To our friends the historians this Mahomed Ali is a source of much perplexity. On the one hand, they find him achieving what by all the canons of probability should be deemed impossibilities, and setting up an empire rather by force of wily wits than of martial might, and by masterful force of will turning the whole current of Egyptian life and thought into new and unwelcomed channels. Were this all, what a hero they could make of this man! But alas! over and against these things the historians are compelled to place the means whereby they were accomplished, betrayed friendships, treachery, ruthless massacre, bloodshed and tyranny. No wonder his biographers seem always halting between the desire to laud his achievements and their perception of the need to censure his acts. Yet if we make allowances for all the circumstances of his position—the time in which he lived, the men he had to overcome, the fact that, once entered upon, the contest for supremacy was a contest without quarter, that he must eithertriumph or be crushed—we may comprehend that, utterly inexcusable and unpardonable as his offences appear to us, to him they may have seemed to be far otherwise. The worst of all his crimes—the massacre of the ill-fated Mamaluks—was unsurpassable in its baseness as an act of treachery, but viewed apart from that it was a mere bagatelle in crime compared with Bonaparte's massacre of the Jaffa prisoners. To Mahomed Ali the extermination of the Mamaluks was almost a matter of life and death to himself, and a winning move in the great game he and they were playing. These men have to die—it was thus, no doubt, he argued—in the field or elsewhere, for there can be no peace, no settled government in the country while they are at large; and since they must die, what matter how or when? Surely now, and all of them in one grand sacrifice to the cause of peace! Poor Mahomed Ali! he has long since learned a little better, and knows now that the end does not justify the means, and that such foul deeds as this, with all floggings, tortures, hangings, killings, massacres, and all kinds of inhumanities and abominations, are the price men have to pay when they attempt to govern a people with a lying policy, a hollow pretence of serving God and man, when in truth they are but seeking their own ends.
And yet there are authors and others who speak of the "Great" Mahomed Ali even as they do of the "Great" Bonaparte. "Great" they both were in the sense of occupying a great space in the history of their time and in that of having done much,principally evil, but "great" in the sense of noble, worthy of esteem or admiration! Like a miser greedy for gold but that he may hoard it, these men were avaricious of power solely from the lust for it; both attained it in high degree, and if to-day men are in any way better for their having done so they are so rather in spite than in virtue of their success. And withal they were men of mean ideals. Mahomed Ali was accustomed to boast that he was born in the same year as Bonaparte, apparently thinking this a matter for congratulation as if in some occult way he thereby partook of the glory of the Corsican. Unfortunately there were a million or two of other people born in the same year, "mostly fools," and these two were but the most eminent of that miserable majority, for what else were they but fools, strenuous fools wading through seas of blood, and trampling upon the hearts and souls of men, the one that he might end his days with the surges of St. Helena droning in his ears, the other that he might still more miserably sink into the living death of dotage? Fools indeed, sacrificing all that should attend old age and death for less than a wretched mess of pottage, bartering all the realities of life for the pursuit of a phantom they were never to grasp. Unlike Sam Weller, I cannot fix the date on which I first wore small clothes, but it was about that time that I first read the story of Bonaparte's boyhood, and I can still recall a tale told of his going about "with his stockings half down." It was thus, figuratively, if not literally, he went through life, his mental stockings and clothing generallyshiftlessly loose and out of order. "Clothed" indeed, but by no means "in his right mind," "clothed" and yet a wanderer among the tombs of false ideals and unholy aspirations.
Rather pitiable greatness this!
Yet Mahomed Ali did some good. Out of the chaos that existed as the legacy of the French occupation he produced order. It was his lawless self-seeking that opened the path whereby the Egyptians have had their future placed in their own hands. That was probably the very last thing he thought of doing—a thing, indeed, that he would have laughed to scorn if anybody had been so rash as to propose it to him. The Egyptians did not know that then, perhaps even now they only partly recognise it, but they did very fully recognise the fact that he had rid them of the rats that had been preying upon them for so long. For that they were not ungrateful, but their gratitude was that of Lazarus for the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table.
Mahomed Ali ruled in Egypt for forty-two years from that memorable day on which the people had called upon the foreigner to come and rule over them, even as the English, in 1688, had summoned William of Orange to do the same for them. But his election did not place him at once in full power. It was, in fact, nothing more than the opening of the portals admitting him to the upward path he was destined to tread, and the way beyond was still crowded with obstacles that might well have caused even a daring man to halt. Nor did the arrival of the Sultan'sfirman place him in a much stronger position, for it was not long before another firman arrived appointing him to the Governorship of Salonica, whither he was instructed to repair without delay. This he refused to do, and being again supported by the Ulema and the people, sent presents and such well-devised explanations to the Sultan that he received in return yet another firman confirming his appointment as Pacha. Thenceforward his progress was unchecked, culminating in 1841 by obtaining from the Sultan the firman granting him the hereditary government of Egypt which is still the foundation of the authority of his successors.
His power once fairly established, Mahomed Ali paid but little heed to the interests of the people, and, in spite of the tears and protests of all classes, proceeded to abolish private property in land. This done, he next, by means of government monopolies and exorbitant taxation, practically took possession of all the produce of the land. With the aid of European experts, he at the same time did much to benefit the country by the extension of irrigation, the introduction of new and profitable crops and better methods of cultivation. From the progress thus made the people gained little advantage. Under the Pacha's administration they grew steadily poorer and poorer, and, though they were freed from many of the evils and vexations that had burthened their lives in the days of the Mamaluks, they had still to suffer from some of the old wrongs, and had, in addition, to bear some new ones. One of the first of the steps taken by the Pacha for theconsolidation of his power had been the creation of an Egyptian army. Recruited by conscription, this was an innovation that excited universal indignation, increased by the fact that the army was based upon a European model. Almost the only benefit the reign of Mahomed Ali conferred upon the people was therefore the establishment of order. Under his vigorous rule men's lives and what little property was left to them were safer than they had been under either the Mamaluks or the French, and if the people had but little to enjoy they were, save for the exceptions I have named, allowed to enjoy it in their own way, and that to the Egyptian was a privilege that compensated him for much evil.
In 1848 Mahomed Ali, whose health had failed, fell into a state of dotage that rendered him quite incapable of attending to affairs, and his son Ibrahim Pacha was therefore placed in power, but dying two months later was succeeded by his nephew Abbass. The following year Mahomed Ali died, and was buried in the citadel of Cairo with gorgeous ceremony. But a few years before the eyes of all Europe had been watching his every move, now that the tragedy of his life was over, his death, as Talleyrand said, was "not an event, only a piece of news," but there were many, Europeans as well as natives, as we are told, who followed him to his last resting-place with deep regrets, and not a few who were moved to tears—a fact to be noted and remembered as in a large measure a key to the life-story of the man, for it shows that at bottom of all his sins and all his crimes the essential element of the man himself was good.The evil he had done was the outcome of false training and false teaching whence he derived false ideals and false ambitions, and with his vision thus disturbed, seeing all things distorted and out of just proportion, he naturally and inevitably erred from the paths of truth and justice by which real greatness is alone to be attained.
