In the summer of 1886, when all the troops had retreated to Wady Halfa
and all the Soudan garrisons had been massacred, the British people
averted their eyes in shame and vexation from the valley of the Nile. A
long succession of disasters had reached their disgraceful culmination.
The dramatic features added much to the bitterness and nothing to the
grandeur of the tragedy. The cost was heavy. Besides the pain produced
by the death of General Gordon, the heavy losses in officers and men,
and the serious expenditure of public money, the nation smarted under
failure and disappointment, and were, moreover, deeply sensible that
they had been humiliated before the whole world. The situation in
Egypt was scarcely more pleasing. The reforms initiated by the
British Administrators had as yet only caused unpopularity. Baring's
interference galled the Khedive and his Ministers. Vincent's parsimony
excited contempt. Moncrieff's energy had convulsed the Irrigation
Department. Wood's army was the laughing-stock of Europe. Among and
beneath the rotten weeds and garbage of old systems and abuses the new
seed was being sown. But England saw no signs of the crop; saw only
the stubborn husbandmen begrimed with the dust and dirt, and herself
hopelessly involved in the Egyptian muddle: and so in utter weariness
and disgust, stopping her ears to the gibes and cat-calls of the Powers,
she turned towards other lands and other matters.
When the attention of the nation was again directed to Egypt the scene
was transformed. It was as though at the touch of an angel the dark
morasses of the Slough of Despond had been changed to the breezy slopes
of the Delectable Mountains. The Khedive and his Ministers lay quiet and
docile in the firm grasp of the Consul-General. The bankrupt State was
spending surpluses upon internal improvement. The disturbed Irrigation
Department was vivifying the land. The derided army held the frontier
against all comers. Astonishment gave place to satisfaction, and
satisfaction grew into delight. The haunting nightmare of Egyptian
politics ended. Another dream began--a bright if vague vision of
Imperial power, of trans-continental railways, of African Viceroys, of
conquest and commerce. The interest of the British people in the work of
regeneration grew continually. Each new reform was hailed with applause.
Each annual Budget was scrutinised with pride. England exulted in the
triumph of failure turned into success. There was a general wish to know
more about Egypt and the men who had done these great things. In 1893
this desire was satisfied, and yet stimulated by the publication of Sir
Alfred Milner's 'England in Egypt.' His skilful pen displayed what had
been overcome, no less than what was accomplished. By explaining the
difficulties he enhanced the achievement. He showed how, while Great
Britain was occupied elsewhere, her brilliant, persevering sons had
repeated on a lesser scale in Egypt the marvellous evolution which
is working out in India. Smaller systems circulate more rapidly. The
administrators were guided by experience. The movement had been far
swifter, and the results were more surprising. Such was the wonderful
story, and it was told in a happy moment. The audience were eager and
sympathetic. The subject was enthralling. The story-teller had a wit
and a style that might have brightened the dullest theme. In these
propitious circumstances the book was more than a book. The words rang
like the trumpet-call which rallies the soldiers after the parapets are
stormed, and summons them to complete the victory.
The regeneration of Egypt is not a theme which would fall within the
limits of this account, even if it had not been fully dealt with by Sir
Alfred Milner. But the reorganisation of the Egyptian army, the forging
of the weapon of reconquest, is an essential feature. On the 20th of
December, 1882, the old Egyptian army--or, rather, such parts as had
escaped destruction--was disbanded by a single sentence of a British
decree, and it was evident that some military body must replace that
which had been swept away. All sorts of schemes for the employment of
foreign legions or Turkish janissaries were devised. But Lord Dufferin
adhered firmly to the principle of entrusting the defence of a country
to its inhabitants, and it was determined to form a new Egyptian army.
The poverty of the government, no less than the apparent folly of the
experiment, demanded that the new army should be small. The force was
intended only for the preservation of internal order and the defence of
the southern and western frontiers of Egypt against the Bedouin Arabs.
