I find many very ready to say what I ought to have done when a
battle is over; but I wish some of these persons would come and
tell me what to do before the battle.—WELLINGTON.
In 1877 Mr. Gladstone penned words to which later events gave an only too
striking verification. “Territorial questions,” he said, “are not to be
disposed of by arbitrary limits; we cannot enjoy the luxury of taking
Egyptian soil by pinches. We may seize an Aden and a Perim, where is no
already formed community of inhabitants, and circumscribe a tract at will.
But our first site in Egypt, be it by larceny or be it by emption, will be
the almost certain egg of a North African empire, that will grow and grow
until another Victoria and another Albert, titles of the lake-sources of
the White Nile, come within our borders; and till we finally join hands
across the equator with Natal and Cape Town, to say nothing of the
Transvaal and the Orange River on the south, or of Abyssinia or Zanzibar
to be swallowed by way of viaticum on our journey.”(45) It was one of the
ironies in which every active statesman’s life abounds, that the author of
that forecast should have been fated to take his country over its first
marches towards this uncoveted destination.
I
For many months after Mr. Gladstone formed his second ministry, there was
no reason to suppose that the Egyptian branch of the eastern question,
which for ever casts its (M28) perplexing shadow over Europe, was likely
to give trouble. The new Khedive held a regularly defined position, alike
towards his titular sovereign at Constantinople, towards reforming
ministers at Cairo, towards the creditors of his state, and towards the
two strong European Powers who for different reasons had the supervision
of Egyptian affairs in charge. The oppression common to oriental
governments seemed to be yielding before western standards. The load of
interest on a profligate debt was heavy, but it was not unskilfully
adjusted. The rate of village usury was falling, and the value of land was
rising. Unluckily the Khedive and his ministers neglected the grievances
of the army, and in January 1881 its leaders broke out in revolt. The
Khedive, without an armed force on whose fidelity he could rely, gave way
to the mutineers, and a situation was created, familiar enough in all
oriental states, and not unlike that in our own country between Charles
I., or in later days the parliament, and the roundhead troopers: anger and
revenge in the breast of the affronted civil ruler, distrust and dread of
punishment in the mind of the soldiery. During the autumn (1881) the
crisis grew more alarming. The Khedive showed neither energy nor tact; he
neither calmed the terror of the mutineers nor crushed them.
Insubordination in the army began to affect the civil population, and a
national party came into open existence in the chamber of notables. The
soldiers found a head in Arabi, a native Egyptian, sprung of fellah
origin. Want either of stern resolution or of politic vision in the
Khedive and his minister had transferred the reality of power to the
insurgents. The Sultan of Turkey here saw his chance; he made a series of
diplomatic endeavours to reestablish a shattered sovereignty over his
nominal feudatory on the Nile. This pretension, and the spreading tide of
disorder, brought England and France actively upon the scene. We can see
now, what expert observers on the spot saw then, that the two Powers
mistook the nature of the Arabist movement. They perceived in it no more
than a military rising. It was in truth national as well as military; it
was anti-European, and above all, it was in its objects anti-Turk.
In 1879 the two governments had insisted on imposing over Egypt two
controllers, with limited functions but irremovable. This, as Mr.
Gladstone argued later, was to bring foreign intervention into the heart
of the country, and to establish in the strictest sense a political
control.(46) As a matter of fact, not then well known, in September 1879
Lord Salisbury had come to a definite understanding with the French
ambassador in London, that the two governments would not tolerate the
establishment in Egypt of political influence by any competing European
Power; and what was more important, that they were prepared to take action
to any extent that might be found necessary to give effect to their views
in this respect. The notable acquisition by Lord Beaconsfield of an
interest in the Suez Canal, always regarded by Mr. Gladstone as a
politically ill-advised and hazardous transaction, had tied the English
knot in Egypt still tighter.
