into the type of woman who whiles away her days attending the opening of things that don’t need opening.  But she didn’t, and she (and Basil) has her parents to thank for that. “I watched my parents fighting for their goals. I saw my mother helping my father build his business in the early days,” says Farida. “We were never spoilt. We had to do things around the house; I had to look after my younger brother a lot of the time. We were never the type of family to have dozens of maids and butlers.”

It’s that ingrained sense of responsibility that’s undoubtedly behind Farida’s philanthropic drive.  There’s a sort of old-school Noblesse Oblige mentality about this power pair, and it’s one that immediately sets them apart from that new crop of millionaires too enthralled by their own purchasing power to look beyond their own beautiful backyard.  Basil and Farida are perpetually aware that this is Egypt , and Egypt is not club 35 and the Range Rover parked just outside; it's not Enrique Iglesias and a funky city-centre apartment with a quirky chandelier made of hand-written paper-notes.  Farida might be at the helm of one of the region’s largest corporations, she might be in possession of a Blackberry that never stops beeping, and she might not want for anything, but she still invests vast swathes of time giving back to the community.  Alongside her sister Yasmine (also a powerhouse VP at Oriental Weavers) she’s set up her own NGO – Khayrazad, which directly finances lifesaving medical equipment, payrolls lifesaving hospital staff, and covers the cost of lifesaving operations.  “When it comes to charity I don’t just want to pay for food, I want go down to the street and help distribute it” says Farida, and that’s undoubtedly the governing philosophy shaping the operation of her NGO.  She makes life easy for her rolodex of moneyed men.  They’re happy to write out the checks, and she’s happy to do the hard work.  They ensure their charity money will be used wisely; she ensures the future for thousands of sick and under-privileged children.

“I saw the tremendous amount of work my father did for his community, so we were raised to understand how important that is,” explains Farida who first learnt of her power to persuade people to reach deep into their pockets when she visited the Abu El-Rish hospital two years ago.  In desperate need of intensive care units, medical supplies and disposables, she started sending out messages to her network of contacts. And the money came flooding in, inspiring her decision to set up a charity institution to legalise the process.  Today, Khayrazad focuses on children’s healthcare, and the roll call of lives already saved is long.  At first they would receive an SMS pleading a medical case, and Farida would send a member of her team to investigate and corroborate the case. Today they have a vast network in place to source machinery at low cost, provide doctors for free and even medication pro bono.
 
Back at Abu El-Rish they’ve furnished the entire intensive care unit, are pay rolling 30 specialised nurses and 20 support staff, and are committed to supplying the medical disposables for two units, which - as Basil is at pains to explain on behalf of his modest wife – is a very big deal.  Last year, a cardiologist at Abu El-Rish appealed to Khayrazad’s members for supplies because they only had a few days worth of costly surgical string, and would not be receiving the necessary injection of governmental funds for another three months.  This would leave 100s of children unattended. Khayrazad stepped in to bridge the financial gap.

At yet another hospital, they’re paying for countless sight-saving eye operations, and at the Cancer Institute they’ve just purchased priceless machinery for the pathology unit. “We never give cash,” says Farida. “We want to make sure we’re providing something that can’t be misused.”  And of course Farida’s pitch-perfect PR skills have once again come to the fore.  When Khayrazad organises a fund-raising event - such as the celebrity-studded affair that famously took place at Andrea last Ramadan - corporations fall over themselves to help out non-gratis.  “Without a doubt, Farida’s charity work makes me very proud,” says Basil, “Truly proud.”

Basil and Farida, don’t have to be in Cairo. They are amongst the privileged few who are not chained to this seething developing metropolis.  They are more than entitled to the accoutrements of the Western world in all it’s easy sophistication; and if they so wanted, they would be welcomed with arms wide open.  They are after all fully paid-up members of the bountiful global business world.  And yet they choose to stay and fight the daily battles.  They choose to invest their power and prestige into the homeland, and are making a difference. When Basil El-Baz and Farida Khamis first announced their engagement, there were many who viewed the union with the suspicion this might just be some sort of political play on the part of their parents - big money plus big politics equals big opportunities.  It is after all a union that looks great on paper.  Well that may be, but what the cynics and naysayers failed to realise, is that this power pairing looks so much better in real life.