The Soudan still slumbered out its long nightmare. Six thousand men was
the number originally drawn by conscription--for there are no volunteers
in Egypt--from a population of more than 6,000,000. Twenty-six British
officers--either poor men attracted by the high rates of pay, or
ambitious allured by the increased authority--and a score of excellent
drill-sergeants undertook the duty of teaching the recruits to fight.
Sir Evelyn Wood directed the enterprise, and became the first British
Sirdar of the Egyptian army. The work began and immediately prospered.
Within three months of its formation the army had its first review. The
whole 6,000 paraded in their battalions and marched past the Khedive
and their country's flag. Their bearing and their drill extorted the
half-contemptuous praise of the indifferent spectators. Experienced
soldiers noticed other points. Indeed, the new army differed greatly
from the old. In the first place, it was paid. The recruits were treated
with justice. Their rations were not stolen by the officers. The men
were given leave to go to their villages from time to time. When they
fell sick, they were sent to hospital instead of being flogged. In
short, the European system was substituted for the Oriental.
It was hardly possible that the fertile soil and enervating climate
of the Delta would have evolved a warrior race. Ages of oppression and
poverty rarely produce proud and warlike spirits. Patriotism does not
grow under the 'Kourbash.' The fellah soldier lacks the desire to kill.
Even the Mohammedan religion has failed to excite his ferocity. He may
be cruel. He is never fierce. Yet he is not without courage--a courage
which bears pain and hardship in patience, which confronts ill-fortune
with indifference, and which looks on death with apathetic composure.
It is the courage of down-trodden peoples, and one which stronger breeds
may often envy, though they can scarcely be expected to admire. He has
other military virtues. He is obedient, honest, sober, well-behaved,
quick to learn, and, above all, physically strong. Generations of
toiling ancestors, though they could not brace his nerves, have braced
his muscles. Under the pressure of local circumstances there has
been developed a creature who can work with little food, with little
incentive, very hard for long hours under a merciless sun. Throughout
the river campaigns, if the intellect of the army, if the spirit of the
troops, have come from without, Egypt herself has provided the sinews of
war.
Such was the material out of which the British officers have formed the
new Egyptian army. At first, indeed, their task was embittered by the
ridicule of their comrades in the British and Indian Services; but as
the drill and bearing of the force improved, the thoughtless scorn would
have been diverted from the Englishmen to fall only upon the Egyptian
soldiers. But this was not allowed. The British officers identified
themselves with their men. Those who abused the fellah soldier were
reminded that they insulted English gentlemen. Thus a strange bond of
union was established between the officers and soldiers of the Egyptian
Service; and although material forces may have accomplished much,
without this moral factor the extraordinary results would never have
been achieved.
It was not long before the new military organisation was exposed to the
stern test of war. The army that was raised to preserve internal order
was soon called upon to guard the frontier. The revolt in the
Soudan, which in its earlier stages seemed the least of the Egyptian
difficulties, speedily dwarfed all the rest. The value of the new force
was soon recognised. In June 1883 we find General Hicks, then preparing
for his fatal march, writing to Sir Evelyn Wood: 'Send me four
battalions of your new army, and I shall be content.' But fortune
protected the infant organisation from such a disastrous beginning. The
'new army' remained for a space in Cairo; and although during the Nile
expedition of 1884-85 the Egyptians were employed guarding the lines of
communication, it was not until the British troops had been withdrawn
from Dongola that they received at Ginniss their baptism of fire.
Henceforth their place was on the frontier, and from 1886 onward the
Egyptian troops proved equal to the task of resisting the northward
pressure of the Dervishes.
The numbers of the army grew with its responsibilities. Up to the end of
1883 the infantry still consisted of eight fellahin battalions. In 1884
the first Soudanese battalion was raised. The black soldier was of a
very different type from the fellahin. The Egyptian was strong, patient,
healthy, and docile. The negro was in all these respects his inferior.
