Bonaparte in Egypt and the Egyptians of To-day Part 4

The mere fact that the oppression from which he suffered was consistent with the laws of the land stirred the Englishman to hope for better things, for if he could by any means bring about a change of the laws he could not fail to benefit from it, and that such changes as he desired could be brought about he was convinced. French and Egyptians suffered not from the laws, but from the abuse of such legal authority as existed. The English, too, might, and did, hope to benefit from the mutual rivalries of the parties and cla.s.ses that jointly oppressed them. The others had no such resource. And the Englishman's belief in his ability to rebel, and to rebel successfully, gave him a self-reliance and determination that everything denied to the Egyptian, and which the French could only employ in the extermination of their tyrants. Other influences were in favour of the peaceful realisation of the Englishman's hopes. He had friends in the cla.s.ses above him. There were men like Howard and Wilberforce to plead the cause of the prisoner and the slave, like Cobbett, Paine, and Wilkes to stir the people up to effort, like Burke and Pitt to preach reform, and yet more potent than all these, like Lindsey and Raikes, the founders of Sunday Schools, who, by teaching the people the value of education, laid the real foundations of the England of to-day. In Egypt there were not, and could not be, such men as these. The Egyptians had, as we have seen, friends and protectors in the Ulema, but friends whose ability to aid them was altogether out of proportion to their willingness, and whose narrow training and insufficient culture unfitted them to cope with the evils they had to face, and which many of them would have honestly laboured to amend could they but have found a way to do so. Thus all the conditions and circ.u.mstances in the three countries tended in different directions--in one, to move the people to peaceful action; in another, to drive them to destructive wrath; and in the third, to lead them to patient submission. For the Englishman and the French, then, there were ways to progress--ways enc.u.mbered with difficulties and dangers, but with something more than a mere possibility of success to draw them onward--while the Egyptian was on all sides hemmed in by the impossible. Nor have we yet seen all the causes that have helped to determine the present character of the English and that of the Egyptians.

Then, as now, the Mahomedan peoples were taught by the Ulema, as were, and are, the people of England by the Church Catechism, that it is their bounden duty to submit themselves to all their governors, teachers, spiritual pastors and masters, and to order themselves lowly and reverently to all their betters. But the reception accorded to this teaching by the two peoples was, and is, vastly different, and that it was and is so is mainly due to the conditions under which they are placed. The blood of the English is largely tinged with that of the restless, adventurous peoples whose early invasions of their island fill so many pages of its early history, and by descent, the influence of climate, and the whole course of their history they have become possessed of a spirit of independence, energy, and self-reliance that instinctively leads them to a broad and healthy interpretation of this doctrine. But this spirit was altogether foreign and unknown to the Egyptian, and that it should be so was an almost inevitable result of the peculiar conditions affecting their country as contrasted with those prevailing in England. Thus in our sea-girt home, with its uncertain weather, the success of the farmer's labours was always in a great measure dependent upon his own skill and energy. Through all the changes of the seasons of the year each day brought to him its round of duties to be performed, duties exacting not only toilsome labour, but thoughtful care and wise foresight in adjusting that labour to the ever-varying conditions he had to meet.

It was not so in Egypt. There the measure of the farmer's success was mainly the result of the operations of Nature, for the richness or poverty of his harvest was proportioned, not to his efforts, but to the abundance or scarcity of the inundation of the Nile. With a bountiful flood he had little to think of but the purely routine labours of his fields; with a scanty stream no labour, no energy of his could save him from the disaster of an impoverished harvest. In England, therefore, where constant foresight, thought, and well-arranged labour were needed to win subsistence from an ungenerous soil, the farmer learned to think and act for himself, whereas in Egypt, where he was at the mercy of the Nile, he drifted on from day to day undisturbed by aught but the mere mechanically performed labour of the fields. In both countries the bent thus given to the minds of the agricultural cla.s.ses with respect to their daily labour naturally affected their manner of regarding other matters. Thus the Englishman brought to all matters that he had to deal with at least something of the care and thought he gave to his daily work, and weighed and balanced probabilities and possibilities in his political and social affairs just as he did in the choosing of a crop, while the Egyptian left almost all things to shape their own course, even as he of necessity accepted his harvest as it came. The character which the agricultural cla.s.ses in the two countries thus acquired reacted upon the people generally, for it is the character of the great ma.s.s of the people that in general finally decides the character and fate of a nation.

And other causes contributed to increase the difference in the character of the two peoples. In England taxation was excessive and crushing in its effects upon all but the wealthy, but it was systematic and did not prohibit or prevent the acc.u.mulation of wealth, whereas in Egypt, while the nominal taxation was lighter it was in effect far worse, and the more so that its arbitrary a.s.sessment and irregular collection, coupled with the atrocious tyranny and cruelty by which these were accompanied, and the oft-recurring infliction of illegal taxes and impositions, effectually deprived the people of all opportunity of, or desire for, improving their position. In England, too, labour of some kind was indispensable. Life was a constant struggle, and he who did not work was ever in imminent danger of starving. It was quite otherwise in Egypt. The grinding, hopeless poverty that not only then but still exists, though happily we may hope in an ever-lessening degree in England, was and is unknown in the East. There so few and simple are the needs of the poor that the humblest can always afford to share the little he has, and the absolute dest.i.tution, but too common in England, is there practically impossible. Moreover, the Englishman, though enjoying the benefit of a temperate climate, if he would not perish from inanition from the inclemency of its winter, was compelled to find by some means or other food of a more nourishing and stimulating quality than that which the Egyptian needed. He had also to provide himself with an amount of clothing and artificial warmth which the genial though enervating air of his native land rendered altogether unnecessary to the Egyptian. Of necessity, therefore, the Englishman's needs stirred him to an activity and energy to which the conditions of life in Egypt supplied no inducement.