The policy of the Gladstone cabinet was defined in general words in a
despatch from the foreign minister to the British agent at Cairo. Lord
Granville (November 1881) disclaimed any self-aggrandising designs on the
part of either England or France. He proclaimed the desire of the cabinet
to uphold in Egypt the administrative independence secured to her by the
decrees of the sovereign power on the Bosphorus. Finally he set forth that
the only circumstances likely to force the government of the Queen to
depart from this course of conduct, would be the occurrence in Egypt of a
state of anarchy.(47)
Justly averse to a joint occupation of Egypt by England and France, as the
most perilous of all possible courses, the London cabinet looked to the
Sultan as the best instrument for restoring order. Here they were
confronted by two insurmountable obstacles: first, the steadfast hostility
of France to any form of Turkish intervention, and second, that strong
current of antipathy to the Sultan which had been set flowing over British
opinion in the days of Midlothian.(48)
(M29) In December (1881) the puissant genius of Gambetta acquired
supremacy for a season, and he without delay pressed upon the British
cabinet the necessity of preparing for joint and immediate action.
Gambetta prevailed. The Turk was ruled out, and the two Powers of the west
determined on action of their own. The particular mode of common action,
however, in case action should become necessary, was left entirely open.
Meanwhile the British cabinet was induced to agree to Gambetta’s proposal
to send instructions to Cairo, assuring the Khedive that England and
France were closely associated in the resolve to guard by their united
efforts against all causes of complaint, internal or external, which might
menace the existing order of things in Egypt. This was a memorable
starting-point in what proved an amazing journey. This Joint Note (January
6, 1881) was the first link in a chain of proceedings that brought each of
the two governments who were its authors, into the very position that they
were most strenuously bent on averting; France eventually ousted herself
from Egypt, and England was eventually landed in plenary and permanent
occupation. So extraordinary a result only shows how impenetrable were the
windings of the labyrinth. The foremost statesmen of England and France
were in their conning towers, and England at any rate employed some of the
ablest of her agents. Yet each was driven out of an appointed course to an
unforeseen and an unwelcome termination. Circumstances like these might
teach moderation both to the French partisans who curse the vacillations
of M. de Freycinet, and to the English partisans who, while rejoicing in
the ultimate result, curse the vacillations of the cabinet of Mr.
Gladstone, in wisely striving to unravel a knot instead of at all risks
cutting it.
II
The present writer described the effect of the Joint Note in the following
words written at the time(49): “At Cairo the Note fell like a bombshell.
Nobody there had expected any such declaration, and nobody was aware of
any reason why it should have been launched. What was felt was that so
serious a step on such delicate ground could not have been adopted without
deliberate calculation, nor without some grave intention. The Note was,
therefore, taken to mean that the Sultan was to be thrust still further in
the background; that the Khedive was to become more plainly the puppet of
England and France; and that Egypt would sooner or later in some shape or
other be made to share the fate of Tunis. The general effect was,
therefore, mischievous in the highest degree. The Khedive was encouraged
in his opposition to the sentiments of his Chamber. The military,
national, or popular party was alarmed. The Sultan was irritated. The
other European Powers were made uneasy. Every element of disturbance was
roused into activity.”
It is true that even if no Joint Note had ever been despatched, the
prospects of order were unpromising. The most careful analysis of the
various elements of society in Egypt by those best acquainted at first
hand with all those elements, whether internal or external, whether
Egyptian or European, and with all the roots of antagonism thriving among
them, exhibited no promise of stability. If Egypt had been a simple case
of an oriental government in revolutionary commotion, the ferment might
have been left to work itself out. Unfortunately Egypt, in spite of the
maps, lies in Europe. So far from being a simple case, it was
indescribably entangled, and even the desperate questions that rise in our
minds at the mention of the Balkan peninsula, of Armenia, of
Constantinople, offer no such complex of difficulties as the Egyptian
riddle in 1881-2. The law of liquidation(50)—whatever else we may think of
it—at least made the policy of Egypt for the Egyptians unworkable. Yet the
British cabinet were not wrong in thinking that this was no reason for
sliding into the competing policy of Egypt for the English _and_ the
French, which would have been more unworkable still.