His delicate lungs, slim legs, and loosely knit figure contrasted
unfavourably with the massive frame and iron constitution of the peasant
of the Delta. Always excitable and often insubordinate, he required the
strictest discipline. At once slovenly and uxorious, he detested his
drills and loved his wives with equal earnestness; and altogether
'Sambo'--for such is the Soudanese equivalent of 'Tommy'--was a lazy,
fierce, disreputable child. But he possessed two tremendous military
virtues. To the faithful loyalty of a dog he added the heart of a
lion. He loved his officer, and feared nothing in the world. With the
introduction of this element the Egyptian army became a formidable
military machine. Chance or design has placed the blacks ever in the
forefront of the battle, and in Lord Kitchener's campaigns on the Nile
the losses in the six Soudanese battalions have exceeded the aggregate
of the whole of the rest of the army.
It was well that the Egyptian troops were strengthened by these valiant
auxiliaries, for years of weary war lay before them. Sir Reginald
Wingate, in his exhaustive account of the struggle of Egypt with the
Mahdist power, [MAHDISM AND THE EGYPTIAN SOUDAN, Sir Reginald Wingate]
has described the successive actions which accompanied the defence of
the Wady Halfa frontier and of Suakin.
The ten years that elapsed between Ginniss and the first movements of
the expedition of re-conquest were the dreary years of the Egyptian
army. The service was hard and continual. Though the operations were
petty, an untiring vigilance was imperative. The public eye was averted.
A pitiless economy was everywhere enforced. The British officer was
deprived of his leave and the Egyptian private of his rations, that a
few pounds might be saved to the Egyptian Treasury. The clothing of the
battalions wore thin and threadbare, and sometimes their boots were so
bad that the soldiers' feet bled from the cutting edges of the rocks,
and the convoy escorts left their trails behind them. But preparation
was ever going forward. The army improved in efficiency, and the
constant warfare began to produce, even among the fellahin infantry,
experienced soldiers. The officers, sweltering at weary Wady Halfa and
Suakin, looked at the gathering resources of Egypt and out into the
deserts of the declining Dervish Empire and knew that some day their
turn would come. The sword of re-conquest which Evelyn Wood had forged,
and Grenfell had tested, was gradually sharpened; and when the process
was almost complete, the man who was to wield it presented himself.
Horatio Herbert Kitchener, the eldest son of a lieutenant-colonel, was
born in 1850, and, after being privately educated, entered in 1869 the
Royal Military Academy at Woolwich as a cadet of the Royal Engineers.
In the spring of 1871 he obtained his commission, and for the first ten
years of his military service remained an obscure officer, performing
his duties with regularity, but giving no promise of the talents and
character which he was afterwards to display. One powerful weapon,
however, he acquired in this time of waiting. In 1874 accident or
instinct led him to seek employment in the surveys that were being made
of Cyprus and Palestine, and in the latter country he learned Arabic.
For six years the advantage of knowing a language with which few British
officers were familiar brought him no profit. For procuring military
preferment Arabic was in 1874 as valueless as Patagonian. All this
was swiftly changed by the unexpected course of events. The year 1882
brought the British fleet to Alexandria, and the connection between
England and Egypt began to be apparent. Kitchener did not neglect his
opportunity. Securing leave of absence, he hurried to the scene of
crisis. Alexandria was bombarded. Detachments from the fleet were landed
to restore order. The British Government decided to send an army to
Egypt. British officers and soldiers were badly wanted at the seat of
war; an officer who could speak Arabic was indispensable.