Lastly, the Englishman who could acquire wealth was a.s.sured of the peaceful enjoyment of it, whereas the Egyptian knew but too well that the merest rumour of his possessing aught more than the bare necessaries of life could but subject him to tyranny and torture, until he had surrendered his last coin or seizable pennyworth of value. From this diversity in the conditions and circ.u.mstances of the two people, we can see why to the one the instruction to be content with that state of life in which he found himself was as unpalatable as to the other, it was a mere summing-up of the whole philosophy of life. However hard the condition of the Englishman's lot might be he could always look to improve it; in fact for him the one hope of happiness lay in the possibility of bettering his condition, while that of the Egyptian lay in pa.s.sive submission to the chains that bound him. That, of the two people, the Egyptian was in some respects, for the time, the happiest is at least possible. Like the Englishman, the Egyptian prizes more than all else his individual freedom: the mere liberty to come and go, to work or idle as the impulse of the moment dictates, and detests constraint and compulsion of every kind.

This freedom he enjoyed with no other bar than the recurring fear of the tax-collector, the Corvee, or the Korbag, to which he was liable.

These, however, were evils that afflicted him only at intervals, and the Corvee, one that he always hopefully looked to escape from, while as to the Korbag, the long strip of hippopotamus hide, which was the common instrument of punishment and extortion, ever in the hands of his oppressors, though too often used with the murderous brutality to which the negro slaves of America were then and long after subject, this would seem in general to have been to the fellaheen not much more terrible than was the cane of a flogging master to the boys of an English Dotheboys School of the time. Hence his personal wants being too few and too easily supplied to give him any serious thought, the Egyptian sauntered through life on the whole contentedly enough, while the Englishman was ever ceaselessly engaged in a struggle for the bare necessaries of life; and it was as natural, therefore, for the Egyptian to accept with pa.s.sive acquiescence the submission taught him by his guides, as it was inevitable that the Englishman should criticise or ignore that preached to him. Thus it was the circ.u.mstances of their lives, and not, as has so often been said, their religion, or their "fatalism," that caused the Egyptians to lack so absolutely the energy and self-reliance so dominant in the character of the Englishman, and this lack that rendered them so incapable of self-government.

That this is a correct deduction from the facts, we may see by comparing the Egyptian Moslems with the Copts, for these are of the same race, inhabit the same country, and are subject to most of the conditions of life affecting the Moslem Egyptians, and yet are essentially different from them in character and apt.i.tude. So great and so marked is this difference that it is referred to and commented upon by every one who has undertaken to write of Egypt and its peoples, although, apparently incapable of discovering the true origin of the contrast, those who have discussed it have either dismissed it as a problem admittedly beyond their comprehension, or have claimed that the Copt's superiority in intelligence and energy is the product of his religion. But save in matters of doctrine and dogma the religious teaching that the Copt receives is almost exactly the same as that given to the Egyptian Moslem, with this important difference, namely, that the Copts have always considered that obedience given to a non-Christian Government is but a duty of expediency, one exacted by force and not by right, and binding upon them only so far as submission is essential to their self-preservation. It was a matter of life and death to the Copt that he should court the forbearance and favour of his superiors. That he should do this he was bound to acquire all that he could of wealth and influence, and his relations with the rulers of the country as an indispensable servant enabled him to do this in a manner, and to an extent, wholly impossible to his Moslem countrymen.

Thus political conditions acted upon the Copt as climate and social conditions upon the Englishman, forcing him to bestir himself with energy on his own behalf, to cultivate and exercise his natural ingenuity, and trust solely in his own ability. The comparatively easy-going life of the peasant was not for him, inasmuch as he was not permitted to own land, and therefore, like the Englishman, he must either work or starve. And in doing this he had not only to compete against his fellows, but to make his way against the open hostility of the governing cla.s.ses and of the people generally. Hence it is not to his religion but to the circ.u.mstances surrounding his profession of that religion that the Copt is indebted for both the good and bad characteristics by which he is distinguished, for it was these that gave him the energy, intelligence, and self-reliance he undoubtedly possesses, while at the same time they too often rendered him servile, false, bigoted, and fanatical.

It should now be clear that it is neither the "fatalism" nor the religion of the Egyptian Moslem that unfits him to govern his country.

If any further evidence be wanted to justify this conclusion it is to be found in the Mamaluks and the Jews. The former, although they were Mahomedans, were by race, training, and all the circ.u.mstances of their lives, exactly opposed to the Egyptian Moslems in all their characteristics; their restless activity was strenuously employed in promoting their own interests, and in the acquisition of wealth, and in seeking these they were recklessly indifferent to the baseness of the treacheries and brutal tyranny that served their ends, and yet their religion and fatalism were the same as those of the Egyptians.

As to the Jews, these were a people suffering graver political and social disabilities than those that burthened the Copts, and wholly foreign to the Egyptian Moslem or Copt in race, habits, and apt.i.tudes; yet under the same conditions we see them developing, not in Egypt only, but in all parts of the world, the same qualities as those of the Copts and developing them in greater or less degree, precisely as the exigencies of their surroundings control them. And as the inhabitants of towns and cities in which the struggle for existence is always keener than it is in rural districts are invariably intellectually superior to the people of those districts, so it was in Cairo, the Moslem traders and artisans, who formed the bulk of the population there, approaching the Copts in the intelligence and energy so lacking in those employed in the cultivation of the land.