England strove manfully to hold the ground that she (M30) had taken in
November. Lord Granville told the British ambassador in Paris that his
government disliked intervention either by themselves or anybody else as
much as ever; that they looked upon the experiment of the Chamber with
favourable eyes; that they wished to keep the connection of the Porte with
Egypt so far as it was compatible with Egyptian liberties; and that the
object of the Joint Note was to strengthen the existing government of
Egypt. Gambetta, on the other hand, was convinced that all explanations of
this sort would only serve further to inflate the enemies of France and
England in the Egyptian community, and would encourage their designs upon
the law of liquidation. Lord Granville was honourably and consistently
anxious to confine himself within the letter of international right, while
Gambetta was equally anxious to intervene in Egyptian administration,
within right or without it, and to force forward that Anglo-French
occupation in which Lord Granville so justly saw nothing but danger and
mischief. Once more Lord Granville, at the end of the month which had
opened with the Joint Note, in a despatch to the ambassador at Paris
(January 30), defined the position of the British cabinet. What measures
should be taken to meet Egyptian disorders? The Queen’s government had “a
strong objection to the occupation of Egypt by themselves.” Egypt and
Turkey would oppose; it would arouse the jealousy of other Powers, who
would, as there was even already good reason to believe, make counter
demonstrations; and, finally, such an occupation would be as distasteful
to the French nation as the sole occupation of Egypt by the French would
be to ourselves. Joint occupation by England and France, in short, might
lessen some difficulties, but it would seriously aggravate others. Turkish
occupation would be a great evil, but it would not entail political
dangers as great as those attending the other two courses. As for the
French objections to the farther admission of the other European Powers to
intervene in Egyptian affairs, the cabinet agreed that England and France
had an exceptional position in Egypt, but might it not be desirable to
enter into some communication with the other Powers, as to the best way of
dealing with a state of things that appeared likely to interfere both with
the Sultan’s firmans and with Egypt’s international engagements?
At this critical moment Gambetta fell from power. The mark that he had set
upon western policy in Egypt remained. Good observers on the spot, trained
in the great school of India, thought that even if there were no more than
a chance of working with the national party, the chance was well worth
trying. As the case was put at the time, “It is impossible to conceive a
situation that more imperatively called for caution, circumspection, and
deference to the knowledge of observers on the scene, or one that was
actually handled with greater rashness and hurry. Gambetta had made up his
mind that the military movement was leading to the abyss, and that it must
be peremptorily arrested. It may be that he was right in supposing that
the army, which had first found its power in the time of Ismail, would go
from bad to worse. But everything turned upon the possibility of pulling
up the army, without arousing other elements more dangerous still. M.
Gambetta’s impatient policy was worked out in his own head without
reference to the conditions on the scene, and the result was what might
have been expected.”(51)
III
The dual control, the system of carrying on the Egyptian government under
the advice of an English and a French agent, came to an end. The rude
administration in the provinces fell to pieces. The Khedive was helplessly
involved in struggle after struggle with the military insurgents. The army
became as undisputed masters of the government, as the Cromwellian army at
some moments in our civil war. Meanwhile the British government, true to
Mr. Gladstone’s constant principle, endeavoured to turn the question from
being purely Anglo-French, into an international question. The Powers were
not unfavourable, but nothing came of it. Both from Paris and from London
somewhat bewildered suggestions proceeded by way of evading the central
enigma, whether the intervention should be Turkish (M31) or Anglo-French.
It was decided at any rate to send powerful Anglo-French fleets to
Alexandria, and Mr. Gladstone only regretted that the other Powers
(including Turkey) had not been invited to have their flags represented.
To this the French objected, with the evil result that the other Powers
were displeased, and the good effect that the appearance of the Sultan in
the field might have had upon the revolutionary parties in Egypt was lost.