Thus Kitchener came to Egypt and set his feet firmly on the high road to
fortune. He came to Egypt when she was plunged in misery and shame, when
hopeless ruin seemed already the only outcome of the public disasters,
and when even greater misfortunes impended. He remained to see her
prosperous and powerful; to restore empire to her people, peace to her
empire, honour to her army; and among those clear-minded men of action
by whom the marvellous work of regeneration has been accomplished,
Herbert Kitchener will certainly occupy the second place. Lord Wolseley
on his arrival soon found employment for the active officer who could
speak Arabic. He served through the campaign of 1882 as a major. He
joined the new army which was formed at the conclusion of the war, as
one of the original twenty-six officers. In the Nile expedition of
1885 Arabic again led him to the front, and in the service of the
Intelligence Department he found ample opportunity for his daring and
energy. His efforts to communicate with Gordon in Khartoum did not,
however, meet with much success, and the Journals bristle with so many
sarcastic comments that their editor has been at pains to explain in his
preface that there was really no cause for complaint. Major Kitchener,
however, gave satisfaction to his superiors in Cairo, if not to the
exacting General at Khartoum, and in 1886 he was appointed Governor
of Suakin. This post, always one of responsibility and danger, did not
satisfy Kitchener, whose ambition was now taking definite form. Eager
for more responsibility and more danger, he harried and raided the
surrounding tribes; he restricted and almost destroyed the slender trade
which was again springing up, and in consequence of his measures the
neighbourhood of Suakin was soon in even greater ferment than usual.
This culminated at the end of 1887 in the re-appearance and advance of
Osman Digna. The movements of the Dervishes were, however, uncertain.
The defences of the town had been greatly strengthened and improved
by the skill and activity of its new Governor. [See dispatch from
Major-General Dormer to War Office, Cairo, April 22, 1888: 'With regard
to the military works and defenses of the town, I was much struck with
the great improvement that has been effected by Colonel Kitchener since
my last visit to Suakin in the autumn of 1884.] Osman Digna retreated.
The 'friendlies' were incited to follow, and Kitchener, although he had
been instructed not to employ British officers or Egyptian regulars in
offensive operations, went out in support. At Handub on the morning of
the 17th of January, 1888, the friendlies attacked the camp of Osman
Digna. They were at first successful; but while they dispersed to
plunder the enemy rallied and, returning, drove them back with loss.
Kitchener arrived on the field with the support, to find a defeat
instead of a victory awaiting him. He bravely endeavoured to cover the
retreat of the friendlies, and in so doing was severely--as it first
seemed dangerously--wounded in the jaw. The loss among the friendlies
and the support amounted to twenty men killed and two British officers
and twenty-eight men wounded. The Governor returned in great pain and
some discomfiture to Suakin. In spite of his wound and his reverse he
was impatient to renew the conflict, but this was definitely forbidden
by the British Government. Colonel Kitchener's military conduct was
praised, but his policy was prevented. 'The policy which it is desirable
to follow ... in the Eastern Soudan,' wrote Sir Evelyn Baring on the
17th of March, in measured rebuke, 'should consist in standing purely
on the defensive against any hostile movement or combination of the
Arab tribes, in avoiding any course of action which might involve the
ultimate necessity of offensive action, and in encouraging legitimate
trade by every means in our power.' [Sir E. Baring to Consul Cameron,
March 14, 1888.]
The Governor could scarcely be expected to carry out a policy so much at
variance with his views and inclinations, and in the summer of 1888
he was transferred to a purely military appointment and became
Adjutant-General of the Egyptian army. For the next four years he worked
busily in the War Office at Cairo, effecting many useful reforms and
hard economies, and revealing powers of organisation which, although not
yet appreciated by his comrades in the Egyptian service, were noticed by
one vigilant eye. In 1892 Sir F. Grenfell resigned the post of Sirdar,
and the chief command of the Egyptian army was vacant. Two men stood out
prominently as candidates--Colonel Wodehouse, who held the command of
the Halfa Field Force, and the Adjutant-General. Colonel Wodehouse had
undoubtedly the greater claims. He had been for several years in command
of a large force in continual contact with the enemy. He had won the
action of Argin, and was known throughout the Soudan as 'the conqueror
of Wad-el-Nejumi.' He had conducted the civil administration of the
frontier province with conspicuous success, and he was popular with all
ranks of the Egyptian army. Kitchener had little to set against this. He
had shown himself a brave and active soldier. He was known to be a good
official. But he had not been in accord with the Government in his civil
administration, and was, moreover, little known to his brother officers.