I have now, I hope, shown with sufficient clearness and detail how the character and actions of the Egyptians in 1798 corresponded to the circ.u.mstances of their lives. We have been told that men should rise above their surroundings, but as I have already said, the very existence of the Egyptian depended upon his submission. The swimmer, caught in the fierce rush of a cataract, has no hope of safety but in submitting to the current and devoting all his energies to guarding himself from the rocks and eddies that are the most pressing of the dangers of his position. Such was the case with the Egyptian. To have struggled against the stream would but have been to waste his strength in futile and fatal effort, and although it was probably unconsciously that he did so, he acted in the only way to ensure the continuance of his own existence.

CHAPTER IX

THE GATHERING OF A STORM

Cairo in 1798 as a city wherein to wander was much safer for the wanderer than was London in that year of grace. It had no Alsatia, such as Whitefriars had been in the days of Nigel, nor "Holy Land,"

such as the Seven Dials was down almost to our own day. It had no criminal cla.s.s, and its mendicants were then as now few, and almost all strangers from elsewhere. The peaceful citizen or stranger could walk through any part of the town by day or night free from the dangers he would even to-day encounter if he ventured through some of the slums of the "World's Metropolis." Cairo is to-day unchanged from what it was in this respect save in the infamous quarter of the town devoted to the nightly carnival of vice that European civilisation demands, and, under the august protection of Consuls-General and all the pomp and glory of diplomatic dignity, obtains.

Volney has drawn a sufficiently deplorable picture of the visible poverty of the Cairenes as he saw them in 1783, but it is highly probable that this glaring poverty was to a large extent of the same self-flaunting type so common in India, where certain sufficiently well-to-do cla.s.ses of the people seem by their outward showing to know no mean between ostentatious prodigality and a pretence of poverty.

But there was then in Cairo a cla.s.s that gained its uncertain meals from still more uncertain employment, or from the hospitality or charity that in the East so seldom fails. There were, too, some waifs and wastrels, as there will always be in all great cities and towns until civilisation shall have pa.s.sed its present hobbledehoy-hood.

These two cla.s.ses suffered much from the total suspension of business in the town, and rendered desperate by the complete failure of all their ordinary means of livelihood, and emboldened by the absence of all authority resulting from the flight of the Mamaluks and almost all the officials and leading men of the town, broke out in lawless disorder, and, joined by many of those whom the panic-stampede had reduced to poverty, began pillaging the deserted houses and mansions of all that was left in them.

Bonaparte being informed of this, at once sent parties of soldiers into the town with the double object of suppressing outrage and robbery and of seizing everything of value that the Mamaluks and other fugitives had been forced by the haste of their departure to leave behind them. Proclamation was also made that whatever had been taken by any person from any of the deserted houses should at once be surrendered to the French, and, as a warning to those who might be inclined to disobey this command, several men who were caught either in the act of stealing or in the possession of stolen property were summarily executed. Not content with these measures for the recovery and protection of what he no doubt regarded as his lawful booty, Bonaparte is said to have countenanced, if he did not actually order, the infliction of torture with a view to forcing the disclosure of hidden wealth.

The prompt and energetic steps taken by the French quickly restored order in the town, and this having been done Bonaparte began to take in hand the work of introducing civilisation as it was then understood in France. Like the common type of "Reformer" and "Philanthropist," in doing this he effectually barred the way to the success of his efforts by coupling his professions of friendship for the people with conditions. It was a case of "Be my brother, or I will slay you." He was going to render the people for ever happy and content beyond their dreams, but they, on their part, must yield the most implicit obedience to all that seemed necessary or advisable to him. They were to have cake and apples like the good children in the nursery tale, but, like them, they must all sit in a row and behave nicely--in the French fashion, which at least was appropriate, since the cakes and apples they were promised were all of the latest fashion from Paris itself. It is rather a pitiable picture that the "Little Corporal"

makes, thus playing the part of a glorified b.u.mble with "Civilisation"

and other fallacious figments for his "parochial" board, and the porridge bowl of "the house" filled with "Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity," to be doled out in duly measured spoonfuls to the hungry and needy. Poor Cairenes! like the hungry Oliver they were to take what they got and be thankful, and not mutinously set up a standard of their own. They were not only to be fed but feasted. They were to remain good Mahomedans, be free in all respects, and be most happy and prosperous but--they must wear the c.o.c.kade, and shout "Vive la Republique" in such French or Arabic as they could. So, as a foretaste of the banquet to which they were invited, fair words and fine promises were lavishly scattered among them, but not without a liberal seasoning of orders, warnings, and threats. For a short time all went well, but it was not very long before the people began to think that the seasoning was somewhat out of proportion to the rest of the dish.

In the time of the Beys, which within a week seemed to the Cairenes to have grown old and distant, the streets of the town had been swept and watered by day and lit by night, but, like everything else good and useful in those days, these things had been done in a manner that left much to be desired. As the town settled slowly back to its old round of life, if left to themselves the people would, undoubtedly, have renewed these and others of their ancient customs; but these were matters in which French propriety could brook no delay, and orders were therefore issued that sweeping, watering, and lighting should at once be brought into play. To this no objection would have been taken had the order stopped there; unfortunately it is a virtuous vice of the French to love precision--a quality which the Egyptian appreciates only when applied to the attainment of grammatical purity in the use of the Arabic language, but which, being otherwise repugnant to his spirit, is not to be found in his native dialect or everyday speech or thought, and still less in more important matters.