Cairo, the City of the Caliphs, beloved by tourists and artists, the home of a laughter and jest-loving people, is, to those who know its history, a city of ineffable sadness. Wherever one goes, in its crowded bazaars, through its lonely lanes, wherever one plants a foot or casts an eye, there is some sad recollection of the spot or of its vicinity to be recalled, but there are few, if any, overshadowed by a deeper pathos than that where the great Mahomed Ali lies in a dimly-lit corner of the great mosque built by himself, on the highest point of the citadel.
Abbass, the new ruler, was unlike his grandfather in many respects. Mahomed Ali, so far from being a bigot or fanatic, was lax in his views, an intense admirer of the civilisation of the West. Abbass has been praised for his tolerance by many writers, yet the fact is that it was but a part of his policy, and was in no way to be compared with the true tolerance of men like Ibrahim Bey, who so warmly protected and defended the Christians at the Mamaluk Dewan. He was, to some extent, both a bigot and a fanatic, adverse to the extension of European influence in the country and lacking in all the personal qualities that had enabled his grandfather to triumph over so many difficulties. Mahomed Ali, though hecould be generous and liberal, and was lavish in spending money on his army and for the accomplishment of his own projects and purposes, was grasping in his demands upon the people and as ruthless as the Mamaluks in all his dealings with them. Abbass cared little for the army, had no grand schemes to promote, and finding the revenue amply sufficient for the administrative wants of the country and his personal needs, the people profited greatly from the relaxed strain he placed upon their resources. The benefit they thus derived from his rule was increased by his abolishing the Government monopolies and by other measures that at once encouraged trade and gave the people generally a larger share in the profits to be derived from their labours and enterprise. The great stain on the life of this man was his addiction to vice—a failing for which he paid the extreme penalty of his life, being assassinated in his own palace by two of his minions.
Abbass was succeeded by Mahomed Ali's youngest son, Said. Brave, frank, friendly to all, tolerant and enlightened, the new ruler steered a middle course between that of his father and that of his nephew. Many improvements were introduced by him in the administration of the country. The land was returned to the people, trade and commerce were facilitated, and many of the worst abuses of the past abolished or restrained. Unfortunately for Egypt, the Pacha did not stop here. The introduction of railways and other public works that he undertook created a demand for funds that his lenient collection of the revenue was insufficient to meet, and he wasinduced to raise the first of the State loans that were so soon to reduce the country to practical bankruptcy. But the commencement of the Suez Canal, the laying of the railway between Alexandria and Cairo, the introduction of steamers on the Nile, the demand for Egyptian grain during the Crimean, and for Egyptian cotton during the American War, combined with the internal peace and the justice and benevolence that Said made the keynotes of his government, all combined to render his reign a period of prosperity and happiness for the people. The fellaheen enjoyed incomes such as they had never dreamed of, and their prosperity reacted upon the townsmen and commercial and other classes, and in Cairo and the country at large contentment was almost universal and complete.
Said died in 1863, and was succeeded by his nephew, the famous Ismail Pacha. Abbass at his death had left a surplus in the treasury. Said had not only exhausted this but built up a debt of several millions. Starting with this debt, Ismail, though possessed of a keener judgment than his predecessor, instead of seeking retrenchment, gave way to his natural disposition, and commenced an era of lavish expenditure that was the direct cause of all the troubles that were so soon to follow. As long as the American War lasted all went well, but when once more the cotton fields of the Southern States were open to the world, Egypt, like India, had to face the disastrous failure of the tide that had borne it such prosperity. From the possession of wealth that they had squandered in extravagant living andprofuse gifts to their wives and families, the fellaheen quickly fell back to a condition of poverty. Trade and commerce suffered equally heavily, and the Pacha and Government having to bear their share of the general depression, he sought to relieve his necessities by borrowing from the European markets. Had the money thus obtained been wisely employed, all might have gone well; but it was wasted in lavish and unprofitable expenditure, led to the appointment of the dual control by which France and England undertook to supervise the financial affairs of the country, and finally brought about the deposition of Ismail in favour of his son Tewfick, under whom the rebellion headed by Arabi broke out, bringing the English occupation that has lasted to the present day.
It was during the French occupation that the Egyptian ceased to be that which he had been for long centuries before. In the account I have given of that occupation, I have endeavoured to show what manner of man the Egyptian then was. From that day to the present he has been slowly, but surely, changing; but it was not until the evacuation of Fachoda, the last of the six great landmarks in the history of the modern Egyptian, had taken place that the development of the Egyptian character has taken the definite and clearly marked form it now possesses. That event we have now to consider, and having done so we shall be in a position to understand that which the Egyptian of to-day is and how he has become that which he is.
"Marchand is at Fachoda."
Day and night, night and day since the great fight at Omdurman the telegraph had been busy sending and receiving messages of all kinds: a wondrous medley of tidings, congratulations, lamentations, inquiries, hopes, fears, rejoicings; almost all the emotions that stir the hearts of men, going to and fro over the wires mingled with dry, official reports, prosaic details of army and commissariat work, and now and then the flowing periods of some war correspondent still at the front. But of all the telegrams that went down to the city of the Khedives in those days, there was none other that had a message to move, not only the people of the town and country, but those of the whole civilised world, such as that which went, not in simple English words, but wrapped in the mystery of an official code, as the confirmation of the rumour for the verification or contradiction of which all the news-reading, news-hearing world was anxiously waiting.
"Marchand is at Fachoda."
That was the purport, though not the words of the message, and never since the day on which the English troops had entered Cairo, just sixteen years before, had there been in the town or country anything like the excitement this intelligence induced. Everywhere, among all classes and nationalities, the words "Marchand" and "Fachoda" were on the lips of all.
It was natural enough that it should be so.
Over two years had passed away since news had been received in Cairo that a French expedition, under the command of a certain Captain Marchand, had started from Loango, on the West Coast of Africa, bound for the interior of the continent. Nothing was known as to the ultimate object or destination of this expedition, but as, from time to time, rumours of its progress reached the outer world, the suspicion that it was aiming at the Nile began to spread. When, therefore, the report that there were white men at Fachoda went down to Cairo, all Egypt jumped to the conclusion that these white men must be Marchand and his companions.
Only those in close touch with the life of the country at the time can form any idea of the intense eagerness with which the confirmation or contradiction of this rumour was awaited. That eagerness arose from the recognition of the fact that if Marchand were indeed at Fachoda, his presence there must inevitably bring France and England face to face for a struggle which, whether it should be carried on by force of arms or by might of words, must decide once for all which of the two Powerswas thereafter to be pre-eminent in Egypt. The reactionary party was jubilant. Now, at last, the French would have to assert their rights and privileges, defend their honour and justify their claims; and how could they do aught of these things otherwise than by maintaining the position the gallant Marchand had gained? And how could they maintain that position without driving the English out of Egypt? And if some of the party were less confident than others in their anticipations of the answer that France would give to these questions, they were not less hopeful of the coming early discomfiture of the hated English. So hopeful were they, indeed, that the veriest stranger might have picked them out in the streets by the joyous air they wore.
