HISTORICAL CONTEXT

Egypt had been going through a process of integration into the world economy as a supplier of long-staple cotton since the 1820s, a role that was particularly enhanced during the U.S. Civil War in the 1860s.²⁵

During the same fifty-year period that Egypt was adapting physically and institutionally to European financial and legal practices, the country's society was experiencing major changes in inter- and intra-class relations. The most relevant to our immediate purpose are the changes that occurred within Egypt's elite society. Generally, three long-term changes were working their way within that society during these decades and conditioned the alliance that moved the events from January to June 1879. First, ethnicity gradually lost its importance as a decisive factor in assignment to senior posts in the bureaucracy and the army. Initially, the occupants of those posts came predominantly from Turkish and Circassian stock and occasionally from Armenian and other non-indigenous origins. These office holders were generally referred to as “dhawāt,” a term that can roughly be equated with “nobility,” and the term of reference was the office they held.²⁶

Second, even though the cabinet continued to be dominated by dhawāt of Turco-Circassian origin, there was a gradual move to fill senior posts in the army and bureaucracy with indigenous Egyptians, a process that Ehud Toledano describes as “[t]he most significant and dynamic socio-cultural process in nineteenth century Egypt.”

Toledano, “Social and Economic Change,” 266. This process was outlined in F. Robert Hunter, “The Making of a Notable Politician: Muhammad Sultan Pasha (1825–1884),” International Journal of Middle East Studies 15 (1983): 537–44; idem, Egypt, 51–53; idem, “Egypt Under the Successors,” 180, 183, 189–90. See also Baer, History, 49–50; Barakat, Tatawwur, 187–88; J. C. McCoan, Egypt as It Is (New York: Henry Holt & Co., 1877), 28–29; Latifa Muhammad Salim, al-Quwa al-Ijtimaiyya fi al-Thawra al-Urabiyya (Cairo: al-Hay

a al-Misriyya al-

Amma lil-Kitab, 1981), 120–21.

yān,” an Arabic term that is roughly equivalent to “notables.” As apparent from citations in some scholarly works on that period, this ongoing process of confluence is evident in the use of “dhawāt” in official registers, where it occasionally referred to people such as Muhammad Sultan Pasha, a vivid example of the rise of a

yān in the 1870s and 1880s, as well as to other Egyptians of non-ayan origin, such as Rifaa al-Tahtawi and Salih Majdi.

Third, notwithstanding the gradual dilution in the ethnic connotation of the term “dhawāt” and the apparent occasional interchange in the use of this term with a

yān, these two terms still referred in most cases to two different social groups of elites in the late 1870s. Thus, at that time there were provincial notables such as Sulayman Abaza, Hamid Abu Stait, and Hasan al-Shirii; urban merchants such as Hasan Musa al-Aqqad and Hasan al-Hajin; and religious dignitaries such as Shaykh Ali al-Bakri who were apparently described as ayan only. Inasmuch as this was the case, there was a growing convergence in interests between the dhawāt and a

yān throughout the second half of the 19th century, both as large landholders and as participants in state administration. In their capacity as large landholders, they cumulatively controlled a considerable area of the country's arable land by the late 1870s, enjoyed a preferential tax rate over varying proportions of their holdings (ushr, or tithe), and benefited from laws and practices that allowed privileged access to irrigation works and cheap agricultural labor through forced labor (corvée) regulations.

See the texts and amendments of this law in Filib Jallad, Qamus al-Idara wa-al-Qada, vol. 3 (Alexandria: al-Matba

a al-Bukhariyya,1890–1901), 652–66. For overall accounts, see Campbell, “Inside View,” 33; Barakat, Tatawwur, 61–64, 82–83; Henry C. Kay, “Land Tenure and Taxation in Egypt,” Contemporary Review 43 (1883): 417; Baer, History, 10–11.

On the Majlis as an a

yān stronghold, see John Ninet, “Origin of the National Party in Egypt,” Nineteenth Century 13 (1883): 128–30; Schölch, Egypt, 73–78; Salah Isa, al-Thawra al-Urabiyya (Beirut: al-Mu

assasa al-

Arabiyya lil-Dirasat wal-Nashr, 1972), 314–28; Hunter, Egypt, 78–79, 212. Cf. Abu-Lughod, “Transformation,” 341–43.

yān together.