Hence when the French, in obedience to their natural impulse, fixed times and methods and degrees for the sweepings and waterings and lightings they demanded from the people, and enforced the orders by the proclamation of pains and penalties to be inflicted upon defaulters, and, moreover, did all this without consulting anyone as to the native customs and recognised conventions applicable to such matters, there was much grumbling. Thus the lighting of the streets by night was ordered on a scale that made it a real grievance, for each and every house was commanded to hang out upon its outer wall not a banner but a lamp--a prodigality of illumination that the Cairene looked upon as utterly unprofitable. Very primitive were the lamps available in those days. In London itself ladies returning in their chairs at night from b.a.l.l.s and routs, and not improbably bemoaning the damage done to their attire by drippings from the spluttering candles of the ballroom they had left, were lighted on their way by linkmen carrying torches. And since even the Beau Brummels of those days had to put up with such primitive forerunners of the incandescent lights that to-day seem to us as indispensable for comfort, it is not surprising that the honest citizen of Cairo, when delayed from home until after dark, was content to be accompanied by a servant carrying a small, rudely made lamp set in a lantern of paper--a custom that survives to the present day in the harahs, or back streets of the native town, though now the lamps used are lit by Russian oil and sheltered from the wind in lanterns of Austrian gla.s.s. But when every reputable man who went through the town at night had his lantern-bearer with him there was not much need for the lighting of the streets in a more general way, and so the Cairenes had been satisfied to consider a street well lighted if it had a lamp hung out here and there at longer or shorter intervals to serve rather as a beacon than as a light. A lamp to every house was to them, therefore, an absurd extravagance, and when householders were further made responsible, under penalty of a fine, not only for the placing and lighting of the lamps, but also for seeing that they were kept alight throughout the night, this, to the French idea, most judicious measure became to the Cairenes a very real grievance and one that worried and annoyed all cla.s.ses.

To provide for the administration of the affairs of the town generally, and to act as an intermediary between the French and the people, a Dewan was const.i.tuted similar to that which had already been established at Alexandria. This consisted of ten Sheikhs, who appear to have been chosen princ.i.p.ally as being those most openly opposed to the Mamaluks. But on the urgent representations of the leading men, that the Turks or Mamaluks were the only men in the country accustomed to, or capable of, exercising efficient authority, Bonaparte very unwillingly appointed three or four Mamaluk officials who had remained in the town to different posts; and several Frenchmen were added, nominally to co-operate with, but in reality to control, the native members of the Dewan. Notwithstanding the a.s.surances thus given to the people, that it was the intention of the French to carry on the government with all respect to their religion and customs, the merchants and dealers showed some reluctance to reopening their shops and stores. When, however, the troops mixing freely with the people, as we have seen, and abstaining from the violence and injustice that it had always been the experience of the townsmen to receive at the hands of the followers of the Beys, confidence was restored, not only was the former trade of the town resumed, but shops, especially intended for the benefit and service of the French, were started.

Meanwhile, the expedition having been accompanied by a body of scientific experts, who had been instructed to prepare the most detailed and elaborate accounts of everything that could throw light upon the state of the country and its people, and the capacity of each for development, these men were set to work, each with a definite task to fulfil. Furnished with quarters in the deserted mansions of the fugitive Beys, they at once commenced the labours which were to give to the world the vast, though unhappily incomplete, description of Egypt, which is unquestionably the most marvellous work of the kind ever undertaken. Of these men it may be said that they represented all that is best and n.o.blest in the French nation and the higher aspirations of the revolution.

But however eager Bonaparte was to restore order in Cairo and to promote the scientific, commercial, and colonising objects of the expedition, his strongest desires and ambitions lay in another direction, and he began therefore to prepare for further action. That he might do this with the greater ease he resolved upon two steps, which tended not a little to diminish the contentment of the people with his rule. The first of these was a demand for money presented to the Dewan, which was instructed to collect the stipulated amount from the whole community, Christian and Jewish as well as Moslem. To this, though not without demur, the Dewan consented; but the announcement of the impost that was to be raised was to the people the betrayal of the cloven hoof, and although it was a measure they had been fearing, and which, had it been imposed upon them immediately after the arrival of the French in the city, would have been accepted as a natural exercise of the prerogative of a conqueror, was now looked upon as a breach of faith, and as such completely destroyed confidence in the fair words and promises of the French. The discontent and uneasiness thus occasioned gave birth to open and evident dismay and agitation when the second measure taken by Bonaparte was announced. From its first building, the town had been divided into harahs or quarters--districts separated from each other by the run of the streets, and by walls and gates. These gates it was the custom to close soon after sunset, and thereafter no one was allowed to pa.s.s from one quarter to another without the permission of the watchmen charged with the care of the gates. In thus dividing the town its founders had two main objects in view--one, by the separation of the inhabitants into a number of clearly defined groups, to be able to fix responsibility for crime on a particular group; and the other that, in the event of a mutiny or rebellion, the closing of the gates might serve to isolate the various groups from each other, and thus facilitate the work of the Government in dealing with them. Bonaparte, however, far from thinking the existence of the harahs as contributing to the maintenance of order, regarded them as affording dangerous shelter to malcontents, and resolved to abolish them. Parties of soldiers were therefore set to work to remove the gates. As soon as the people became aware of this the most alarming rumours were circulated, such as that this was being done to enable the French to carry out a wholesale ma.s.sacre of the people, either by night or when they should be a.s.sembled in the mosques for the special prayers of the Friday noon, which at that time it was the pride, as well as it still is the duty, of all Moslems to attend. So great was the alarm of the people at this idea that the newly opened shops were closed once more, and business, which had been growing as brisk as it was profitable, was again suspended; but nothing occurring to justify their fears, the alarm pa.s.sed, and the bazaars, that for the moment had been more or less deserted, again began to fill with life and animation.