On May 21, 1882, M. de Freycinet went so far as to say that, though he was
still opposed to Turkish intervention, he would not regard as intervention
a case in which Turkish forces were summoned by England and France to
operate under Anglo-French control, upon conditions specified by the two
Powers. If it became advisable to land troops, recourse should be had on
these terms to Turkish troops and them only. Lord Granville acceded. He
proposed (May 24) to address the Powers, to procure international sanction
for the possible despatch of Turkish troops to Egypt. M. Freycinet
insisted that no such step was necessary. At the same time (June 1), M. de
Freycinet told the Chamber that there were various courses to which they
might be led, but he excluded one, and this was a French military
intervention. That declaration narrowed the case to a choice between
English intervention, or Turkish, or Anglo-Turkish, all of them known to
be profoundly unpalatable to French sentiment. Such was the end of Lord
Granville’s prudent and loyal endeavour to move in step with France.
The next proposal from M. de Freycinet was a European conference, as
Prince Bismarck presumed, to cover the admissibility of Turkish
intervention. A conference was too much in accord with the ideas of the
British cabinet, not to be welcomed by them. The Turk, however, who now
might have had the game in his own hands, after a curious exhibition of
duplicity and folly, declined to join, and the conference at first met
without him (June 23). Then, pursuing tactics well known at all times at
Constantinople, the Sultan made one of his attempts to divide the Powers,
by sending a telegram to London (June 25), conferring upon England rights
of exclusive control in the administration of Egypt.
This Mr. Gladstone and Lord Granville declined without even consulting the
cabinet, as too violent an infraction, I suppose, of the cardinal
principle of European concert. The Queen, anxious for an undivided English
control at any price, complained that the question was settled without
reference to the cabinet, and here the Queen was clearly not wrong, on
doctrines of cabinet authority and cabinet responsibility that were
usually held by nobody more strongly than by the prime minister himself.
Mr. Gladstone and his cabinet fought as hard as they could, and for good
reasons, against single-handed intervention by Great Britain. When they
saw that order could not be re-established without the exercise of force
from without, they insisted that this force should be applied by the
Sultan as sovereign of Egypt. They proposed this solution to the
conference, and Lord Dufferin urged it upon the Sultan. With curious
infatuation (repeated a few years later) the Sultan stood aside. When it
became necessary to make immediate provision for the safety of the Suez
Canal, England proposed to undertake this duty conjointly with France, and
solicited the co-operation of any other Power. Italy was specially invited
to join. Then when the progress of the rebellion had broken the Khedive’s
authority and brought Egypt to anarchy, England invited France and Italy
to act with her in putting the rebellion down. France and Italy declined.
England still urged the Porte to send troops, insisting only on such
conditions as were indispensable to secure united action. The Porte again
held back, and before it carried out an agreement to sign a military
convention, events had moved too fast.(52) Thus, by the Sultan’s
perversities and the fluctuations of purpose and temper in France,
single-handed intervention was inexorably forced upon the one Power that
had most consistently striven to avoid it. Bismarck, it is true, judged
that Arabi was now a power to be reckoned with; the Austrian
representatives used language of like purport; and Freycinet also inclined
to coming to terms with Arabi. The British cabinet had persuaded
themselves that the overthrow of the military (M32) party was an
indispensable precedent to any return of decently stable order.
The situation in Egypt can hardly be adequately understood without a
multiplicity of details for which this is no place, and in such cases
details are everything. Diplomacy in which the Sultan of Turkey plays a
part is always complicated, and at the Conference of Constantinople the
cobwebs were spun and brushed away and spun again with diligence
unexampled. The proceedings were without any effect upon the course of
events. The Egyptian revolution ran its course. The moral support of
Turkish commissioners sent by the Sultan to Cairo came to nothing, and the
moral influence of the Anglo-French squadron at Alexandria came to
nothing, and in truth it did more harm than good. The Khedive’s throne and
life were alike in danger. The Christians flocked down from the interior.
The residents in Alexandria were trembling for their lives. At the end of
May our agent at Cairo informed his government that a collision between
Moslems and Christians might occur at any moment. On June 11 some fifty
Europeans were massacred by a riotous mob at Alexandria. The British
consul was severely wounded, and some sailors of the French fleet were
among the killed. Greeks and Jews were murdered in other places. At last a
decisive blow was struck. For several weeks the Egyptians had been at work
upon the fortifications of Alexandria, and upon batteries commanding the
British fleet. The British admiral was instructed (July 3) that if this
operation were continued, he should immediately destroy the earthworks and
silence the batteries. After due formalities he (July 11) opened fire at
seven in the morning, and by half-past five in the evening the Alexandria
guns were silenced. Incendiaries set the town on fire, the mob pillaged
it, and some murders were committed. The French ships had sailed away,
their government having previously informed the British ambassador in
Paris that the proposed operation would be an act of war against Egypt,
and such an act of war without the express consent of the Chamber would
violate the constitution.