Two major factors developed and conditioned the competition for political space during the 1870s. First, there was a relative rise in the power of the traditional elites vis-à-vis the khedive. This was the outcome of several factors. First, it was a natural outcome of the growth of the bureaucracy from a structure essentially annexed to the ruler's household into an articulated network with increasing hierarchy. This gradual structural separation between the ruler and the bureaucracy occurred at a time of expansion in the tools of administration and communication that were increasingly placed in the hands of the bureaucracy.³³

Second, the khedive gradually lost one of his main sources for maintaining the loyalty of the elites—namely, the awarding of land grants, which declined as the fiscal crisis intensified.³⁴

The other major factor was the rise in European control since 1876, when Egypt postponed payment on one of its foreign-debt coupons. Within two years, European control grew into an articulate network of organs that performed a variety of functions, including directly receiving funds assigned to foreign debts, monitoring due observance by Egypt of its debt commitments, representing bondholders and negotiating debt-servicing arrangements in their name, inspecting and restructuring Egypt's political and fiscal administration, and eventually taking direct control over administration by placing European personnel in senior government positions.³⁶

Ahmad Urabi, Kashf al-Astar an Sirr al-Asrar (Cairo: Matba

at Misr, n.d), 1:44; Ismail Sarhank, Haqaiq al-Akhbar an Duwal al-Bihar (Bulaq: al-Matba

a al-Amiriyya, 1894), 360; W. H. Russell, “Why Did We Depose Ismail?” Contemporary Review 48 (1885): 309.

In the process of tightening its grip over Egypt, European control contributed to further curtailment of the khedive's economic base and political power. By doing so, it enhanced the development of a political vaccuum that became the focus of competition between European control and the traditional elites—and later, other domestic forces—for the next three to four years. Among the milestones in this area was a first report by the Commission of Inquiry, issued in August 1878. The report had two major consequences: in accordance with its recommendations, Khedive Ismail ceded some 426,000 faddāns of royal land to the state; and an independent administration (the Domain Authority) was created under European managment to control that area directly.³⁹

These two measures had other implications for the ensuing power struggle between European control and the traditional elites. The creation of the Domain Authority placed more tools in the hands of European control that were later used against Sharif's cabinet. For their part, the traditional elites availed themselves of the principles in the khedive's decree—known as the August Rescript—to adopt a plan for political reorganization that would have enhanced their share in power while staying consistent with the principles adopted in the decree.

The confrontation between the traditional elites and European control erupted in the Majlis between January and March 1879 over fiscal and other policy measures contemplated by the European cabinet that would have withdrawn from the traditional elites various tax and resource privileges.⁴³

In a pre-emptive move, the traditional elites convened the National Assembly on 2 April, elaborated their program, and submitted it to Ismail with the collective undertaking that “en notre nom, et au nom du pays, que ce qui sera nécessaire sera fait pour atteindre ce but…nous sommes tous unis pour sa bonne exécution.”⁴⁷

Not unexpectedly, the new cabinet was dominated by Turco-Circassians, in line with the traditional control by the dhawāt of such origins for this institution. Nevertheless, this is a point that existing historiography takes as evidence that the assembly and the National Program were engineered by Ismail and against crediting the movement with any constitutional dimension. Within that framework, the members of the new cabinet are described using terms such as Ismail's “Mamelukes”

yān were only mediocrely rewarded, notwithstanding their major role in mobilizing for that movement.

yān by enhancing the power of the Majlis Shura al-Nuwwab. For this to materialize, however, the cabinet had to succeed in implementing the other components of its mandate as outlined in the National Program.