By the Englishmen in Egypt, as by those elsewhere, the news was received as news of the greatest gravity. It was impossible to ignore the fact that the position was one of the most serious nature, and one from the difficulties of which there was no possible escape except by war or a happy and scarcely to be hoped for combination of diplomatic skill and generous consideration on the part of each of the two rivals. For Marchand himself the greatest sympathy was felt. His presence at Fachoda was the practical realisation of a daring and almost hopeless ambition, proving that he possessed in the highest degree those lofty qualities of the best of his race, the courage, vigour, enterprise, that in spite of all obstacles have always kept alive among us something of a spirit of comradeship for our oft-time ally and oft-time foe. We laugh, now and then, freelyenough at our neighbour across the Channel, but we respect him all the same, for no one knows better—nor, indeed, so well as we—the sterling qualities of his race. And Marchand's feat was one that placed him in the foremost rank of men of fearless heart and daring action, and entitled him to a place beside our own Stanley as a dashing and heroic pioneer.
Gladly, however, as we should have seen Marchand reap the full fruit of his long, toilsome, and perilous journey, we could not, with justice to either Egypt or ourselves, yield it to him. Our aims were alike. His magnificent march through the unknown dangers of some of the wildest parts of Africa, the campaign we had just brought to a successful and triumphant conclusion, were alike efforts to win the same prize—the possession of the Egyptian Soudan. We could not both have it. We could not share it. It must go to either France or Egypt. One or the other must surrender the prize so nearly within its unquestioned grasp. We could only be generous to Marchand and France by being disloyal to Egypt and ourselves.
There is no need to repeat here the story of the negotiations that followed. That belongs, indeed, not to the story of Egypt, but to that of England or France; for Egypt by itself could no more have contended with France for the possession of the Soudan than it could have regained it without the aid of England. The question, therefore, was one between England and France; and, happily for all, the mutual goodwill of the two nations so tempered their discussion of the interests and claims involved,that war was averted and the French consented to withdraw from the Soudan. But the course of the negotiations was necessarily slow. It demanded little less than heroic fortitude on the part of the French Government to give a decision that it well knew could not fail to be extremely unpopular, and some weeks therefore elapsed before the decision could be announced and the order issued to Marchand for his retirement from Fachoda.
Meanwhile it was quite natural that to the amateur politicians of Egypt the problem should seem to be unsolvable save by an appeal to the sword. To the educated Egyptian especially this appeared the one possible solution. Unable to comprehend rivalry without enmity, or to see in an open opponent anything but a foe to be crushed at any cost, they never dreamed that England and France could both approach the subject in a conciliatory spirit, and it is a striking illustration of the attitude they took that they discussed the question solely and entirely as one between England and France. Scarcely anywhere was a word to be heard from the natives as to the claims of their own country, or the least recognition of the fact that it was Egyptian and not English interests that were at stake. The truth is that at the moment the only question in which the Egyptian took the smallest interest was the one whether England or France was in the future to control the destiny of the country. There was much talk of liberty, of independence, but it is doubtful if even the most sincere looked upon all this as anything more than a phase of the anti-English agitation.Assuredly there was not a man in the country who did not know and believe, however reluctant he might be to admit it, that Egypt had, and could have, no other future before it than one dominated by some foreign Power or Powers. That the independence they talked of, and that of which they were as unceasingly dreaming, were very different things no one more thoroughly recognised than they themselves. And though the "Patriot" politicians never said so, and probably never realised that it was so, the one real objection they had to the presence of the English in the country was the fact that they themselves were out of power and hopelessly incapable of attaining it so long as English influence should prevail. This was particularly the case of the so-called "Turkish" party, which was in much the same position as that of the Protestant Ascendancy party in Ireland after the Union. Unlike that party, however, they had one hope—that the rivalry of the European Powers might afford them an opportunity of regaining something, if not all, of their lost prestige and power; and, unlike that party, being bound by no ties of loyalty or blood to the Power that wounded their susceptibilities, or to the people of the country, they cared for nothing but the gratification of their own ambitions. Towards the English, therefore, their feeling was one of invincible hatred; towards Egypt and the Egyptians of utter indifference; towards France one of hopefulness, such as the Irish insurgents had turned towards the same country while yet Bonaparte was on his way to Alexandria. Fachoda was consequently to thesewhat Killala had been to the Irish, and Marchand another Humbert. The parallel is completed by the entire lack of support the two daring adventurers met with, and by the absolute frustration of all their hopes. It is a curious coincidence that of the two events thus compared, the former, which cannot now be regarded as anything but the knell of French influence in Egypt, should find its parallel in an event taking place in the very year and month in which Bonaparte had struck the first blow in favour of French ascendancy in the land of the Pharaohs. Had the members of the anti-English party been skilled in history, the parallel might have seemed to them an omen of disaster. As it was they had but the single fact of Marchand's presence at Fachoda to consider, and most earnestly they prayed that it might prove the downfall of English influence in Egypt.
How, apart from the classes I have spoken of, the great body of the people thought was not so evident, but it is none the less certain. This vast, patient mass of humanity had for years been hearing, and was still daily hearing, that the English had no other object and no other ambition in Egypt than that of self-aggrandisement. They were taught by the Press, the Pachas, and the Ulema that they were being despoiled and downtrodden by the hated feringhee, but if they listened silently and apparently approvingly, they could not but feel that it was not so. Of what the English were doing or not doing they really knew almost nothing. Everything that was done was done in the name of the Khedive.When it was good, he, and he alone, got the credit; when it was bad, or such as they could be persuaded to believe was bad, it was invariably attributed to the "tyranny" of Lord Cromer and the "malice" of the English. All that the peasantry and the people generally knew for certain was that on the whole they were satisfied with things as they were. The English might be ruining the country and enslaving the people, but each man felt and knew that whatever they were doing, he himself, the individual, was personally better off than he had ever been before. Almost all the evils that had most oppressed him, the corvée, the korbag, the endless fear of the tax-collector, of the officials of all grades, and the perpetual uncertainty as to what new trials another day might bring him—all these and other evils had either disappeared or had been mitigated in a degree, of which he was fully conscious. He could not understand it, and felt indeed as the man who fell among thieves must have felt towards the Good Samaritan. The one he had been taught to despise and revile as an incarnation of evil had come to him as a benefactor. And against the solid and invaluable advantages that the people were conscious of there was no set-off save their rooted aversion to non-Moslem control, while this again was counterbalanced by the fear that any further change might, and most probably would, be a change for the worse. But ages of oppression have engrafted upon these people a habit of the utmost reticence in the expression of their thoughts—a reticence so deep, so perfect, that noman among them ever wholly unburthens his soul to another, not to his nearest kin, much less to a stranger. Whatever thoughts they uttered were consequently but the echoes of those which, so far as they could judge, were most likely to keep them in favour with those immediately around and above them. It is not surprising, therefore, that the English in Egypt could learn nothing of their real thoughts or that they regarded the people as ungrateful and unappreciative. But if, of necessity, the English failed, as in the East they ever do fail, to understand the people, those who were working in the districts in close daily touch with them could see by incontestable and constantly growing signs that they were developing an absolute confidence in the Englishman's love of justice and in the reality of his desire to benefit the people, and clear-minded Anglo-Egyptians were beginning to see, as the wisest Anglo-Indians have long since seen in India, that these two characteristics are the battalions that best buttress the might of England in the East, for from Cairo to Calcutta the peoples sum up what they regard as the typical Englishman almost in the words of the Eton boy—"He is a beast, but he is a just beast."
