<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
<h3>THE PROCLAMATION THAT FAILED</h3>
<p>As soon as Bonaparte's flagship, <i>l'Orient</i>, had arrived
sufficiently near to the shore a boat was sent into
the harbour to bring off the French Consul, Monsieur
Magallon. With their usual want of tact in a
sudden emergency the people at once protested
against his leaving, and would have prevented his
going had it not been that the commander of a
Turkish warship then in the harbour, having probably
a keen sense of the possible results to himself
and his ship a refusal might produce, persuaded the
Governor to allow him to go. From Monsieur
Magallon, therefore, Bonaparte learned the little
serious opposition the town could offer, since not
only was the garrison limited to a body of about
five hundred janissaries, a species of militia possessing
scarcely any military training or experience, but it
was so wholly unprovided with ammunition and
other necessaries that at the most it could make
but a momentary resistance. Bonaparte, influenced
no doubt by the fear that Nelson returning might
surprise him in the act of disembarking, decided upon
landing immediately. It was in vain that Admiral<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></SPAN></span>
Brueys pleaded for a brief delay, urging that the
weather was most unpropitious, and that the roughness
of the sea, their distance from the shore, their
ignorance of the coast, the rocky and dangerous
nature of the landing-place, and the approach of
night, all combined to render the operation a most
hazardous one. Bonaparte would hear of no delay,
and so, the fleet having been warily drawn close to
the shore, the task of landing the forty thousand men
of the expedition was commenced.</p>
<p>The spot chosen for this purpose was one about
three miles to the west of the town, and the first
boatloads reached the shore at ten o'clock at night.
The beaching of the boats was a work of the utmost
danger and difficulty, the darkness upon the rocky
beach rendering the scene one of the greatest confusion.
Fortunately for the French, no attempt
was made to oppose their landing, for had the full
resources of the town been brought to bear upon
them at this critical point, slight as those resources
were, the invaders must have suffered heavily. As
it was, Bonaparte himself landed a little after midnight,
and having slept for an hour or so upon the
sands, set out on foot for the town with a party of
four hundred men. He was, we are told, in the best
of spirits, and marched gaily along with no ear for
the surges beating on the beach, and never recking
that, even then, other surges were drearily droning
on the shores of St. Helena the melancholy music
that was to be the doleful dirge of his dying days.</p>
<p>Just as the day was breaking a number of Bedouin
Arabs attacked the little force, but after exchanging<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></SPAN></span>
a few shots retired beyond range, and Bonaparte,
followed near at hand by additional troops, continued
his advance without further incident until close under
the walls of the town.</p>
<p>Although quite conscious of the hopelessness of
their position, the Governor and the townspeople
determined to resist, and the arrival of the French
was therefore saluted with a brisk but ineffectual
cannonading from the walls. Promptly dividing his
force into three divisions, Bonaparte commanded a
general assault to be made, and soon, in spite of the
fusillading of the enemy and the showers of stones
and burning materials thrown upon them, two of the
divisions succeeded in scaling the walls, while the
third forced its way through one of the gates. A
sharp but brief contest followed in the streets of the
town, but the Governor and the militia having
retired to one of the forts, the people, accepting
the assurances that Bonaparte had conveyed to them,
that he came to re-establish the authority of the
Sultan and to overthrow their oppressors, the Mamaluks,
by whom it had been usurped, and that their
own lives, property, and religion would be respected,
threw down their arms.</p>
<p>The town thus occupied by the French, the
Governor, short of ammunition, and without hope
of succour or aid of any description, yielded to the
inevitable and surrendered with his troops. Anxious
to conciliate the people as much as possible, Bonaparte
at once offered to reinstate the Governor upon
the condition of his consenting to remain faithful to
the French, and the offer having been accepted he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></SPAN></span>
was replaced in charge of the town, but subject to
the supervision of General Kleber, who having been
wounded in the attack was to remain for the time in
command of the French garrison.</p>
<p>Having thus easily established himself upon
Egyptian soil, Bonaparte lost no time in preparing
for an advance upon Cairo, and the landing of the
remainder of the troops, together with the horses
for the cavalry, and the whole of the baggage and
equipment of the expedition, was pressed forward as
rapidly as possible. Both as a measure tending to
facilitate this movement and as an important part
of the policy he had resolved to follow in his dealings
with the people, Bonaparte set himself to gain their
friendship. Strict orders were, therefore, issued that
the people were not to be molested in any way, and
some soldiers having been detected in looting after
the surrender of the town, he seized the opportunity
to give a proof that his assurances were not intended
to be an idle parade of words, and had the offenders
summarily and severely punished. In this, as in
other ways, it is evident that Bonaparte was under
the impression that he could gain, if not the full
allegiance, at least the passive neutrality of the
Alexandrians, and, indeed, it was clear from the
preparations that he had made prior to his actual
arrival in the country, that he had looked forward
to being received by the Egyptians as a deliverer
and saviour. Two of these preparations deserve
special mention here. One, curiously characteristic
of the French spirit of the day, was the provision
of an immense number of tricoloured cockades to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></SPAN></span>
be distributed to, and worn by, the people as evidence
of their reconciliation with the French; the other
was the composition and printing of a proclamation
in Arabic which was to serve at once as a declaration