As was but natural, the arrival of the French had from the first been hailed with delight by the Christian population. Under the Mamaluks these, whether native or foreign, had suffered from many disabilities, and, though rarely openly molested by the Moslems, were at all times subject to the insults and rudenesses of the lower cla.s.ses. Now, under the protection of the French, they threw off the restraints to which they had so long submitted, and excited the anger of the Moslems by appearing in public in the silk and gold-embroidered costumes that had been forbidden to them under the Mamaluks. Cafes, restaurants, and wine-shops were opened by the Greeks and others, and wine was sold and drunk in public, to the great indignation of the Ulema and all the better cla.s.s of the Moslems. These and other things, of little moment in themselves, became important factors in modifying the feelings of the people towards the French, by marking the change in the relative standing of the followers of the two religions, and by largely discounting the professions of friendship for the Moslem faith with which Bonaparte endeavoured to conciliate the goodwill of the Mahomedans.

Many other causes helped to keep the people from settling down quietly under the French. Among these was the constant searching of houses for arms or valuables belonging to the Mamaluks, and the arrest and imprisonment of those suspected or accused of concealing wealth or property of any kind on their behalf. One of those who suffered directly in this way was the wife of Radwan Kachef who had fled with Ibrahim Bey. This lady had paid a sum of one thousand three hundred dollars to the French as reconciliation money, in consideration of which she had been granted the right to remain in Cairo under French protection. A few days afterwards, a report having reached Bonaparte that her husband had left a quant.i.ty of arms and money in her care, a search was made, and some clothing, arms, and other things being found, all the women in the house were arrested and a fine of four thousand dollars imposed upon the lady as the condition of their release. Had the French been content to seize the arms no objection would have been taken to their action, but the fine was, in the eyes of all the people, a breach of faith.

If thus rigorous with the Mahomedan population, Bonaparte made it plain that he had no intention of unduly favouring the Christians. On the 2nd of August Nelson, having returned to Alexandria, had, in the famous battle of the Nile, destroyed the French fleet, and the army in Egypt was thus cut off from all communication with Europe and left entirely dependent upon itself. News of this event having been brought to Cairo, the Moslems were as elated as the French and Christians were depressed. Bonaparte at once inst.i.tuted a search for the persons who had first made the ill news known, and these proving to be two Syrian Christians and a Moslem, all three were condemned to have their tongues cut out or pay a heavy fine. This was in every way a foolish measure. It had the effect of checking the open discussion of reports unfavourable to the French, who, by adopting this ostrich-like policy, deprived themselves of the only method they had of gauging the tendency of public opinion, and, while they could not thus prevent the dissemination of news or rumours, gave the people a fresh and reasonable grievance, for under even the most tyrannical of the rulers they had previously known they had been allowed a liberty of speech that it was clear was now to be denied them, and the distrust of the fair words that Bonaparte was so lavish in offering them was still further increased. Nor did the punishment of the Christians impress the Mahomedans with any sense of the impartiality that Bonaparte intended it to convey, for it was regarded as nothing more than the wreaking of his anger, at the bad news received, upon those who, Christian or not, were, according to popular opinion, guiltless of any real offence. It was thus an act such as they were accustomed to expect from the Mamaluks, and, in the eyes of the Cairenes, placed the boasted justice and humanity of the French on the same level as those of the Beys.

As time went on almost every day brought some fresh incident to swell the stream of ill-feeling towards the French that Bonaparte, in his self-sufficient direction of affairs, was creating. Had he but acted with some little consideration for the wishes of the people, and consulted their prejudices, it is certain that the storm that was now rapidly approaching would never have arisen. But Bonaparte was never able to get beyond the nursery policy of cake or cane. There was no worse policy open to him. Neither with cake nor with cane was it possible to persuade or drive the Cairenes to adopt his views. By a ceaseless play of petty tyranny he was able to force from them an unwilling compliance with his demands, but every little victory thus gained served to widen the gulf between the two peoples, and thus to defeat that which any man of real ability would have seen was the aim that of all others it was the interest of the French to pursue--the conciliation of the Egyptians.

While thus blundering along, baffling his own desires, Bonaparte, always believing in his own tact and good judgment, decided to give his patronage to the annual ceremony of the Cutting of the Khalig, or ca.n.a.l, that from the time of the Pharaohs has been held in Cairo in celebration of the flooding of the Nile. In the old heathen days this had been essentially a festival of thanksgiving to the G.o.ds, but as the greatest and most popular feast of the year it had survived the conversion of the people to Christianity and Islam and was kept as a day of merry-making upon which the people gave unrestricted play to their tireless love of gaiety. But the Moslems were in no mood to join in revelry when Bonaparte summoned them to do so, and though the French have recorded the occasion as one of unbounded success the fact is that it was far otherwise.