Nor was it only among the peasantry and those classes of the people who derived most benefit from the presence of the English that this feeling prevailed. Of all classes in the country the "effendis," the small officials, were those who gained the least and suffered the most from the English occupation. From petty tyrants they had been degradedto mere quill-drivers. Their service no longer opened to them vistas of possible elevation to high places, no longer brought them the servile submission they had in the old days been able to extort from the people in general. They could no longer, more or less openly, enhance their incomes by selling their favour or by other means that had formerly made their posts valuable, nor could they practise or benefit from the nepotism and favouritism that had been their prerogative. They, of all classes, had in the past been the least prejudicially affected by the rise or fall of Governments or rulers, and suffered least of all from the tyranny and cruelty that wrecked the lives of others, and they, of all, gained almost absolutely nothing from the benefits that under the English were already enriching the classes above and below them. But of all classes of the people probably none has been more misunderstood or more misjudged than this. Amidst all that has been written of Egypt and its peoples nowhere do we once find a suggestion that this class has ever been anything but a greedy, grasping, servile pack of bribe-seeking, torture-using, petty tyrants. That such a description was too often and too generally a just one cannot be denied, but we must remember the circumstances in which these men were placed. For the most part younger and more or less penniless sons of fathers too poor or too uninfluential to give them a fair position, they were invariably crippled at their start in life by want of money and their complete dependence upon the favour of their immediate superiors.The first lesson taught them in their new career was to bend to theesprit de corpswhich ruled the official life of those days, that is to say, to recognise the value of their positions as these were seen and valued by their fellows, to look upon the superior officials as patterns to be followed and imitated without question in all things. What wonder if the young official bowed to the inevitable, and learning as his second lesson that taught by Iago, "Put money in thy purse," and knowing that resistance or remonstrance could only result in his being thrown aside and plunged in want and misery, yielded, whatever protests his better nature may have been inclined to make, and so became such as he has so often been painted? And as time went on, with every step he made onward in his official career he was plunged deeper and deeper in the mire of the necessity that swamped every good or honest aspiration he might have had, for as he progressed step by step so the claims upon his purse rose steadily and the demands upon his services increased. It was then, and still is, the custom of the impecunious Egyptian to settle himself as a dependent upon some of his well-to-do relations, and thus the rising official had, in general, not only his own family to support but a troop of indigent relatives of his own and of his wife or wives' families; and thus as he advanced, if his increased influence enabled him to gain a larger income from bribes and commissions, it doubled and redoubled his expenses and compelled him, in his turn, to pay larger bribes. What result could sucha system bring about other than the corruption of the whole service? Yet, atrocious as were the consequences, those who have criticised this class have been unjust to them. It has invariably been forgotten that the abominable corruption that existed in Egypt up to the purification of the Government services by the English was not only not of necessity the result of the true character of the people, but that it might have existed in absolute opposition to that character. None the less, I am convinced that this is the truth, and that the fact that it is so has been one of the most potent influences in facilitating the work of reform that has been and is being accomplished, for as soon as this much-abused class had discovered that under English control they might look for a fair wage according to their rank, feel secure in the possession of their pay, and free from the exactions and oppressions of their superiors, they began to settle down contentedly under the new conditions, and accepted it as a gain that they were no longer subject to the old necessity for acquiring wealth as rapidly as possible that they might satisfy the greed of those above by despoiling those beneath them. This release from the never-ceasing cares and worries that were inseparable from the old system was perhaps the one direction in which the small officials felt themselves benefited by the English occupation. In the main, therefore, they were content with their lot, and had no desire for any change. The continuance of the occupation would ensure them practically all the conditions that madelife most enjoyable to them and gave them all the liberty they cared for, and they could look for no improvement as a likely or even possible result of any alteration. They knew, too, how perfectly futile it was to hope that Egypt would ever be able to free herself from European or Christian interference, and though they, not less earnestly nor less sincerely than any of their countrymen, deplored the fact, they had the sense to see that whether that interference was exercised through a visible occupation of the country, or simply through diplomatic channels, the eventual result must be the same, so far as Moslem or Egyptian independence was concerned.
Among the European colonists the presence of Marchand at Fachoda produced a ferment compared to which the deep but publicly restrained excitement of the Egyptians was indifference. With the single exception of the Greeks, their sympathies were wholly anti-English, so much so indeed that it might be said that among them the chief gauge of a man's patriotism was the measure of his professed hatred to England and everything English. But, as with the Egyptians, the individuals of each race were, perhaps as often as not, moved rather by self-interest and the Pickwickian desire to shout with the crowd that is a characteristic of the Latin races, than by any real hostility, and thus, though apparently solidly united in their enmity to England, they, like the Egyptians, were in reality divided into two camps, the one prepared to welcome almost any change and the other quite content with the occupation.
It was not, therefore, until Marchand had actually abandoned Fachoda that the public regained its normal tranquillity. In the interval he had passed through Cairo on his way to Paris, but though, as was but just, he had a cordial reception, there was no demonstration of public feeling. It was then an almost foregone conclusion that the French Government would withdraw whatever claim it could have made, yet even when Marchand had returned to the Soudan to put the final stamp of failure on his brilliant success by hauling down the flag it had cost such heroism to hoist, even then there were in Egypt some who were still hopeful that, in spite of all, the wheel of fate might yet take another turn. Fortunately the decision that the French should withdraw by pushing on to the Red Sea avoided all risk of further incident, and so with the news of the departure of the expedition from Fachoda the last hope of the anti-English party left it and the public, Egyptian and European, quietly and silently accepted the event as the seal of British supremacy in Egypt.
Thus once more the irony of fate made sport of the strenuous efforts of England's foes, and rendered their hostility contributory to her strength. All that it could do to hamper and hinder the reconquest of the Soudan had been done by the anti-English party with no greater result than to strengthen, if not altogether to establish, England's claim to an absolute share in the possession of the country. So Marchand struggled onward on his magnificent march and succeeded in his daring ambition toplant the tricolour on the banks of the Nile only, in the end, to give English influence and authority in Egypt the unchallenged supremacy England had not sought and that it had been his chief aim to render for ever unattainable by her.
It is scarcely possible to overrate the service that it was thus the destiny of the gallant captain so unintentionally to confer on England and Egypt alike. From the commencement of the occupation down to his departure from Fachoda, the most powerful influence for evil in Egypt was the uncertainty that hung around the position of the English in the country. With his retirement that uncertainty came to an end. Thenceforth the people knew that they had to deal with England and with England only, and the effect was immediate. Everywhere and in all things the English were accepted as the masters, not only for the day but for the future. That they should now evacuate the country was a proposition at which the Egyptians and colonists alike scoffed, and both alike abandoned as futile whatever hopes they may have had for the realisation of some other solution of the problem. From that day English influence continued to grow steadily, and almost all the difficulties that had restricted the efficiency of the Anglo-Egyptian administration steadily diminished. The Government of the country ceased to be a house divided against itself, and the endless friction that for many years had persistently hindered the efforts of Lord Cromer and his colleagues for the advancement of the country's interests was at an end.