Sir Evelyn Baring's influence, however, turned the scale. Somewhat,
therefore, to the astonishment of the Egyptian army, Kitchener was
promoted Sirdar. Lord Cromer had found the military officer whom he
considered capable of re-conquering the Soudan when the opportunity
should come.
The years of preparation, wasted by no one in Egypt, were employed by
no department better than by the Intelligence Branch. The greatest
disadvantage from which Lord Wolseley had suffered was the general
ignorance of the Soudan and its peoples. The British soldiers had had
to learn the details of Dervish fighting by bitter experience. But
the experience, once gained, was carefully preserved. The Intelligence
Branch of the Egyptian army rose under the direction of Colonel (now
Sir Reginald) Wingate to an extraordinary efficiency. For ten years
the history, climate, geography, and inhabitants of the Soudan were the
objects of a ceaseless scrutiny. The sharp line between civilisation
and savagery was drawn at Wady Halfa; but beyond that line, up the great
river, within the great wall of Omdurman, into the arsenal, into the
treasury, into the mosque, into the Khalifa's house itself, the spies
and secret agents of the Government--disguised as traders, as warriors,
or as women--worked their stealthy way. Sometimes the road by the Nile
was blocked, and the messengers must toil across the deserts to Darfur,
and so by a tremendous journey creep into Omdurman. At others a trader
might work his way from Suakin or from the Italian settlements. But by
whatever route it came, information--whispered at Halfa, catalogued
at Cairo--steadily accumulated, and the diaries of the Intelligence
Department grew in weight and number, until at last every important Emir
was watched and located, every garrison estimated, and even the endless
intrigues and brawls in Omdurman were carefully recorded.
The reports of the spies were at length confirmed and amplified by two
most important witnesses. At the end of 1891 Father Ohrwalder made his
escape from Omdurman and reached the Egyptian territory. Besides giving
the Intelligence Department much valuable information, he published
a thrilling account of his captivity [TEN YEARS' CAPTIVITY, Father
Ohrwalder], which created a wide and profound impression in England. In
1895 a still more welcome fugitive reached Assuan. Early on the 16th of
March a weary, travel-stained Arab, in a tattered jibba and mounted on
a lame and emaciated camel, presented himself to the Commandant. He
was received with delighted wonder, and forthwith conducted to the best
bath-room available. Two hours later a little Austrian gentleman stepped
forth, and the telegraph hastened to tell the news that Slatin, sometime
Governor of Darfur, had escaped from the Khalifa's clutches. Here
at last was a man who knew everything that concerned the Dervish
Empire--Slatin, the Khalifa's trusted and confidential servant, almost
his friend, who had lived with him, who was even permitted to dine with
him alone, who had heard all his counsels, who knew all his Emirs, and
moreover Slatin, the soldier and administrator, who could appreciate
all he had learned, was added with the rank of Pasha to the Staff of
the Intelligence Department. While his accurate knowledge confirmed the
belief of the Egyptian authorities that the Dervish power was declining,
his tale of 'Fire and Sword in the Soudan' increased the horror and
anger of thoughtful people in England at the cruelties of the Khalifa.
Public opinion began to veer towards the policy of re-conquest.
The year 1895 brought in a Conservative and Unionist Administration. A
Government came into office supported by a majority which was so strong
that there seemed little reason to expect a transference of power
for five or six years. Ministers were likely to be able to carry to
a definite conclusion any projects they might devise. They belonged
chiefly to that party in the State which had consistently assailed Mr.
Gladstone's Egyptian policy. Here was an opportunity of repairing the
damage done by their opponents. The comparisons that would follow such
an accomplishment were self-evident and agreeable even to anticipate.
The idea of re-conquering the Soudan presented itself indefinitely,
but not unpleasingly, alike to the Government and the people of Great
Britain. The unforeseen course of events crystallised the idea into a
policy.