It was the same with the celebration of the Molid, or birthday of the Prophet, that occurred soon after. This being in its first inception a religious feast, had, like the wakes and feasts of the saints of Christendom, long been accompanied by revelries and rejoicings of a most unsaintly character, and was, to the Moslem population of Cairo, the great event of the year, the pious celebrating it with prayer and praise and the zikrs--that would seem to be an Islamic adaptation of the ancient worship of the Israelites when they sang songs unto the Lord with timbrels and harps--while others less piously inclined spent the night in carousings and sports. But whether pious or otherwise the Moslems of Cairo had no desire to hold the feast of their Prophet under the auspices of the Christian invader, and the anniversary would have been allowed to pa.s.s unnoticed but that the Sheikh Sadat, the recognised head of the family of the descendants of the Prophet living in Egypt, fearing that Bonaparte would take the refusal to hold it in bad part, gave the order for its celebration, and invited the General and his Staff to be present.

So, wholly blind to the storm that was gathering, and flattering himself that what he deemed a wise combination of firmness and conciliation was gradually building up a strong tower of French influence in the country, Bonaparte went on from day to day holding out his cakes and cane temptingly or threateningly, much as a silly old woman dangles a gaudy trinket or calls for the bogie-man to coax or terrify a restless child. For the cakes the Egyptians had no appet.i.te whatever, and for the cane, since they could see no way to escape from its unwelcome favours, they were content to pray for an early deliverance from the French and all their abominations.

Some days after the celebration of the Molid, Bonaparte, having invited the leading Sheikhs to visit him, prepared for them what he probably thought would prove an agreeable surprise. Receiving his guests with the affability he generally displayed, he retired to an adjoining room, and presently returned with a number of tricolour sashes and c.o.c.kades. With a smile that was meant to be winning and gracious, he put one of these across the shoulder of the Sheikh el Sharkawi, the President of the Dewan. Flushing red with fury, the Sheikh flung the sash upon the ground. With hurried but soothing words the interpreter sought to explain that the sash was intended as a mark of honour--that it was one of those worn by the General himself--and added that by wearing it the Sheikh would gain increased respect from the army. "Yes," replied the Sheikhs, "but we should be dishonoured in the eyes of G.o.d and of our co-religionists!" Here was a sudden flood of mutiny indeed! The tricolour, emblem of all that was honourable, sacred, flung to the ground as though it were an unclean and unholy thing, not to mention the rough discourtesy to the General. What wonder if Bonaparte, as the histories tell us, was "furious" or "enraged"? Was it not exasperating to be taught in this rude manner that the everyday politeness and conciliating manner of these wretched Egyptian Sheikhs really had limits, and that there was a point beyond which they would not go? And the humiliation of having offered a favour only to have it rejected with scorn, and that by men whose very lives depended upon his forbearance! Poor Bonaparte! How many things there were in heaven and earth that were not dreamt of in his philosophy! And poor Sharkawi! Quick as was the ready-witted interpreter to interpose his well-meant explanation, I am well convinced that he was not quick enough to forestall the Sheikh's audible or inaudible cry for forgiveness for such hasty and unseemly anger. But, audible or inaudible, his cry was not to the General, but to the G.o.d to whom, as the Moslem believes, anger and hasty speech are abominations. The General, being restrained by no such considerations, and having, we may admit, much more reason to be enraged than the Sheikh, broke forth in an angry denunciation of the worthy President of the Dewan as one entirely unfitted for the high and honourable post he held, and had his wrath increased rather than soothed by the polite endeavours of the Sheikhs to pacify him, while at the same time begging him not to press the sashes upon them. At length he yielded so far as to withdraw the sashes, but continued to demand the wearing of the c.o.c.kade, believing, no doubt, like young Easy's nurse, that this, being such a little one, would be a more pardonable offence against outraged propriety. But the Sheikhs were as little willing to wear the c.o.c.kade as they were to put on the sash, reasonably arguing that it was not the size of the emblem but its meaning and purport that was objectionable. Finally, when the question had been discussed with much good sense and much folly on both sides, it was agreed that the Sheikhs should have some days' grace wherein to consider and decide the issue.

On the same day proclamation was made throughout the town to the effect that all the people were to put on the c.o.c.kade and wear it as a sign of submission and amity. A few only consented, but the opposition of the majority was so strong that later in the day the order was withdrawn, with the condition that all who should have any business with the French, or visited their houses or quarters, should don the despised decoration for the occasion. Here, then, the incident ended, but we must not wholly dismiss it without noticing that Gabarty and others of the Sheikhs, although they were not willing to wear the French colours, were quite clear in their opinion that doing so was no offence to Moslem law or sentiment. It was simply a silly fad of the French, without any real meaning or sense. Whence it is obvious that what is spoken of as progressive or enlightened thought in Islam has not altogether resulted from the influence of European or Christian civilisation, but is the natural product of the freedom of thought inherent in the teaching of the religion.

Learning nothing from the experience that would have taught an abler man the weakness and strength of his position, Bonaparte was thus gradually, though wholly unwittingly, driving the people to rebellion.

Misreading the pa.s.sive acceptance or mild protests with which his rapidly succeeding mandates were received, he kept on, from day to day, more hopelessly and more completely widening the gulf already yawning between the two peoples, and while daily outraging the Egyptians' conception of liberty and happiness, never ceased to talk of the benefits he was conferring upon them, or to wonder at their failure to appreciate all the charm and beauty of the changes he was so anxious to promote.