THE CABINET'S MANDATE: THE NATIONAL PROGRAM

Two major objectives could be gleaned from the National Program: first, to offer a debt-settlement plan on footing that was at least equal to Wilson's proposals to make it attractive to bondholders; second, to negotiate a new distribution of power with the khedive and Europe.⁵⁴

Until that time, debt-servicing arrangments were stipulated in a decree issued in November 1876 (the November Decree), which was based on an earlier scheme of European control.⁵⁶

Negotiating a new distribution of power with the khedive and with Europe, however, was the aim of two separate sections of the program. As far as the khedive was concerned, the program confirmed and capitalized on the August Rescript by requiring that the Council of Ministers become “responsable devant la Chambre des Délégués, de tous les actes concernant les questions intérieures et financières du pays.”

yān) and would have confirmed the independence of the council (the traditional tool of dhawāt). Simultaneously, the program envisaged a space for Europe in Egyptian affairs by accepting the appointment of two European financial controllers.

Three aspects of the National Program need to be emphasized at this point. First, the traditional elites remained generally within the stipulated order of European control with respect to both debt settlement (November Decree) and political organization (August Rescript) and attempted to capitalize on the spirit of the latter decree when they aimed at a redistribution of political power. Second, the treatment of the Law of Exchange constituted the overwhelming difference in public revenues between Wilson and the traditional elites. The structure of receipts in both plans was otherwise similar, including withdrawals projected in each under a fresh loan negotiated with Rothschild. Later, this loan became a focus of many of the pressure tactics used by European powers against Sharif's cabinet. Third, the elites' newly gained control over power could be sustained only to the extent that they suceeded in fulfilling their debt-settlement promises, and the viability of their entire program rested on the success of their financial plan. It was this component of the program that absorbed much of the cabinet's energy in its brief tenure and became the focus of its encounter with European powers.

Using the National Program as the frame of reference, Sharif's new cabinet moved in two directions. First, it had to mobilize funds to make good its promises regarding debt repayment. This was an imminent task, as two coupons were falling due on 1 May. Second, it had to work for the envisaged change in political administration by making the Council of Ministers responsible to the Majlis. For this purpose, the cabinet had to develop a set of laws, “sur le modèle des lois de même nature, en vigueur en Europe, tout en tenant compte des moeurs et des besoins des populations,”⁶³

THE RECORD: SHARIF'S CABINET AND EUROPEAN CONTROL

The Tactics of Financial Strain

The encounter between Europe and the traditional elites soon centered on financial resources as the main tool in conducting their power struggle. For their part, European diplomacy and European control placed the cabinet under financial duress by demanding quicker repayment of loans and directly blocking foreign sources of fresh funds. Various tactics and channels were used to achieve these results. The earlier medium of pressure was the Public Debt Commission (PDC), which, as noted earlier, was the organ of control that monitored the due implementation of loan agreements on behalf of bondholders. Significantly, this body of European control was interwoven with the European cabinets as well as with the Commission of Inquiry, which included the same four PDC members as well as the two European ministers (Wilson and de Blignières). In theory, all these positions were independent of one another. There is no provision in the decrees underlying the formation of either of these bodies, which indicates that any of their members held their posts in an ex officio capacity, be it as members of other commissions or as holders of specific ministerial portfolios.⁷⁶

See nn. 10, 56.

Presumably, this meant that their decisions were independent from one another, even though they were all made by the same people.

Acting in the name of bondholders, the PDC had allowed payments to be in arrears since late 1878 and accommodated reduction or postponement of interest on various later occasions. This was pending the submission of the Commission of Inquiry's second report, which was anticipated by April 1879. Under the new cabinet, it moved from tolerating such deviations to demanding strict compliance with the November Decree, even though Wilson's proposals implicitly acknowledged that this decree was no longer feasible. Expressing this change in position, the PDC resolved that it would not, in principle, renounce any of the rights acquired by Egypt's creditors under existing arrangements. It tried to justify this position on the grounds that these rights had already been recognized by the Mixed Courts as a binding contract. Any infringement of such rights, the PDC pledged, could not be permitted except if they were modified “either by an agreement with the creditors or by a law which would be obligatory upon all persons interested.”⁷⁷

This is how Lascelles paraphrased the position taken by the Public Debt Commissioners: Lascelles to Salisbury, 24 April 1879, PP, Egypt 5 (1879), 180.

By implication, since the program's financial plan did not satisfy either condition, the PDC could not accept it if it involved any such infringement or renunciation.