On the 1st of March, 1896, the battle of Adowa was fought, and Italy at
the hands of Abyssinia sustained a crushing defeat. Two results followed
which affected other nations. First, a great blow had been struck
at European prestige in North Africa. It seemed probable that the
Abyssinian success would encourage the Dervishes to attack the Italians
at Kassala. It was possible that they might also attack the Egyptians at
Suakin or on the Wady Halfa frontier. Secondly, the value of Italy as
a factor in European politics was depreciated. The fact that her defeat
had been assisted by the arms and munitions of war which had been
supplied to the Abyssinians from French and Russian sources complicated
the situation. The Triple Alliance was concerned. The third partner had
been weakened. The balance might be restored if Great Britain would make
some open sign of sympathy.
Moreover, the expectations of the Egyptian military authorities were
soon fulfilled. The Dervishes threatened Kassala as soon as the news of
Adowa reached them, and indeed there were signs of increased activity
in Omdurman itself. In these circumstances the British Government
determined to assist Italy by making a demonstration on the Wady Halfa
frontier. They turned to Egypt. It had always been recognised that the
recovery of the lost provinces was a natural and legitimate aspiration.
'The doubtful point was to decide the time when the military and
financial resources of the country were sufficiently developed to
justify an assumption of the offensive.' [LORD CROMER'S REPORTS: EGYPT,
No. 2, 1896.] From a purely Egyptian point of view the best possible
moment had not yet arrived. A few more years of recuperation were
needed. The country would fight the Soudan campaigns more easily if
first refreshed by the great reservoirs which were projected. For more
than two years both projects had been pressed upon the Government of
his Highness the Khedive--or, to write definitely, upon Lord Cromer. At
regular intervals Sir Herbert Kitchener and Sir William Garstin would
successively visit the British Agency (it would be treason to call it
'Government House')--the one to urge the case for a war, the other to
plead for a reservoir. The reservoir had won. Only a few weeks before
the advance to Dongola was ordered Garstin met Kitchener returning from
the Agency. The engineer inquired the result of the General's interview.
'I'm beaten,' said Kitchener abruptly; 'you've got your dam'--and
Garstin went on his way rejoicing.
The decision of the British Government came therefore as a complete
surprise to the Cairene authorities. The season of the year was
unfavourable to military operations. The hot weather was at hand. The
Nile was low. Lord Cromer's report, which had been published in the
early days of March, had in no way foreshadowed the event. The frontier
was tranquil. With the exception of a small raid on a village in the
Wady Halfa district and an insignificant incursion into the Tokar Delta
the Dervish forces had during the year maintained 'a strictly defensive
attitude.' [EGYPT, No. 1, 1896.] Lord Cromer, however, realised that
while the case for the reservoirs would always claim attention, the
re-conquest of the Soudan might not receive the support of a Liberal
Government. The increasing possibility of French intrigues upon the
Upper Nile had also to be considered. All politics are series of
compromises and bargains, and while the historian may easily mark what
would have been the best possible moment for any great undertaking,
a good moment must content the administrator. Those who guarded the
interests of Egypt could hardly consent to an empty demonstration on the
Wady Halfa frontier at her expense, and the original intention of
the British Government was at once extended to the re-conquest of the
Dongola province--a definite and justifiable enterprise which must in
any case be the first step towards the recovery of the Soudan.
* * * * * *
It will be convenient, before embarking upon the actual chronicle of the
military operations, to explain how the money was obtained to pay for
the war. I desire to avoid the intricate though fascinating tangles
of Egyptian finance. Yet even when the subject is treated in the
most general way the difficulties which harass and impede the British
administrators and insult the sovereign power of Egypt--the mischievous
interference of a vindictive nation, the galling and almost intolerable
financial fetters in which a prosperous country is bound--may arouse in
the sympathetic reader a flush of annoyance, or at any rate a smile of
pitying wonder.