of the aims and intentions of the French in entering
Egypt and as an appeal to the friendship and support
of the people. This proclamation has, with great
justice, been described as a most extraordinary
document. Of considerable length, it was framed
throughout with the object of soothing the religious
susceptibilities of the Egyptians, and was so worded
as to represent Bonaparte and the French, if not as
Mahomedans, at least as the special friends and
protectors of Islam. Beginning with the well-known
formula, "In the name of the most merciful God,"
invariably prefixed by Mahomedans to all important
writings, it proceeded to state that the French had
arrived in Egypt with the intention of punishing the
Mamaluks for their ill-treatment of the French and
other foreign subjects resident in the country; to
restore to the people themselves the rights of which
they were deprived by their tyrannical rulers, and to
re-establish the authority of the Sultan of Turkey,
the legitimate sovereign. Had the proclamation
stopped here it would in all probability have been
accepted by the people as a genuine expression of
the purport and scope of the invasion, but it went
on with great elaboration to promise boons to the
people that these were quite incapable of either
comprehending, or had they done so, of appreciating.
These promises were couched in the spirit then
dominant in Paris, and, indeed, throughout France,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></SPAN></span>
that is to say, the spirit of the Revolution, the
"Gospel" of "Liberty, equality, and fraternity,"
that was to turn the world into a paradise. Thenceforth,
it declared, it was to be possible for all to
arrive at the most exalted posts; public affairs were
to be directed by the most learned, virtuous, and
intelligent; and thus the people were to be made
happy. All this was in perfect accord with the
theory and teaching of the Mahomedan religion,
but it was in some respects very far indeed from
the practice to which the people had for centuries
been accustomed. As to the promise of opening
out facilities for advancement, we have seen that in
the Governor of the town the people had a convincing
proof that these already existed, and it is not
at all probable that it ever occurred to them that the
facilities at which the French General hinted were of
a very different nature to those of which Sayed
Mahomed had availed himself. It is not surprising,
therefore, that these promises seemed to the
Egyptians nothing more than mere idle bombast,
and were by them promptly put down as simply a
valueless bid for their favour. What followed was
still less calculated to win their confidence, for, as
evidence of the friendly spirit of the invasion,
Bonaparte went on to declare his faith in the unity
of God, his respect for the Prophet Mahomed and
the Koran, and to claim that he had "destroyed the
Pope" and the Knights of Malta because they were
the enemies of Islam. Such professions as these to
the Egyptians carried on their face their own contradiction,
for, if Bonaparte was in truth a Moslem,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></SPAN></span>
or a friend of Islam, how was it, they asked, that he
had entered the dominions of the Sultan without
some acknowledgment from him of the claim thus
made to be acting upon his behalf?</p>
<p>The concluding phrases of the proclamation came,
too, rather as an anti-climax to the lofty spirit of
benevolence and high aim that the body of it was
intended to express, for the whole rigmarole—I can
scarcely find a better word for it—came to an end
with a commonplace promise that those who submitted
to the French should be "exalted," while
those who opposed them should be "utterly destroyed."
One can fancy how the Egyptians
smiled to themselves at this conclusion and accepted
it as in itself the whole object and purport
of the document. But whatever may have been
their private feelings on the subject, and their own
historians have told us how little reliance they put
upon the professions and promises thus offered
them, it is certain that outwardly the Alexandrians
discreetly accepted both the cockades and the
proclamation without any show of feeling other
than that of amused curiosity. So little, indeed,
did they betray their true feelings, the French
were unquestionably deceived, and did not realise
how different these were from those which they
had expected the proclamation to excite. But it
is certain that none of the Egyptians were in the
least deceived by its plausible tone, and while they
refrained from any display of hostility to the French,
they were looking forward with high hopes to their
early annihilation by the Mamaluks.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></SPAN></span>Large numbers of this proclamation having been
printed by the aid of the Oriental type and printing
presses, with which the expedition was provided,
Bonaparte not only had it freely distributed in
Alexandria, but forwarded copies of it to Cairo
and elsewhere, using as his messengers for this
purpose some Mahomedans he had released from
the prisons of Malta, and had brought with him
to Egypt, with the object of utilising them as
interpreters, and in the hope that gratitude for
their release would cause them to espouse and
advocate his cause.</p>
<p>That Bonaparte's conception of the probable attitude
of the Egyptians towards the expedition was
entirely erroneous, is clearly evident from the whole
tone of the proclamation. Thoroughly well-informed
as he appears to have been, as to the actual state
of the country and the deplorable misgovernment
from which it was suffering, he and his countrymen
seem to have jumped to the conclusion that
they would be received and welcomed by the
people as deliverers. That they should have so
thought is a very noticeable fact, for it plainly
proves that all the information that they had
received, including that furnished by the Consul
Magallon and other French residents, afforded no
ground for any suspicion that the French would
incur any risk or danger from fanaticism on the
part of the people. That they were keenly awake
to the absolute necessity of conciliating the intense
attachment of the Egyptians to their faith, is not
more clearly evident than is the fact that they<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></SPAN></span>
had no conception of hostile fanaticism as a factor
to be considered in their relations with the people.