The new situation in which England, now found herself was quickly
described by the prime minister to the House of Commons. On July 22, he
said: “We should not fully discharge our duty, if we did not endeavour to
convert the present interior state of Egypt from anarchy and conflict to
peace and order. We shall look during the time that remains to us to the
co-operation of the Powers of civilised Europe, if it be in any case open
to us. But if every chance of obtaining co-operation is exhausted, the
work will be undertaken by the single power of England.” As for the
position of the Powers it may be described in this way. Germany and
Austria were cordial and respectful; France anxious to retain a completely
friendly understanding, but wanting some equivalent for the inevitable
decline of her power in Egypt; Italy jealous of our renewing close
relations with France; Russia still sore, and on the lookout for some
plausible excuse for getting the Berlin arrangement of 1878 revised in her
favour, without getting into difficulties with Berlin itself.
France was not unwilling to take joint action with England for the defence
of the canal, but would not join England in intervention beyond that
object. At the same time Freycinet wished it to be understood that France
had no objection to our advance, if we decided to make an advance. This
was more than once repeated. Gambetta in vehement wrath declared his dread
lest the refusal to co-operate with England should shake an alliance of
priceless value; and lest besides that immense catastrophe, it should hand
over to the possession of England for ever, territories, rivers, and ports
where the French right to live and trade was as good as hers. The mighty
orator declaimed in vain. Suspicion of the craft of Bismarck was in France
more lively than suspicion of aggressive designs in the cabinet of Mr.
Gladstone, and the Chamber was reminded how extremely well it would suit
Germany that France should lock up her military force in Tunis yesterday,
in Egypt to-day. Ingenious speakers, pointing to Europe covered with camps
of armed men; pointing to the artful statesmanship that had pushed Austria
into Bosnia and (M33) Herzegovina, and encouraged France herself to occupy
Tunis; pointing to the expectant nations reserving their liberty for
future occasions—all urgently exhorted France now to reserve her own
liberty of action too. Under the influence of such ideas as these, and by
the working of rival personalities and parties, the Chamber by an immense
majority turned the Freycinet government out of office (July 29) rather
than sanction even such a degree of intervention as concerned the
protection of the Suez Canal.
Nine days after the bombardment of Alexandria, the British cabinet decided
on the despatch of what was mildly called an expeditionary force to the
Mediterranean, under the command of Sir Garnet Wolseley. The general’s
alertness, energy, and prescient calculation brought him up to Arabi at
Tel-el-Kebir (Sept. 13), and there at one rapid and decisive blow he
crushed the military insurrection.(53)
IV
The bombardment of Alexandria cost Mr. Gladstone the British colleague who
in fundamentals stood closest to him of them all. In the opening days of
July, amid differences of opinion that revealed themselves in frequent and
protracted meetings of the cabinet, it was thought probable that Mr.
Gladstone and Bright would resign rather than be parties to despatching
troops to the Mediterranean; and the two representative radicals were
expected to join them. Then came the bombardment, but only Bright went—not
until after earnest protestations from the prime minister. As Mr.
Gladstone described things later to the Queen, Bright’s letters and
conversation consisted very much more of references to his past career and
strong statements of feeling, than of attempts to reason on the existing
facts of the case, with the obligations that they appeared to entail. Not
satisfied with his own efforts, Mr. Gladstone turned to Lord Granville,
who had been a stout friend in old days when Bright’s was a name of
reproach and obloquy:—
_July 12._—Here is the apprehended letter from dear old John
Bright, which turns a white day into a black one. It would not be
fair in me to beg an interview. His kindness would make him
reluctant to decline; but he would come laden with an
apprehension, that I by impetuosity and tenacity should endeavour
to overbear him. But pray consider whether you could do it. He
would not have the same fear of your dealings with him. I do not
think you could get a _reversal_, but perhaps he would give you
another short delay, and at the end of this the sky might be
further settled.