Under the Mamaluks the people had had but three grievances to complain of, and one of these, the destruction of commerce and trade, they only partly, if at all, attributed to the fault of their rulers. The other two were the excessive taxation to which they were subjected, and the acts of more or less wanton cruelty and oppression that cla.s.ses as well as individuals were liable to. Apart from these things, their lives were as free as they could desire. They worked or idled, came and went, and, in short, did all things as they listed under no greater restraint than that of the lenient opinion of their fellows, which even when most censorious, was still p.r.o.ne to the Moslem virtue of forgiveness. Little by little Bonaparte went on encroaching upon these liberties the people had always possessed and prized. Births, marriages, and deaths had to be recorded, and fees had to be paid to the recording officers. Those entering the town had to give an account of themselves, whence they came and why. Those who received visitors or strangers in their houses were responsible for them. Those who wished to travel or leave the town had to provide themselves with pa.s.sports. These and a host of other regulations that, to the French, seemed but natural and proper parts of the organisation of a State, were to the Egyptians intolerable outrages upon their personal liberty, and that nothing should be wanting to make these reforms unpopular, each was fitted with a fee of some sort, to be paid upon demand, with dire pains and penalties for all omissions or defaults of any kind.

It is difficult for the ordinary Englishman or European to form any intelligent or just conception of the feelings of irritation to which these measures gave rise, but those who have travelled in Russia and have there experienced something of the wrath its pa.s.sport regulations can arouse in the breast of a freeborn Briton, may perhaps be able to imagine how the imposition of such restrictions by a foreign conqueror in his own house would affect him. If he can do this the reader can form some slight idea of the feelings with which the Egyptians regarded the "reforms" they were forced to accept and asked to admire and applaud. But it was not their personal grievances that rankled most deeply in the hearts of the people, or most surely crushed all possibility of sympathy or friendship between them and their new rulers.

Among the incidents that most strongly affected the people was the execution of Sayed Mahomed Kerim, the man whom, as we have seen, Bonaparte had left as Governor at Alexandria. Accused by the French of corresponding with the Mamaluks, he was sent up to Cairo for such trial as he was to have, and was promptly sentenced to pay a heavy fine or, in default, to suffer death. That he was guilty of the offence appears certain, and according to all known laws of war, he was therefore guilty of a breach of parole and liable to death. But the offence that Sayed Kerim had committed was, in fact, nothing more than a technical one, since it consisted in his having offered to admit the Mamaluks to Alexandria while these, so far from being in a position to occupy that town, had abandoned all attempts to face the French. Bonaparte and his army were no doubt present in Egypt as conquerors, but the foe had not only been beaten but cowed, the people of the country had made the fullest submission, and it was an abuse of terms to pretend that there was the slightest pretext to justify the application of the laws of war. The option of a fine granted to Sayed Kerim shows indeed that Bonaparte recognised this fact, and at the same time proves his utter incapacity to gauge the sentiments of the people or realise their estimate of his actions. Moreover, according to the popular view, Sayed Kerim was guilty of no offence whatever, for his promise of fealty to the French was not made voluntarily, and therefore was not binding. Some looked upon his sentence as a proof that the French were afraid of the return of the Mamaluks, others held that the charge had been brought simply to provide the French with an excuse for the seizure of the Sayed's property. All their sympathies were therefore with the prisoner, and they were enhanced a thousandfold by the fact that he was a descendant of the Prophet. But Bonaparte, for all his fulsome speeches to the people, cared nothing for their wishes or desires, and it was in vain that the Ulema and all who could obtain a hearing pleaded for at least a mitigation of the sentence. Bonaparte would hear no reason. The full fine must be paid at once or the prisoner must die. But the Sayed was defiant. "Of what use," said he, "is it that I should pay the fine? If it is my destiny to die I must die, and no fine can save me, and if it is not my destiny to die, who can slay me?" So he died as one expects such a man to die, openly defying his foes, and Bonaparte had his head carried through the town, with written and verbal proclamation that such was the fate that awaited all who conspired against the French, little recking that the lesson he intended this gruesome performance to be was taken by the people in a very different manner to that which he desired, and so far from being a lesson of submission and obedience, was one of hatred and vengeance.

From the European point of view it is, of course, impossible to censure Bonaparte for his treatment of Sayed Kerim. In matters of this kind European civilisation was in those days very little better than the East. It is true that in England traitors' heads no longer provided the public with an interesting spectacle on Tower Hill, but "My Lord Tom Noddy," and the smart set of that day, highly appreciated the entertainment afforded by the hanging of miserable prisoners sentenced to death for petty thefts, or even for attempting to steal, and the bones of highwaymen still hung in chains on the heaths around London, startling unwary nightfarers with their unwelcome rattle.

So Bonaparte went blundering on. Failing entirely to grasp the position, and fancying that he was laying the foundations of that great Eastern Empire of which he dreamed, he was blindly ignorant of and indifferent to the one and only means whereby he could succeed, for if it had been possible for him to realise his dream it could only have been by gaining the adhesion of the Egyptians as his first step.

That he could have done this I do not believe, but it was absolutely the only possible road to success open to him, and it was the one that in the futile folly of his overweening confidence in himself and his methods he would not or could not adopt. He might have gone far on the road. Had he left the people at rest, had he respected in fact and deed as in words he professed to do, their prejudices and desires, had he gained as he might have gained the pa.s.sive if not active support of the Ulema--had he done these things, nothing but a greatly superior force could have dislodged him from Egypt. But these were the very things that he did not do. As we have seen, instead of giving the people the rest from tyranny and vexations for which they longed, he hara.s.sed them infinitely more than the worst of all the rulers that had preceded him. So with the Ulema, instead of seeking their friendship in the only way in which it was to be obtained, he mocked them with idle pretences of respect that were never justified by deeds, and, while loudly declaring his respect for Islam and its teaching, ignored both in the most offensive way, and thus not only offended the people, but completely barred himself from the support of the Ulema. So keeping his way with dogged will and unbroken faith in his own ability, he was blindly though surely swelling the tide of discontent fast rising around him, and soon to burst forth in stormy wrath.