That which of all things had been most needed to facilitate the regeneration of the country that England had undertaken had been the appreciative co-operation of the people. The vast benefits the occupation had conferred and the reconquest of the Soudan had been all insufficient to gain this co-operation, and had it not been for the Fachoda incident forcing a solution of the problem of English supremacy in Egypt it would still be lacking. As it is, however defective the assistance now accorded may be, its deficiencies are due to causes not arising from either hostility to English influence or the fear of its cessation.
From the landing of Bonaparte in July, 1798, down to the departure of the French expedition from Fachoda in December, 1898, just five months more than a century later, no single occurrence in the history of the country has had such deep and, as it will assuredly prove, lasting influence as this latter, for it wrought in a day what all the might of England and the devoted labours of the English in Egypt could never have accomplished. The English occupation is and will for ever remain the chief landmark in the story of modern Egypt. The happy conclusion of the Fachoda incident was not only its ratification as such but the birthday of a new era. Since that day the Egyptians have had new hopes and ambitions. All their aspirations have been turned into new channels. No longer harassed by hesitating doubts as to which of two courses it were wiser for them to take, they now enjoy a degree of political and socialliberty such as was never before within their reach, for, no longer dependent upon the uncertain favour of despotic masters, the Egyptian of to-day is as free to pursue his individual course as any native of the freest countries of the world. As, therefore, the landing of Bonaparte in 1798 was the early dawn of the new era in the history of the people, the evacuation of Fachoda has been its sunburst.
Though the outline I have given of the history of Egypt under Mahomed Ali and his successors has been of the briefest, it is sufficient for the purpose of this volume. It would no doubt be a study of great interest to see in some detail how the varying characters and actions of their rulers and the events these gave rise to affected the people, but the effects thus produced have proved for the most part of a purely temporary nature, and have been of such conflicting characters that without a very elaborate study it would be well-nigh impossible to trace their influence upon the Egyptian of to-day. Fortunately for my reader's patience, what we have to do with is the influences that, broad and general in their results, have also been lasting and are therefore still in operation, and just as we may appreciate the force and volume of the mighty Mississippi without studying, as Mark Twain and his brother pilots had need to do, its ever-varying currents and eddies, its snags and snarls, so we may learn the strength and tendency of Egyptian opinion without stopping toanalyse all the incidents that have helped or hindered its development.
As I have said in my last chapter, the full development of the Egyptian character dates only from the evacuation of Fachoda. As yet, indeed, the people have taken nothing more than the very first steps towards the adoption of a definite and clearly shaped policy such as can alone give them a truly national and distinctive character. During the whole of the past century, beaten hither and thither by fluctuating influences and impulses, the constant uncertainty that overhung their future reacted upon their thoughts and rendered these as unstable as the events by which they were stirred, but since the commencement of the English occupation influences have been at work with steadily growing effect consolidating and directing the thoughts and aspirations of the whole body of the people and gradually creating a true public opinion such as has never before existed. These influences have been but three in number—the increased acquaintance of the people with European civilisation, their increased knowledge of the social and political condition of the Mahomedan countries of the world, and the development of the Arabic Press.
Except in so far as it has contributed to the strengthening and enlarging of these influences through the facilities it has afforded for their operation, the English administration of the country has had but little effect upon its political or mental development as a nation, although upon the personal character of the people, that is to say upon thepeople as individuals, it has had a much greater and stronger effect than either the English or the Egyptians realise. The young Egyptian who has grown up under English rule is of altogether a different type to that which his father was. Whether of the highest or of the lowest rank, he has a conception of his personal rights and responsibilities that places him socially and politically upon a totally different plane to that of his elders. The general effect thus produced is that he is more self-reliant, more independent, and less willing to submit to restraint of any kind than was his father. That this change is the source of some evil is as certain as natural, but that on the whole it is a change for the better, and one tending to the elevation of the people, is equally certain. Eventually it must have a powerful influence upon the political feeling of the country. As yet those who are most strongly affected by it are for the most part too young to have any very definite or influential place in the political affairs of the country, but they are gradually swelling the ranks of the journalists, and in but a few years will be the men in whose hands will be gathered most of the strings by which the people at large are likely to be most strongly moved. Of all the tasks, therefore, that the Government of the country and those responsible for it are called upon to perform, if they would ensure the future stability of the present prosperity and the real welfare of the people, there is none more important than that of endeavouring by every legitimate and possible means to guide the development of this change into healthy and vigorous directions.
Joined with that loyalty to Islam and the Turkish Empire I have shown to be dominant forces in the country, the three influences I have just described are those which are to-day, and must be for long to come, the real controlling influences in the political and social growth of the Egyptians. It is conceivable, of course, that events might possibly arise to divert, nullify, or even destroy the effects of one or more of these influences; but this is a contingency so remote and so little likely to occur that it is needless to discuss it here. It will be well, however, for us to see a little more of the nature and effect of these influences as they actually exist.
That these influences have been healthy will have been gathered from what I have already said of them, but it is necessary to show in what way and how far they have been so. First, then, let us see what has been the effect of the increased acquaintance of the people with European civilisation. Omitting all consideration of such minor effects as the adoption of changes in dress, in the furnishing of their houses and other details of their daily life, the effect that is most potent for good is one that goes much deeper and further than such merely superficial matters as these. This effect is the constantly increasing desire for the improvement of the social and political conditions that prevail. Keenly awakened to a sense of the deficiencies from which they have suffered in the past, the people are more and more being influenced by the wish and the will for self-improvement. As yet,however, their views are but vague and indefinite, and lie rather in the direction of ambitious dreams than of purpose-giving aspirations. But though they are eager, rather than emulous, to be regarded as the intellectual equals of the European peoples, it is certain that this desire is at least one of the most powerful of the impulses by which the life of the nation is being stirred.