It was with self-satisfied bigotry and not fanaticism
that Bonaparte considered he had to deal, and
as we shall see in the course of our story, he was
so far perfectly correct. But in arguing from this
assumption, he was led by ignorance of the facts
with which he had to deal, to absolutely erroneous
conclusions. The fundamental error into which he
fell is one that, notwithstanding the warning his
experience might have conveyed, was repeated by
ourselves in the beginning of the present occupation
of the country, and distinguishes even the
recommendations of the brilliant statesman, Lord
Dufferin. This error was the assumption that a
people so sorely oppressed and downtrodden as
were the Egyptians could not fail to be grateful
and friendly to any one who should deliver them
from their oppressors, yet it needed but a slight
acquaintance with the people, with the evils from
which they suffered, and the light in which they
regarded those evils, to show that this could not
be so. As we have seen, the dominant trait of
the Egyptians' character was, and is, their loyalty
to Islam, and, as a consequence, their fidelity to
the Sultan. Knowing nothing of the Christian
religion or of the political condition of Christendom,
they looked with contempt upon Christians
generally as in every way their inferiors, and recalling
how great but unavailing had been the
struggle of the Christians for the possession of
the Holy Land, they regarded their long abstention<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></SPAN></span>
from all further effort for its conquest, as a
proof and tacit admission of their inability to face
the armies of the Sultan. Thus the Egyptians of
that day, as indeed the great mass of them still
do, believed the Sultan to be the greatest and
most powerful monarch in the world. That his
rule in Egypt was little more than nominal they
did not perceive. In their eyes it was a real and
substantial power. That they should thus be blind
to what seems to us self-evident truth, is largely
to be attributed to the fact that almost all that
was done in the country, was done in the name
of the Sultan. It was in his name and, as they
were often assured, by his authority that the taxes
and exactions by which they were ruined were
imposed; and since Beys, Ulema, and all who
represented these, were never tired of preaching
that all resistance or disobedience was rebellion
against the Sultan, it was but natural that they
should regard his rule as very far indeed from
being the mere fiction it in reality was.</p>
<p>Nor did the tyranny and oppression from which
they suffered in the least militate against their
loyalty, for they never for a moment attributed
their woes or troubles to any more distant cause
than the officials by whose immediate action they
were inflicted. That the higher officials did not
protect them was, as they thought, due solely to
the misrepresentations, indifference, or ill-faith of
those through whom alone they had access to
them. There was not a fellah in the land in those
days, nor is there one to-day, that did not or does<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></SPAN></span>
not believe that if he could only lay his grievances
before the Sultan or the Khedive in person, he
would receive perfect justice and ample compensation
for all his tribulations. They were confirmed
in this opinion by the nature of the oppression
from which they suffered, for this necessarily varied
in different places and at different times, according
to the personal character of the officials through or
by whom it was inflicted. Moreover, among the
worst of their tyrants of high degree, however
callous these might be to the miseries of the
people, there were but few, indeed, who did not
consider it a matter of policy, and therefore in
some measure one of pleasure, to pose now and
then as a minister of justice, or as a benevolent
benefactor. To render justice to the poor and
oppressed, and to be profuse in liberality, have
ever been the surest means of gaming the real and
sincere approbation or devotion of the Egyptians,
as of all other Oriental peoples. None knew this
fact or appreciated it more thoroughly than some
of those from whose heartless cruelty they suffered
most. Nor was it difficult in the roughly
organised administration of the country, for the
worst of their oppressors to play the part of an
innocent victim of the wrong-doing of others,
for when appealed to, the higher officials threw
the blame upon their subordinates, while these in
their turn professed to be the unwilling but helpless
agents of their superiors. Thus finding all complaints
useless, the sufferers always nourished the
thought that if they could only plead their case<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></SPAN></span>
personally to the Sultan, the one and only person
who could not urge his own impotency to remedy
the evils they complained of, or grant them the
relief they sought, they would be assured of the
justice and mercy they so sorely needed, and which
they could gain from no other. That this should
be their idea is not surprising, for they have never
as yet risen beyond the idea of personal government,
and therefore while their belief in the
immaculate justice and merciful disposition of the
Sultan was liberally fed and encouraged by all
around them, even by those from whose tyranny
and greed they suffered most, they attributed his
evident indifference to their griefs to the impossibility
of his knowing and dealing with all the
acts of all the officials of his Empire. Of an