Two days later Mr. Gladstone and Bright had a long, and we may be sure
that it was an earnest, conversation. The former of them the same day put
his remarks into the shape of a letter, which the reader may care to have,
as a statement of the case for the first act of armed intervention, which
led up by a direct line to the English occupation of Egypt, Soudan wars,
and to some other events from which the veil is not even yet lifted:—
The act of Tuesday [the bombardment of Alexandria] was a solemn
and painful one, for which I feel myself to be highly responsible,
and it is my earnest desire that we should all view it now, as we
shall wish at the last that we had viewed it. Subject to this
testing rule, I address you as one whom I suppose not to believe
all use whatever of military force to be unlawful; as one who
detests war in general and believes most wars to have been sad
errors (in which I greatly agree with you), but who in regard to
any particular use of force would look upon it for a justifying
cause, and after it would endeavour to appreciate its actual
effect.
The general situation in Egypt had latterly become one in which
everything was governed by sheer military violence. Every
legitimate authority—the Khedive, the Sultan, the notables, and
the best men of the country, such as Cherif and Sultan pashas—had
been put down, and a situation, of _force_ had been created, which
could only be met by force. This being so, we had laboured to the
uttermost, almost alone but not without success, to secure that if
force were employed against the violence of Arabi, it should be
force armed with the highest sanction of law; that it should be
the force of the sovereign, authorised and restrained by the
united Powers of Europe, who in such a case represent the
civilised world.
While this is going on, a by-question arises. The British fleet,
lawfully present in the waters of Alexandria, had the right and
duty of self-defence. It demanded the discontinuance of attempts
made to strengthen the armament of the fortifications.... Met by
fraud and falsehood in its demand, it required surrender with a
view to immediate dismantling, and this being refused, it
proceeded to destroy.... The conflagration which followed, the
pillage and any other outrages effected by the released convicts,
these are not due to us, but to the seemingly wanton wickedness of
Arabi....
Such being the amount of our act, what has been its reception and
its effect? As to its reception, we have not received nor heard of
a word of disapproval from any Power great or small, or from any
source having the slightest authority. As to its effect, it has
taught many lessons, struck a heavy, perhaps a deadly, blow at the
reign of violence, brought again into light the beginnings of
legitimate rule, shown the fanaticism of the East that massacre of
Europeans is not likely to be perpetrated with impunity, and
greatly advanced the Egyptian question towards a permanent and
peaceable solution. I feel that in being party to this work I have
been a labourer in the cause of peace. Your co-operation in that
cause, with reference to preceding and collateral points, has been
of the utmost value, and has enabled me to hold my ground, when
without you it might have been difficult.
The correspondence closed with a wish from Mr. Gladstone: “Believe in the
sore sense of practical loss, and the (I trust) unalterable friendship and
regard with which I remain, etc.” When Bright came to explain his
resignation in parliament, he said something about the moral law, which
led to a sharp retort from the prime minister, but still their friendship
did appear to remain unalterable, as Mr. Gladstone trusted that it would.
When the question by and by arose whether Arabi should be put to death,
Bright wrote to the prime minister on behalf of clemency. Mr. Gladstone in
replying took a severe line: “I am sorry to say the inquiry is too likely
to show that Arabi is very much more than a rebel. Crimes of the gravest
kind have been committed; and with most of them he stands, I fear, in
_presumptive_ (that is, unproved) connection. In truth I must say that,
having begun with no prejudice against him, and with the strong desire
that he should be saved, I am almost driven to the conclusion that he is a
bad man, and that it will not be an injustice if he goes the road which
thousands of his innocent countrymen through him have trodden.” It is a
great mistake to suppose that Mr. Gladstone was all leniency, or that when
he thought ill of men, he stayed either at palliating words or at
half-measures.