There were two points of detail in which the program deviated from the November Decree and that could have been taken as incidences of infringement. Both related to the calculation and payment of interest on one of the four consolidated debts, the unified debt. First, in comparison with Wilson's plan, the program provided for a higher interest rate on that debt (6% versus 5%), but this was still lower than the stipulation in the November Decree (7%). Second, the program involved withholding 1 percent of accrued interest for enhanced amortization through the purchase of bonds. This mechanism was allowed in the latter decree but on the basis that the withheld amount was one-seventh of that interest. Planning a reduction in the rate from 7 percent to 6 percent while withholding the same 1 percent meant that the withheld proportion was raised from one-seventh to one-sixth of accrued amounts.⁷⁸

Compare the provisions of the November Decree (n. 56) to deviations noted in Lascelles to Salisbury, 25 April 1879, PP, Egypt 5 (1879), 183.

Accordingly, the PDC made a number of resolutions on 19 April, less than two weeks after the new cabinet took office.⁷⁹

Lascelles to Salisbury, 24 April 1879, PP, Egypt 5 (1879), 180.

First, they protested against any reduction of interest or any change in existing arrangements, thereby protesting against the program and any decree that would emanate from it. Second, they demanded the full and immediate payment of £280,000 that had been in arrears since November 1878 and protested against the non-payment of a short-term loan coupon—another component of the consolidated debts—of some £255,000 originally due on 1 April. Interestingly, these arrears had originated from authorized postponements that PDC members themselves had proposed and sponsored, albeit in their other capacities as individuals sitting on the European cabinets or on the commission. Third, the PDC demanded due payment of £1,990,754, a coupon of the unified debt due on 1 May 1879. Following these demands, The Times commented that the PDC had “struck a blow at this financial plan, which threatens its permanence unless it is placed under European management and is sanctioned by a law which will be accepted by the International Tribunals [i.e., Mixed Courts].”⁸⁰

The Times, 5 May 1879 (report dated 27 April 1879).

Notwithstanding this clear indication that this initial expression of European disapproval would develop into direct application of financial pressure, the cabinet demonstrated its determination to implement the program. Accordingly, it issued a decree that incorporated the debt-settlement plan of the National Program on 22 April (the April Decree),⁸¹

The text of this decree is in Jallad, Qamus, 2:185–86; Fihrist, 91–93; Lascelles to Salisbury, 25 April 1879 incl., PP, Egypt 5 (1879), 184–85.

three days after the PDC made its demands. In attempting to implement the program's financial plan, the cabinet strove to mobilize resources through various means. These included intensive tapping of domestic statutory sources, then soliciting non-statutory domestic funds, and finally trying to reconcile with European powers—short of reinstating European ministers—to obtain their consent for releasing foreign funds (i.e., the Rothschild loan). Each of these three phases was linked with an impending payment of some debt coupon and was characterized by increasing difficulty in obtaining funds and, in each case, a restarting to alternative source that reflected the cabinet's increasing desperation. In the brief tenure of Sharif's cabinet, its fortunes continuously oscillated as a function of its success or failure in raising funds to meet the undertakings in the program.

Soon after its formation, the cabinet moved to raise some £2.25 million for the unified debt and short-term coupons due on 1 May, and focused during that phase on collecting funds via advance payment of land tax and muqābala. For this purpose, two of the regime's most experienced tax collectors, Umar Lutfi Pasha and Shahin Pasha, were immediately sent to the countryside.⁸²

Lascelles to Salisbury, 19 April 1879, PP, Egypt 5 (1879), 175; The Times, 11 April 1879; de Leon, “The Khedive's ‘Coup’,” 65–66.

There are reports that peasants were forced during that campaign to borrow from village moneylenders at 4 or 5 percent per month,⁸³

Lascelles to Salisbury, 26 April 1879 incl., PP, 1878–79, Egypt 5 (1879), 186 (letters by British Consular Agent at Zaqaziq). See also The Times, 24 May 1879.

a practice also followed by previous governments, including the European cabinets.⁸⁴

For an account describing practices under the second European cabinet, see The Times, 8 April 1879. This may have been the cause of farmers' complaints in early 1878 against village heads who borrowed from Europeans in the name of those farmers: see Dar al-Wathaiq, Daftar Sadir Ardhalat 17, p. 4, doc. 2, 1 Muharram 1295.