organised system of government, in which the controlling
power is able to exert itself through all
grades of its officials from the highest downwards
to the lowest, they had no knowledge, and indeed
could have no conception, nor even in the present
day, after more than twenty years' experience of
the working of such a Government, have they any
just idea of its organisation or of the principles or
methods upon which its efficiency is based. Nor
did the Egyptians see the cruelty and tyranny
from which they suffered from the same point of
view as the French did, or as we do. However
limited and imperfect were the services that the
Government rendered them, they were conscious
that they were in some respects dependent upon
it. It at least afforded them a certain amount of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></SPAN></span>
protection for life and property, and gave them a
rude system of justice. As a return for these
benefits they admitted its right to tax them, and
being thus entitled to tax them, it naturally, as it
seemed to them, taxed them to the uttermost
penny, while they as naturally paid as little as
possible.</p>
<p>It was simply a contest between the Government
and the governing, not unlike the bargaining that
was their sole method of carrying on trade in the
bazaars and markets, and they had and could have
no conception of any other manner in which the
Government of a country could be conducted. It
was not possible, therefore, for the people to grasp
the ideas Bonaparte was anxious to press upon them,
nor was it possible that during his short stay in
Alexandria they should have any opportunity of
gaining a better comprehension of his Republican
ideals, so utterly at conflict with all their conceptions
of the relations of a people with those who governed
them. It is true, that having confirmed Mahomed
Kerim as Governor of the town, Bonaparte had
appointed a Dewan, or Council of seven members,
to aid in the administration of its affairs; and to
these he, no doubt, gave sage advice and strict
injunctions as to the duty of governing for the
benefit of the people; but while to him this Council
was suggestive of the Directory of Paris, and thus of
the spirit of the Republic, to the Alexandrians it
was but a reproduction of the Dewan at Cairo,
which to them was typical of nothing but tyranny
and torture. Further, the strict discipline necessarily<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></SPAN></span>
enforced upon all the members of the expedition,
and rendered all the more evident and striking, in
that all ranks were ceaselessly engaged in the
work of receiving the stores from the ships and
preparing for the advance, when contrasted with the
laxity that prevailed in the ranks of the Mamaluks
and of all other troops that the people had previously
had any knowledge of, was not at all calculated to
point with any but sarcastic emphasis the doctrines
of equality and fraternity presented to them.</p>
<p>And not only the spirit, but even the wording of
the proclamation, was fatal to its success. In it
Bonaparte had declared that "all men are equal
in the sight of God." This, to Mahomedan ears,
was nothing short of rank and absolute blasphemy,
for the Koran, which to the Mahomedan is the
veritable and literal "Word of God," emphatically
asserts, and in the plainest terms, the contrary.
This clause was, therefore, in itself sufficient to stamp
the whole document with impotency, and showed
how imperfectly Bonaparte and his advisers were
informed on some of the points most affecting the
sentiments and spirit of the people. To the Moslem
all mankind is divided into two classes—the Moslems
and the non-Moslems. Between these they admit
of no equality whatever. Among themselves they
are theoretically equal. As a Moslem the Sultan
himself is no more than his meanest servant. Hence
the democratic spirit that exists everywhere in Islam,
and hence the freedom with which servants and even
slaves address their masters. But in contradiction
to this, the man who rules, whether as Sultan or as his<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></SPAN></span>
deputy, or in any minor degree as the master of a
household or otherwise, is, from the mere fact of his
ruling, regarded as being invested with a Divine right
to do so, since, although one subject to limitations, it
is equally a doctrine of the Koran, that all power is
from God, and therefore to be respected as such.
Thus in Islam democracy and despotism go hand
in hand; and while the Moslem of Egypt, as the
Moslem of other lands, sees no incongruity or
difficulty in this, to the European mind the concurrent
operation of these two conflicting theories
gives rise to many puzzling problems. Yet the
solution is simple enough, for the democracy of
Islam is the democracy of the grave, the recognition
of the truth that all must die, and that in death all
are equal; for though this belief be shared by all
men as the one great truism of life, among Mahomedans
everywhere there is an active sense of its
verity that ever present with them modifies all their
views of life and death in a manner wholly foreign
to the European mind.</p>
<p>To the Egyptians, therefore, the proclamation was
a mere flood of futile folly, and so little confidence
was placed in its promises or in the French protestations
of amity, that many of the people who could
afford to do so made haste to quit the town and seek
shelter in Rosetta or elsewhere, wherever they could
speed by boat or by land as opportunity offered.</p>
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