As we have seen, Mahomed Ali, though a Moslem and a native of Turkey, was essentially a European. His knowledge of and sympathy with Islamic ideals were of the slightest. Familiar as he necessarily was with Oriental thought and life, the Egyptian and Arab were to him more alien than the Western Europeans. Hence his love of European society, his passion for innovation on European lines, and his frequent sacrifice of Mahomedan sentiment to European utilitarianism. All that was best in the man was strikingly European in type and character, all that was bad was eminently Oriental. Had he had such advantages of early education and such surroundings as Bonaparte had had, he would in all probability, nay, certainly, have proved a really great man, a man of high ambitions and great if not glorious achievements. As it was, hampered by the want of the most elementary education, cramped in aspiration by the narrowness of his experience, and with a mind vitiated by the false ideals of those amidst whom he was reared and lived and by the evils of the only political system he had any knowledge of, it is not surprising that his rapid rise quickly broughthim to a point at which he became the victim rather than the ruler of affairs. His personal influence with the people was but small, for the popularity that led them to choose him as their Governor did not long stand the strains he placed upon it, and in carrying out his schemes for the Europeanising of the country he met with more opposition than approval and failed to awaken any desire for the change he was so anxious to bring about. He succeeded, indeed, in rendering the people more familiar with European thought and ideals than they had been, and thus set in motion the current of thought that is to-day leading the Egyptian to look to the West for his standard of social and political life. As we have seen, the people had been quite ready and willing to adopt all that they found good in the methods of the French, and now that Frenchmen and other Europeans came amongst them, not as conquerors and dictators, but as the guests and friends of a Moslem Governor, they were much more willing to hear their views and profit from their advice and instruction. The good results that might have sprung from this cause were, however, very largely barred by the spirit of opposition created by Mahomed Ali's attempts to force the adoption of unwelcome innovations. It was therefore rather in spite, than in consequence of his European tendencies that during his reign the Egyptians began to have a clearer conception of and more friendly feelings towards European civilisation as a whole. Under the French, with all the faults of their administration,a conviction had spread in favour of the advantages of a regularly constituted and properly organised government, and with this had also come the recognition of the principle that it should be the aim of a government to protect the interests of the people, and that it was for the good of all that the various classes should be treated with equity. These are things taught indeed as part of the law of Islam, but they were parts of that law of which the people had had no practical experience, and the discovery they had thus made that Christian nations and peoples could and did hold out as ideals, and still more, to a certain extent bring into actual practice the teachings of the Moslem faith, awakened in them a new interest in the civilisation to which they had so long felt the most irreconcilable hostility. It was under the French that these thoughts first began to impress the people. Under Mahomed Ali they were extended and grew more familiar, but still, hindered and checked by the unfavourable conditions that encompassed them, they made but little substantial progress. Yet, in defiance of all difficulties, they took solid root, and when later on, under the successors of Mahomed Ali, they were presented under a more favourable aspect, they began to sway even the classes that had at first most strenuously opposed them.
The steady growth of the desire for reform that has thus gone on from the time of the French invasion, has been almost entirely spontaneous. It has sprung, as I have said, from the increasedacquaintance of the people with European ideals brought about by the presence of Europeans in their country, but this presence, which has been the chief cause of the progress made, has at the same time been the greatest obstacle in the way of that progress. To the present day this is so. All that is reactionary in the spirit of the country to-day is almost wholly and directly due to the presence of Europeans in it, and the consequences entailed by that presence. Again and again have I heard some enthusiastic advocate of progress and reform silenced and put to shame by some quietly made allusion to some of the evils nurtured by the European Consulates, or some of the anti-Islamic laxities, the presence of Europeans, and the political influence they possess, force upon the people. This is indeed the great hindrance to progress, the drag that stops the Egyptian from advancing as he might and could. Yet, in spite of all difficulties, that which is really good in the intercourse of the two peoples is bearing fruit. Of necessity the first produce of the new feelings, thoughts, and aspirations, stirring to activity the long latent abilities of the people, has been little more than a few weak saplings of progress, too frail and immature to send forth aught more than a few fragile blossoms; but the crop is thriving, and though as yet rich in neither quality nor quantity, it is the fair promise of a sound, healthy, and abundant harvest to come. It was not until the first half of the nineteenth century had passed that the appreciation of European civilisation became at allgeneral; it is to-day almost universal. Nor is it less powerful for good that it appeals to various classes with varying aspects. To many it is no doubt nothing more than an appreciation of the physical advantages offered to the individual by railways, electric tramways, telegraphs, and telephones, and the hundreds of other minor inventions that add to the pleasure or tend to the comfort or convenience of life; to others it is the higher side of civilisation, its intellectual and social advantages that appeal most forcibly, but these are at the same time appalled and repelled by its evils, and thus the very men that it is most desirable should be most strongly influenced are held back from accepting much that they would otherwise welcome. And these men, while always candid and open in their intercourse with Europeans in the expression of their sense of the merits of European civilisation, and of the backward condition of their own countrymen, are withheld, by their fear of appearing discourteous or offensive, from even hinting at their perception of its evils. Thus, left in ignorance of one of the chief reasons why the Egyptian does not more enthusiastically adopt and practise that which he so freely commends, Europeans are wrongly led to believe that the appreciation he expresses is not sincere. It is not so. He thoroughly comprehends the advantages he commends, but at the same time he sees clearly enough, what most strangely the European seems incapable of perceiving, that the unrestricted adoption of Western standards could not fail to set loose aflood of evils far outweighing all the benefits it could confer. Hence at the present day the problem that of all others attracts discussion in native circles in Egypt is, How may we secure the benefits, without incurring the evils of European civilisation?
This, then, is the net result of a century of almost daily increasing acquaintance with the people of Europe and the civilisation of which they boast. It is a problem that many earnest men are studying in various parts of the Mahomedan world, and which is tending to solve itself by slow but yet perceptible steps. In Egypt the most hopeful feature of the difficulty to be faced is, that no one appreciates the need of reform more than, or indeed as much as, the Egyptian himself. Fortunately he is by no means inclined to accept too hastily the often ill-considered advice Europeans are prone to give him, for he can see, as they cannot, the real difficulties to be overcome. Rightly comprehended, then, the very slowness of the progress being made, so far from being discouraging or to the discredit of the Egyptians is quite otherwise, for it shows that the advance being made is sure and well-grounded, and not a mere passing impulse, and it is a guarantee that all further progress will be well-considered and deliberate, and will thus be certain of producing more enduring benefit than any hastily adopted reforms, however brilliant their first effects might seem to be, would be likely to secure.
Directly connected with the healthy influencewhich is thus at work in Egypt and other parts of the East is another of a very different character in some respects, but tending in exactly the same direction—the elevation of the moral, social, and political standards of the peoples affected by it. It is, however, of much more recent origin, for it was not until after the English occupation that the Egyptians, profiting from their increased intercourse with Europeans, and the development of the native Press, of which they are such avid readers, began to give attention to the condition of Islam outside the narrow limits of the Ottoman Empire. To the present day the fellaheen indeed are indisposed to credit the fact that a majority of the Moslems of to-day are not only not subjects of the Turkish Sultan but do not speak either the Arabic or Turkish language. Naturally the English occupation turned the attention of the more enlightened classes to the question of England's relations with her Mahomedan subjects in India and elsewhere. Their conception of those relations were at first drawn from uncertain and most unreliable sources, and were scarcely less accurate than unfavourable. Thanks mainly and directly to the honesty of theMoayyad, the leading Mahomedan journal of the country, the ignorance that formerly existed has largely disappeared, and the news-reading public are now able to follow the progress of events in India and other Moslem lands with a fair knowledge of the circumstances affecting them.