About half the revenue of Egypt is devoted to the development and
government of the country, and the other half to the payment of the
interest on the debt and other external charges; and, with a view
to preventing in the future the extravagance of the past, the London
Convention in 1885 prescribed that the annual expenditure of Egypt shall
not exceed a certain sum. When the expenditure exceeds this amount,
for every pound that is spent on the government or development of Egypt
another pound must be paid to the Commissioners of the Debt; so that,
after the limit is reached, for every pound that is required to promote
Egyptian interests two pounds must be raised by taxation from an already
heavily taxed community. But the working of this law was found to be so
severe that, like all laws which exceed the human conception of justice,
it has been somewhat modified. By an arrangement which was effected in
1888, the Caisse de la Dette are empowered, instead of devoting their
surplus pound to the sinking fund, to pay it into a general
reserve fund, from which the Commissioners may make grants to meet
'extraordinary expenses'; those expenses, that is to say, which may be
considered 'once for all'(capital) expenditure and not ordinary annual
charges.
The Dongola expedition was begun, as has been said, without reference
to the immediate internal condition of Egypt. The moment was a good one,
but not the best. It was obviously impossible for Egypt to provide for
the extraordinary expenses of the military operations out of revenue.
The Ministry of Finance therefore appealed to the Caisse de la Dette
for a grant from the general reserve fund. Here was an obvious case of
'extraordinary expenses.' The Egyptian Government asked for £E500,000.
The Caisse met in council. Six Commissioners--representing England,
France, Russia, Germany, Austria, and Italy--duly discussed the
application. Four Commissioners considered that the grant should be
made. Two Commissioners, those representing France and Russia, voted
against it. The majority decided. The grant was made. The money was
handed to the Egyptian Government and devoted to the prosecution of the
war.
Egypt as a sovereign power had already humbly begged to be allowed to
devote part of the surplus of her own revenues to her own objects. A
greater humiliation remained. The Commissioners of France and Russia,
who had been out-voted, brought an action against their colleagues on
the grounds that the grant was ultra vires; and against the Egyptian
Government for the return of the money thus wrongly obtained. Other
actions were brought at French instigation by various people purporting
to represent the bondholders, who declared that their interests
were threatened. The case was tried before the Mixed Tribunals, an
institution which exists in Egypt superior to and independent of the
sovereign rights of that country.
On the part of the Egyptian Government and the four Commissioners it was
contended that the Mixed Tribunals had no competency to try the case;
that the attacking parties had no right of action; that the Egyptian
Government had, in applying, done all that the law of liquidation
required; and that the act of sovereignty was complete as soon as the
Caisse, which was the legal representative of the bondholding interest,
had pronounced its decision.
The argument was a strong one; but had it been ten times as strong, the
result would have been the same. The Mixed Tribunals, an international
institution, delivered its judgment on strictly political grounds,
the judges taking their orders from the different countries they
represented. It was solemnly pronounced that war expenses were not
'extraordinary expenses.' The proximate destruction of the Khalifa's
power was treated quite as a matter of everyday occurrence. A state of
war was apparently regarded as usual in Egypt. On this wise and sensible
ground the Egyptian Government were condemned to pay back £E500,000,
together with interest and costs. After a momentary hesitation as to
whether the hour had not come to join issue on the whole subject of
the financial restrictions of Egypt, it was decided to bow to this
iniquitous decision. The money had now to be refunded. It had already
been spent. More than that, other sums were needed for the carrying on
of the war. The army was by then occupying Dongola, and was in actual
expectation of a Dervish counter-attack, and it was evident that
the military operations could not be suspended or arrested. It was
impossible to stop; yet without money it seemed impossible to go on;
and, besides, it appeared that Egypt would be unable to repay the
£E500,000 which she had been granted, and of which she was now deprived.
