The Khedive’s escape

Ismail Pasha: For a gambler who had lost every game, the Khedive had not done badly, there are lessons here aplenty.

Spring has a way of coming early in Egypt, even if it only does so once every hundred years. On 18^th February 1879, more than 100 years before the fateful events of early 2011 — which have since become known as the Arab Spring — the broad, tree-lined and uncharacteristically-straight boulevard, that connected the palace of the Khedive with the Ministry of Finance, became the scene of a coup. Certain officers of the Egyptian army kidnapped two of Egypt’s most powerful men, Prime Minister Nubar Pasha, an Armenian Christian and Finance Minister Rivers Wilson, an English taxation expert. The kidnappers, who included members of the fellahin (or common people), complained that their families were starving and demanded that the decision to cut back their pay be reversed.

Even as the kidnapped men feared for their lives, His Highness, the Turkish-born, French-educated Khedive Ismail Pasha, the nominal viceroy of the increasingly weak Ottoman Sultan, dramatically entered the scene. He ordered the rioters to return to their homes, promising them that their just demands would be settled. Although there was some bloodshed in the ensuing confusion, the Khedive emerged as the hero of this entire episode, which had lasted little over half an hour. The next morning the city was abuzz with the rumour that the Khedive had in fact stage managed the coup to remind his powerful creditors — the British, French, German and Italians — that even though he had been stripped off all political power, he was still a force to reckon with, as well as to remove the detested Pasha and to replace him with his own somewhat ineffective son, Tewfik.

Emboldened by his success, the Khedive went a step further. He cancelled the informal agreement by which the English and the French dominated the cabinet. He sacked Wilson and his French counterpart and filled their posts with loyal and biddable Egyptians. At the heart of the matter lay the issue of the ownership of the Suez Canal, which, although cut through Egyptian soil was owned by the French under a 99-year lease won from his predecessor, Said Pasha. Egypt was only entitled to a return on its investment in the Canal like any other foreign investor, for the duration of the lease. Upon coming to power, the Khedive had tried to renegotiate these terms. However, Pasha had struck such a poor deal that the Khedive had ended up paying more than four million pounds in compensation to the Canal company.

This money came from international loans, floated at ruinous rates of interest. The initial loans soon got lost in the sea of more borrowing incurred for such laudable projects as building of harbours, railways, irrigation canals and sugar factories which hastened Egypt’s inexorable march towards bankruptcy. Soon the Khedive sold Egypt’s share in the Canal to meet his payment obligations and allowed his creditors to set up an international commission to protect the interests of the foreign bondholders.The Khedive only remained a monarch in name, whilst the real power remained with Pasha and Wilson. And therefore the necessity for the coup.

The Khedive’s luck was, however, short-lived. In June 1879, the financial powers, with the support of the Ottoman Sultan who was not a stranger to bankruptcy, asked the Khedive to resign. The Khedive held out hoping perhaps for that last loan with which he could bribe the Sultan. On the morning of the 26^th of June 1879, however, he received a telegram addressed to the “Ismail Pasha, ex-Khedive of Egypt”. Ismail read his political death sentence without blinking and sent for his son Tewfik who was to be appointed Khedive in his stead. Four days later, Cairenes witnessed a long luggage train steaming out of Cairo station, followed by the Khedive and his family in a special. Next day his yacht Mehrunissa left for Naples amid navy salutes. It was rumoured that apart from the treasures, the Powers had paid him a competency, later valued at two million pounds. For a gambler who had lost every game, the Khedive had not done badly. And there are lessons here aplenty for anyone who cares to learn.

(The source for this is Thomas Pakenham’s The Scramble for Africa)

Published in The Express Tribune, March 1^st, 2012.