The interest thus excited in the affairs of their brother Mahomedans in other lands is steadilyincreasing, and this has led the Arabic journals to pay special attention to all that appears in the European Press with reference to any matter in which Moslems are concerned. The outcome of this is clearly marked. The Egyptians no longer regard their country as they did a few years ago, as an isolated unit, but see it as part of a great whole of which it is its right and privilege to be the head. And with this increased knowledge of the Islamic world has grown side by side an increased knowledge of the condition of the European nations and more particularly of the Great Powers. Throughout Islam it is now recognised that if these Powers are no longer inclined to enter upon crusades against the Moslem states it is not from any enlarged tolerance for Islam nor from any peace-decreeing doctrines of Christianity or civilisation, but because they are restrained by the political conditions controlling their relations with each other. This is a matter on which it is no use saying smooth things that have no basis of actual fact. There is not a single Mahomedan in any part of the world who believes any of the many protestations of friendship for Islam made by nations or peoples or governments. That these professions are genuine enough for the moment, that they are not based upon either falsehood or dishonesty of intention is not asserted. Under existing conditions they are honest and true enough, but they depend wholly upon the continuance of those conditions. Side by side with the growth of this knowledge and the diffusion of the ideas to which it gives rise, therehas been a similar increase in the knowledge that the various Moslem peoples have of each other and a growing perception of the causes that have led to the decadence of Islam. Of these latter, as every student of history knows, the two principal have been disunion among the Mahomedan peoples and the stagnation of social and intellectual progress that followed the overthrow of the political power of Islam. The recognition of these facts by the Moslems themselves has pointed them directly to the obvious remedy—the reunion of Islam and the development of the social and intellectual capacities of its peoples. Hence the rise of that Pan-Islamism which has of late been so much discussed and is as yet so completely misunderstood in Europe and by Europeans living in the East.
The journalism of to-day is a very different thing to that of the past. Its writers are for the most part young men of the day essentially out of touch with the days of their fathers. Whence we find them presenting to us as novelties ideas that were familiar to all newspaper readers of the last generation and asking us to solve problems that we had thought buried with our grandfathers. But in the modern craze for rush and hurry and inefficiency the public have no time to stop to inquire the history of the topics brought before them. To some extent conscious of this defect in themselves and others, the modern journalist turns to the first comer who can show any pretence of special knowledge on any subject of the day and, accepting him at his own valuation, takes him as an expert and builds uphis own theories and speculations on his authority. Thus the Cook-conducted tourist who rushes through Egypt and the East without ever exchanging a word with any native, save perhaps Cook's dragoman or donkey-boy, is invited to give his ideas on the "Egyptian Question" and so forth, and in doing so very often quotes as an authority some European who has been living in the country for heaven only knows how many years, and who, if the truth were known, knows scarcely less of the people than the tourist himself, since all that he has gained by his years of residence has been the accumulation of a number of prejudices which are to him the explanation of all things touching the past, present, or future of the land and its peoples. If the blind thus lead the blind whither can their progress tend? As an answer look at the recent comments upon Pan-Islamism in the European Press. Journals that years ago spoke of Pan-Islamism as an idea full of lofty promise for the future, not of Islam only but of the world, have taken it up as a new subject, treated it as a new movement, and hastened to point out that it is a menace to civilisation. Some thirty years have passed since Lord Beaconsfield, speaking as the Minister for Foreign Affairs at the Guildhall dinner in London, drew a brilliant picture of the effects that might spring from the regeneration of Islam under the protection and with the aid of England. His speech created a world-wide interest, but, as I pointed out in theBombay Gazetteof the time, I had previously drawn attention to the same idea, and I was thus one of the first, if not the veryfirst, to discuss the subject in an English newspaper. In India and in England, after filling the public mind for a brief space of time, the subject was dropped and the truly Imperial views of Lord Beaconsfield were relegated to a pigeon-hole in the Foreign Office, where, if the rats have not yet devoured them, they are probably still lying. But if England thus neglected the idea that as theGlobe, if I am not betrayed by memory, described as the offspring of a "stupendous intellect," it was not so with the statesmen of other countries, and from that day to this more than one of the Foreign Offices of Europe has not lost sight of the subject, needless to say, not with any intention of promoting the views of Lord Beaconsfield. Nor among Moslem peoples has the subject ever been dropped. The yearly increasing facility of travelling in the East and the growth of the Arabic and Indian Mahomedan Press, have naturally tended to help forward the efforts of the more enlightened Moslems in various lands who were first stirred to movement by the discussion in the European Press, and to-day wherever Islam exists there is a Pan-Islamic party, generally small, but always having as its leaders the most enlightened and most advanced men. Under the guidance of these men Pan-Islamism is essentially a defensive and not an aggressive movement—one for the elevation of the people, and therefore an intellectual and peace-promoting and not a military or war-provoking one. That a few of the most ignorant of the people should attach some hazy idea of Moslem conquest to their conception of Pan-Islamism is but natural, butto assume that because their vague, ill-formed, and wholly undigested thoughts now and then find expression in the columns of irresponsible journals, run for the most part by men of no position, education, or influence, these are to be taken as the true exponents of Moslem thought is absurd. Instead of being a danger to Europe or civilisation Pan-Islamism is a movement that should have the support of every lover of peace and civilisation, and the fact that it is making progress in Egypt is but a proof that the Egyptians have awakened to a sense of the only way in which the best and truest interests of their country and their religion can be served. If the world at large is ever to see that higher and truer civilisation of which it is capable, the Powers must abandon that lust of conquest that is but a drag on all true progress, they must cease to look upon the interest of each as a claim to which the interests of all others must yield, and combine to seek the benefit of all. The more nearly that ideal is reached the more important will it be that Islam should be prepared to take its fitting place in the grand scheme of regeneration. That it should do so it must follow now and for ever the ideas that are the mainspring of Pan-Islamism.
The third and last of the healthy influences I have named is the development of the Arabic Press. Were we to consider merely the number of years the occupation has lasted, it might seem reasonable to suppose that it has been the most powerful of all the influences affecting the general character of the people, but, as I have pointed out in the last chapter,it was not until after the evacuation of Fachoda that it had any really solid or lasting effect. Prior to that event the Egyptians had undoubtedly learned to appreciate the principles illustrated in the administration of the country by the English, but the uncertainty that overhung the future prevented even the warmest admirers and advocates of English methods taking up a strong or definite position in their favour. During the earlier part of the occupation which as yet has been by far the longest, the greatest benefit conferred upon the Egyptians was therefore the freedom it gave them to profit from the influences with which I have already dealt. When the change came it found the great majority of the people ready and willing to accept the friendship and guidance of England, and the strength and honesty of this feeling was clearly visible in their attitude during the disastrous opening of the South African War which followed so soon after. While the Armenians openly and offensively rejoiced at every fresh telegram of disaster and defeat, the Egyptians not only preserved in public the calm they had shown during the Fachoda incident, but among themselves were not slow in expressing sympathy. The reactionary party and some of the lower classes were, perhaps not unnaturally, pleased to see English pride humbled, but the one and only class that really rejoiced at the humiliation was, as I have said, the Christian Armenians. Among Pan-Islamic circles there was a sincere wish for the triumph of the English, for these knew that the interests of the Moslems of South Africa werebound up with theirs, and that though the Moslems had many just grounds of complaint against the treatment accorded them by the colonists, and the lack of protection afforded them by the Home Government, they knew that the tyranny of the colonist was, after all, better than the friendship of the Boer. In this view the majority of the people shared, and though the reactionary Press thought it good policy to profess a desire for the collapse of British rule, and to laud the Boers as heroes fighting for liberty and so forth, they knew well enough that the Boers would have laughed to scorn any idea of granting social or political freedom or equality to any Egyptian, or Mahomedan, however high his rank.