Such was the painful and difficult situation which a friendly nation,
in the utmost exercise of her wit and the extreme compass of her legal
rights, had succeeded in producing in a country for whose welfare she
had always professed an exaggerated regard. Such was the effect of
French diplomacy. But there is a Nemesis that waits on international
malpractices, however cunning. Now, as before and since, the very
astuteness of the French Ministers and agents was to strike a terrible
blow at French interests and French influence in Egypt. At this period
France still exercised a considerable force on Egyptian politics. One
Egyptian party, the weaker, but still by no means insignificant, looked
towards her for support. The news of the French success cheered their
hearts and raised their spirits. Orientals appreciate results. The
result was a distinct reverse to the British. The conclusion to the
native mind was obvious. Great Britain had been weighed in the European
balances and found wanting. In all Eastern countries a large proportion
of the population fluctuates uncertainly, eager only to be on the
winning side. All this volume of agitation and opinion began to glide
and flow towards the stronger Power, and when the Egyptian Government
found their appeal from the decision of the Court of First Instance of
the Mixed Tribunals to the International Court of Appeal at Alexandria
quashed, and the original decision confirmed, the defeat of the British
was no less complete than the triumph of the French.
But meanwhile the Consul-General acted. On the 2nd of December he
telegraphed to Lord Salisbury, reporting the judgment of the Court of
Appeal and asking that he might be 'authorised to state directly that
her Majesty's Government will be prepared to advance the money on
conditions to be hereafter arranged.' The reply was prompt, though
guarded. 'You are authorised,' said Lord Salisbury, 'by the Chancellor
of the Exchequer to state that though of course the primary liability
for the payment of the £E500,000 rests with the Egyptian Government,
her Majesty's Government will hold themselves prepared to advance, on
conditions to be decided hereafter, such a sum as they feel satisfied
that the Egyptian Treasury is powerless to provide.' [The original
£500,000 was afterwards increased to £800,000; which sum was paid by the
British Exchequer to the Egyptian Government, at first as a loan, and
later as a gift.] This obvious development does not seem to have been
foreseen by the French diplomatists, and when, on the 3rd of December,
it was rumoured in Cairo that Great Britain was prepared to pay the
money, a great feeling of astonishment and of uncertainty was created.
But the chances of the French interference proving effective still
seemed good. It was believed that the English Government would not be in
a position to make an advance to the Egyptian Government until funds had
been voted by Parliament for the purpose. It was also thought that Egypt
would be utterly unable to find the money immediately. In the meantime
the position was humiliating. France conceived herself mistress of
the situation. A complete disillusionment, however, awaited the French
Government. The taxes in Egypt, as in other countries, are not collected
evenly over the whole year. During some months there is a large cash
balance in the Exchequer. In others the money drains in slowly. It
happened at this period of the year, after the cotton crop had been
gathered, that a considerable balance had accumulated in the Treasury,
and on the guarantee of the English Government being received, to
the effect that they would ultimately assist Egypt with regard to the
expenses of the expedition, Lord Cromer determined to repay the money at
once.
The event was foreshadowed. On the 5th of December the Egyptian Council
of Ministers, presided over by the Khedive in person, decided on their
own initiative to despatch an official letter expressing in warm terms
their gratitude for the financial help offered them by her Majesty's
Government. 'I am desired,' said Boutros Pasha, 'to beg your lordship to
be good enough to convey to his lordship the Marquess of Salisbury
the expression of the lively gratitude of the Khedive and the Egyptian
Government for the great kindness which her Majesty's Government has
shown to them on this occasion.' [EGYPT, No. 1, 1897.]
On the 6th of December £E500,000, together with £E15,600 interest
and costs, in gold, was conveyed in boxes in a cart from the Egyptian
Treasury to the offices of the Caisse de la Dette. The effect was
tremendous. All Cairo knew of the difficulty. All Cairo witnessed the
manner in which it had been overcome. The lesson was too plain to be
lost on the native mind. The reverse of the French diplomacy was far
greater even than its success had appeared. For many years French
influence in Egypt had not received so heavy a blow; yet even in the
short space of time which this story covers it was to receive a still
more terrible wound.