Given the magnitude of the needed funds, however, the government had to find other means in addition to the small-scale moneylenders. These means were found in banking houses of Egyptian and other ethnic origins, such as those of Cattaui and Menasce.⁸⁵

Al-Tijara, 21 June 1879.

Two types of transactions appear to have been arranged with those firms. First, wholesale loans were arranged for various localities or provinces with the intermediation of prominent traditional elites. These loans followed the general structure of borrowing against future delivery of crops, with the government apparently acting as delivery and paying agent. From various allusions in The Times we can identify at least two transactions of this type, providing a total of some £700,000.⁸⁶

The Times, 5 May, 21 May 1879.

There are indications that domestic bankers provided other, similar loans that also involved the intermediation or guarantee of leading traditional elites.⁸⁷

The Times concludes its report on one of those two deals with the statement “and an old story is once more repeated”: The Times, 5 May 1879.

In addition to wholesale loans on the account of borrowers in the countryside, the government borrowed directly from domestic bankers on its own account.⁸⁸

See the allusions in Ahmad Urabi, Mudhakkirat al-Zaim Ahmad Urabi, ed. Ahmad Abd al-Rahim Mustafa (Cairo:, 1989), 2:249; The Times, 24 April 1879.

This might have been similarly backed by the personal guarantee of some leading dhawāt, in line with archival evidence that domestic bankers had started to abstain—at least several months earlier—from giving loans to the government unless they were backed by such personal guarantees.⁸⁹

Dar al-Wathaiq, Daftar Awamir 25, p. 38, doc. 2, 15 Dhu al-Qida 1295 [November 1878]. The same document is published in Sami, Taqwim, 1544, but with a slightly different archival citation. See also The Times, 21 May 1879, for how a united debt coupon was financed in May 1878. The details are close to a transaction mentioned by Schölch, in which some dhawat acted as intermediaries and guarantors for a government loan: Schölch, Egypt, 76–77.

As a result of intense mobilization, the government raised enough funds to pay a 5 percent coupon on the unified debt and the full amount of the short-term coupon. Although this did not strictly conform with the November Decree, it complied with the program's promises. In the process, however, the cabinet exhausted within three weeks some 24 percent of the annual receipts projected in the program. Thus, the new cabinet won the first round but put such a strain on domestic financial sources that it became susceptible to any serious shortfall of funds in the immediate term.

This soon occurred, marking the second phase in the cabinet's striving for funds, when a major source of first-year payments, the Rothschild loan, was delayed on legal grounds. The loan had been negotiated by Wilson as minister of finance in late 1878. Some advances had already been made in connection with the loan under the two European cabinets that served between August 1878 and April 1879.⁹⁰

Cromer, Modern Egypt, 1:78n.; Lascelles to Salisbury, 27 March 1879, PP, Egypt 5 (1879), 84; Sami, Taqwim, 1553.

The outstanding balance, some £3.2 million–£3.5 million,⁹¹

The outstanding balance of that loan was £3.2 million, according to The Times, 25 June 1879. I reached the higher estimate (£3.5 million) using the information in Jallad, Qamus, 2:177–78.

was included in the program as a one-time flow projected only for the first year. In terms of amounts, however, it was equivalent to some 33 percent of the annual statutory receipts projected for 1879–85, and its significance for the cabinet was perhaps even more considerable because of the drain to which those receipts had already been exposed. The outstanding balance of the loan was earmarked to fund a coupon due on 1 June (£212,500) as well as immediate payments promised to floating-debt holders (some £E3.65 million).⁹²

Jallad, Qamus, 2:177–78.

Thus, the balance of the Rothschild loan would have been sufficient to cover at least 80 percent of these payments.⁹³

Promised payments to floating-debt holders was some £3.75 million (at £1 equals £E0.975). Adding the June coupon, the total reaches some £3.97 million.

Because some floating-debt holders seized parts of the Domain Authority property, which was to be used as security for the loan,⁹⁴

Sami, Taqwim, 1523–24, 1540–41; Vivian to Salisbury, 25 February 1879, PP, Egypt 5 (1879), 59.