CHAPTER X

THE BURSTING OF THE STORM

Looking back now we can see that as the month of September drew to a close the gathering of clouds betokening the growing storm was becoming more and more evident. But the French were altogether unconscious of anything being wrong. That the Egyptians were woefully wanting in grat.i.tude, and most strangely incapable of appreciating the benefits that were being showered upon them--this they saw plain enough. Nor were they blind to the fact that flaunt the tricolour as bravely as they would, the liberty, equality, and fraternity it symbolised were flouted by this people, whose whole history was a record of slavery and degradation. But they did not see that they themselves were hated and detested, that the cordiality with which for a time the people had fraternised with the soldiers had been but a pa.s.sing reaction, and that, sincere as it was for the moment, it could not continue.

The French in Cairo were then, as Europeans in the East almost always are, quite content to see the surface of the life around them. Of its hidden depths they knew nothing, and therefore judged the strangers amidst whom they were wholly by their own standards. It is but little better to-day. In Egypt, as in India, everything "native" is despised, not because it is native, nor yet that it is bad, but because it is not such as the critical European has been accustomed to, and is therefore not "good form." To stop and ask whether the native may not have good sense, and be acting with good reason in doing as he does, never occurs to the self-satisfied European. So, having the power to do so, we thrust our misbegotten "reforms" upon the people, scorn these for not appreciating our absurdities, and despise them for not applauding our follies. We talk of the Egyptian as backward, bigoted, and prejudiced. A falser charge could not be brought against any people. From highest to lowest, among the most "fanatical" as among the most lax and liberal, the Egyptian takes and adopts as his own whatever he finds good in the ways of other peoples. Nowhere is there a people of greater adaptability, nowhere a people more ready or more willing to accept innovations. Nor is there in all the East a people who has the same, or anything like the same, silly self-sufficiency as the typical Englishman in the East. Other Europeans are bad enough in this respect, but none fall near so low in the scale of common sense as does the Englishman.

But if the Egyptian is willing to accept innovations he is stubbornly insistent upon accepting them in his own manner. He is not willing to have them forced upon him, nor to accept those that clash with his cherished prejudices, nor those that do not commend themselves to him as beneficial, and he demands, further, that whatever change he is asked to adopt is made smoothly and without any abrupt or violent alteration of old-established custom or habit. All these conditions were violated day after day by the French. The reforms they introduced were opposed to all the traditions of the country. They disturbed the habits of the people, interrupted the current of their old-time routine, offended their prejudices, and were forced upon them suddenly and as peremptory mandates demanding immediate and unquestioning obedience. Had they been allowed to criticise and discuss each new proposal they might, being as fond as old Mr. Easy himself of arguing the question, have been won by patience and tact to accept most of them.

So as time went on, and the people had abundant scope for comparisons between French promises and French performances, they were not without reason in accusing them of the faithlessness that the Turks have stamped as their characteristic in the rhyming phrase, "Fransiz imansiz." Still, though daily finding fresh cause of grievance against the French, the people were outwardly submissive, and it did not occur to the French that their pacific att.i.tude could be otherwise than willing. So far, indeed, they were right--it was willing, but the cause of its being so was very different to that which the French a.s.sumed it to be, for it is clear that these believed that this willingness was due partly to the people's acceptance of their professions of friendship and partly to their inability to resist. But the submissiveness of the Egyptians had a very different origin. They knew that news of the arrival of the French had been despatched to Constantinople from Cairo almost as soon as it had been received there, and they were certain that the events that followed, the defeat of the Mamaluks and the seizure of Cairo by the French, had also been communicated to the Sultan, and they were therefore looking forward from day to day to the coming of a Turkish army, and never for a moment fancied that the French occupation would or could be other than a temporary one. These things were discussed freely and fully enough in the houses of the people, but the French, as we have seen, had deliberately closed the only door by which a knowledge of the real sentiments and feelings of the people could reach them. To speak of a French disaster or defeat was a punishable treason, and so the Cairenes, doing violence to their natural inclinations, held their tongues in public, only to talk the more and the more bitterly in their homes. Nor did the Egyptians look upon the Mamaluks as having been finally and decisively beaten. French troops had now been in pursuit of the fugitive Beys for some months, and though the French were careful to publish everything that could be made to redound to the glory and credit of their arms, they had not yet been able to record any success worthy of note or which was not discounted by the facts reaching the people from other sources. Nor had the severity with which Bonaparte had punished those who were convicted of circulating the news of the destruction of the French fleet failed to impress the Cairenes with the great importance they attached to that event, or to increase their hopes of the early and utter destruction of the French army. To the Egyptians, therefore, the ultimate disappearance of the French was only a question of time, and situated as they were it is not surprising that they bore the miseries the occupation was inflicting upon them with the outward semblance of content that so misled the French.

Towards the middle of September a Turkish eunuch arrived from Constantinople, and the people, believing that he was the bearer of letters from the Sultan, flocked in thousands after him as he pa.s.sed through the streets. Bonaparte happened just then to be in the town, whither he had gone to pay a visit to one of the leading Sheikhs, and returning came in sight of the crowd following the new arrival.