Under the Mamaluks, as we have seen, contrary to the commonly held idea that the people dare not even protest against the injustices by which they were oppressed, it was no unusual thing for them to do so, and if they did not profit more from the power of resistance they possessed, it was because they were too indifferent to, or too ignorant of, their own interests to defend these as they might have done. Under Mahomed Ali and his successors they were not only tongue-tied, but enslaved in a far worse manner than they had ever been by the Mamaluks. Under the English they have enjoyed the most perfect liberty of speech—a liberty that is only slowly subjecting itself to the self-restraint that alone can render it as serviceable to their true interests as it ought to be. It was but natural therefore that the Press, for alarge part written and conducted by men of no position or influence, and actuated by no higher desire than to gain the momentary applause of their readers, should put theEatanswill Gazetteto shame in its own particular line, and that the folly and ineptitude of its articles should make the Egyptians ridiculous in the eyes of all intelligent people. But these are the faults of youth and inexperience and lack of education, and are largely due to the bad example of European papers of little if any higher merit. Slowly but steadily the Egyptian Press has moved, and is still moving, towards a worthier standard, and the fact that its movement is a spontaneous and voluntary one is an incontestable proof that the Egyptians are a people not only capable of, but anxious for, self-improvement, and a people entirely deserving of liberty. It is a maxim in mechanics that the weakest link in a chain is a measure of the strength of the whole. Of the newspaper Press of a country I think it may be said that its strength and merit are to be judged by its best. So judged we cannot but think well of the Egyptian Press. That the liberty accorded to it is still abused by journals on a par with the lowest type of journalism in Europe is to be regretted. It is an evil that will eventually cure itself. Meanwhile the liberty granted to the Press has undoubtedly been the chief boon conferred by England upon the country. It is a gift that has done more to educate and elevate the people and promote healthy progress than all else, or aught else, that has been done forthe attainment of these ends. Slowly but surely it is doing the great work accomplished in England mainly through the establishment of Sunday and "Ragged" Schools—the raising of the intellectual standard of the people, the formation and nurturing of healthy ambitions, and the creation of a higher and purer conception of all the relations of life. All that England has done for the financial, commercial, and general material welfare of the country and of its inhabitants, almost immeasurably great and good as this work has been, is but a trifle to the results that may ultimately spring directly from the liberty given to the Press. As I have said, the progress being made is slow, so slow that European critics fail to grasp its real extent and value, but it is steady, widespread and real, a progress that will not be easily checked, and one that is doing more to change the character of the Egyptians in a healthy, life-giving manner than any other influence tending in the same direction.
The good work that is thus being done is due in the first place to the sound and enlightened views of Lord Cromer, who has persistently refused to be guided, or rather misguided, by the suggestions of those who would fain see a censorship established. By the course he has adopted Lord Cromer has thrown upon the journalists of the country a degree of responsibility of which, though as yet its obligations are not fully recognised by those on whom they lie, must tend, and is indeed tending, to render the Press worthy of the trust reposed in it. It is due to the sense of thisresponsibility already felt both by journalists and the public, that the serious journalists find themselves compelled more and more to justify the policy they advocate, and to maintain it with consistency. Thus instructed by experience, the people are yearly exacting a higher standard of excellence from the Press, and the demand is being met by a corresponding improvement. We must not forget, however, that the possibilities inherent in Lord Cromer's wise policy might have still been lying dormant and unproductive, if among the Egyptians there had been no one to see these, and, taking them up, render them in some degree an actuality. Fortunately the occasion brought the man. It was in the year 1887 that a small weekly Arabic paper styled theAdabwas first established at Cairo. This rapidly becoming known for the ability with which its articles were written, continued to grow in favour with the Mahomedan public, to which it was specially addressed, as a journal devoted to science, literature, and religion, until the year 1890 when its editor joined the staff of the daily newspaper, theMoayyad, of which, three years later, he became the sole proprietor. From that date onward theMoayyadprogressed rapidly, and becoming the recognised organ of the Ulema of the Azhar, took the position it still maintains as the leading Arabic and Islamic journal, not only in Egypt but throughout the Mahomedan world. Various journals have been started from time to time in opposition to or rivalry with theMoayyad, but none have ever succeeded in impairing its supremacy.From first to last this success has been attained and preserved by the Sheikh Ali Youssef, its proprietor and editor. Well read in all learning that qualifies a man to take his place among the Ulema, but ignorant of every language save his own, the Sheikh, as a newspaper man and a leader writer, is not only foremost among the journalists of the East, but one who in his chief merit has few, if any, rivals among the journalists of the world. "His paper," says Mr. Hartmann in his "Arabic Press of Egypt," "is a power to be reckoned with. Moslems read it with pleasure, finding in it what most delights their hearts. There they read in strong, well-chosen and simple language their own thoughts, or rather, what they imagine to be their own thoughts; for such is the art of the cunning journalist, that the unsuspicious reader follows in the track of the writer's thoughts and fancies them to be his own." When I add that this man is a man of thought, of great self-restraint, endowed with patience, energy, and perseverance, I have drawn the picture of one who, in any community, must exercise a large influence as a journalist, but amidst a people like the Egyptians, so little prone to think for themselves, must indeed be a power to reckon with. As a fact, he has done more to guide and mould Moslem opinion in Egypt than any other ten men that could be named. Like the historian Gabarty, of Arabic origin he is personally a reserved, thoughtful man, leading a quiet, studious life, adverse to ostentation and parade of every kind, and yet possessing keenbusiness instincts. The position he has won for his journal has been gained by the steady pursuit of the policy which he from the first adopted—the love of justice and the desire to promote the interests of Islam and of Egypt. He has again and again had to meet the open hostility of different classes of the people he has been trying to serve, for he has not hesitated to advocate unpopular measures and ideals when these have commended themselves to his judgment, and yet he is persistently set down by Europeans as a fanatic and intriguer! Recognising as fully as any man can do the advantages that the English occupation has conferred upon the country, he is yet as a Moslem compelled to weigh these against the disadvantages due, not specially to the presence of the English but to the influence of the European Powers generally. Striving always to hold a just balance, never hasty to judge, fearless though moderate in the expression of his views, he is the one and only journalist in the country who for years past has steadily and with absolute honesty of purpose endeavoured to promote harmony and goodwill between the people and their English rulers. The Egyptians have long since recognised this. There was a time, indeed, when not a few of them cried out that he had been bought by the English. Unfortunately Europeans understand neither the man nor his policy, and seizing upon some extract from his paper, as often as not wrested from a qualifying context, and possibly written by an outside contributor, paint him as a firebrand and fanatic.