Rothschild withheld the outstanding balance pending clearance of the ensuing court case. Even though the balance was temporarily withheld, Wilson included it in his projected flow of funds. Thus, from the strict perspective of legal likelihood, it appeared a fairly legitimate assumption for the traditional elites similarly to count on that balance in their program. Two days before the program was issued, a court of first instance delivered judgment against seizure in a test case, a matter that indicated the imminent availability of the withheld funds.⁹⁵

Lascelles to Salisbury, 31 March, 4 April 1879 incl., in PP, Egypt 5 (1879), 86, 90.

Due to a legal setback in early May, however, the Rothschild loan remained temporarily withheld, and the cabinet had to deal with the repercussions of the delay while it was trying to secure funds for payments due on 1 June.

The dire need for funds created a crisis for the cabinet. To salvage the program, it seems that some attempts were made to raise funds by public subscription among either the “Pashas”

⁹⁶

The Times, 27 May 1879.

(dhawāt), or “notables” (a

yān),

⁹⁷

Ibid., 21 May 1879.

or notables and bankers together.⁹⁸

De Leon, “The Khedive's ‘Coup’,” 65.

It is unclear whether these reports refer to concurrent attempts within several circles or to one gross attempt that encompassed several circles at one time. Some reports mentioned that this was launched under the label Patriotic Loan.⁹⁹

The Times, 21 May 1879.

Although this label included the term “loan,” it sounds more like amounts donated as a gesture of solidarity. There is no allusion to any direct return in the same manner that characterized the muqabāla or ruznāma. The subscription by the dhawāt and a

yān should be read in conjunction with the collective undertaking they had given by guaranteeing the program. The allusion that domestic bankers joined such apparently non-commercial mobilization of funds raises questions about whether this, if it had indeed happened, was an attempt to expand the ranks of those who subcribed to the program (dhawāt, a

yān, army officers, religious dignitaries). Representatives of state, social, and confessional groups would thus have been joined by domestic financiers in a bid to substantiate the attempt to negotiate an alternative distribution of power with Europe. There is no information on the amount of funds raised by this means except one account that specifies some £300,000—that is, less than 10 percent of the outstanding amount of the Rothschild loan.

¹⁰⁰

Ibid., 27 May 1879.

Notwithstanding this expanded front, Egypt defaulted on the June coupon in the first tangible evidence of the program's failure.¹⁰¹

Ibid., 12 June 1879.

At the same time that it was trying to raise funds for June payments, the cabinet continued to implement other aspects of the program and of the April Decree. The decree already stipulated that all unencumbered government property would be allocated for the specific purpose of liquidating the floating debt and that this liquidation process would be controlled by a commission dominated by holders of that debt. Accordingly, a commission of five members was formed on 31 May, a day before the government defaulted on the June coupon.¹⁰²

Dar al-Wathaiq, Daftar Awamir 25, p. 72, doc. 10, 31 May 1879. See also Jallad, Qamus, 2:169; Fihrist, 98–99.

Four of the five members seem to have been local foreigners, presumably floating-debt holders. There is no indication, however, that the commission managed to reach any tangible results in the few weeks during which the cabinet remained in office.

Within this period of time, European powers started to resort to collective diplomatic pressure. This took the form of a move against the April Decree, using justifications that echoed the reasons given by the PDC in its protest against the program. The initiative was led by Germany.¹⁰³

See Theodore Rothstein, Egypt's Ruin: A Financial and Administrative Record (London: A. C. Fifield, 1910), 98; cf. al-Rafii, Asr Ismail, 2:229, for alternative explanations of the German lead.

On 11 May, the German ambassador in Britain attacked the April Decree on the grounds that it had come out of “arbitrary proceedings,” and claimed that it would violate the authority of the Mixed Courts if it was allowed to prevail.¹⁰⁴

Count Münster to Salisbury, 11 May 1879, PP, Egypt 3 (1879), 5.

This claim was based on the premise that arrangements affecting the rights of foreigners were legitimate only if endorsed by those courts. By implication, any unilateral act by Egypt on debt settlement—as in the program and the April Decree—should be rejected, regardless of the specific offer it involved. After conferring with other powers, Germany declared on 18 May its rejection of the April Decree, “by which the Egyptian Government at its own will regulates the matters relating to the debt, thereby abolishing existing and recognized rights.” The protest considered the decree “devoid of any legally binding effect” and held the khedive responsible for the consequences.¹⁰⁵

Vivian to Salisbury, 18 May 1879 incl., PP, Egypt 3 (1879), 8.

For a few weeks, the German protest was followed by only one similar protest, from Austria.¹⁰⁶

Ibid., 19 May 1879 incl.

Technically, it was apparently not really possible to challenge these protests on points of legality, as one can detect in a commentary in The Times. After hailing the protests as “excellent in intentions,” The Times cautioned that the adopted pretexts were problematic in two respects. First, there were no grounds to allege that the issuance of a khedivial decree contradicted the codes of the Mixed Courts. Those codes, the newspaper explained, recognized such decrees but gave a right of action to any foreign individual whose rights were injured. The protest therefore should have been suspended until it was proved that the April Decree caused such injury to foreigners. Second, protesting on the grounds of preserving creditors' rights overlooked the fact that “the rejected decree does not go so far in the repudiation of debt as did the plan which emanated from the famous Commission of Inquiry.”¹⁰⁷

The Times, 19 June 1879.

The pretexts for the German protest, therefore, could have been singularly refuted. Perhaps this is one reason that is no sign of immediate response by Sharif's cabinet to the German and Austrian move can be found. The traditional elites, it seems, still believed that these protests would lose momentum if their promises materialized with their limited deviation from the November Decree. Therefore, rather than addressing the protests directly, the cabinet continued to focus on raising funds in an attempt to meet the program's commitments.

The evidence of injury to the rights of bondholders soon came when Egypt defaulted on the 1 June coupon. This marked the beginning of the last phase of the cabinet's endeavors and was significantly colored by desperate attempts to reach some acceptable reconciliation with Europe. With carefully chosen timing, Britain and France joined the German and Austrian protests on 7 and 11 June, within a few days of the default, and were soon followed by Russia and Italy on 12 and 15 June, respectively.¹⁰⁸

Vivian to Salisbury, 19 May–15 June 1879, PP, Egypt 3 (1879), 8–11. See also Rothstein, Egypt's Ruin, 97–98; The Times, 25 June 1879.

Around the same time, however, the legal difficulties holding up access to the Rothschild loan were finally resolved.¹⁰⁹

See ibid., 25 June 1879 (report dated 16 June 1879).

It was then that this issue started to acquire the political dimension that the cabinet had feared for some time. By early April, Lascelles had already alerted Sharif to the possible blocking of these funds on political grounds. Referring to the changes brought about by the April movement, Lascelles hinted that Rothschild might decide to continue withholding its loan, since “it would not be unreasonable to entertain a doubt as to the stability of the Administration of the ceded property.”¹¹⁰

Lascelles to Salisbury, 10 April 1879, PP, Egypt 5 (1879), 114.

The cabinet had taken these hints seriously at the time, while the loan was still being withheld on legal grounds. On the same day that the April Decree was issued, Sharif called on Lascelles to assure him that “the Egyptian Government were firmly decided to carry out, in the most scrupulous manner, all the engagements that had been entered into with regard to the Rothschild loan.”¹¹¹

Ibid., 22 April 1879, PP, Egypt 5 (1879), 175, on a visit that morning.

This showed a state of mind that The Times had recorded a few days earlier when it noted that “[a]dmirers of the National Party [sic] have only one anxiety. They are afraid Messrs. Rothschild may raise a difficulty on account of recent changes”¹¹²

The Times, 26 April 1879 (report dated 20 April 1879); emphasis added.

This anxiety was justified after the legal issues were resolved several weeks later. Instead of releasing the funds, Rothschild, which now emerged as “masters of the situation,”¹¹³

Ibid., 28 June 1879.

demanded a decree declaring the Domain Authority property immune to seizure, provided that such a decree was endorsed by European powers.¹¹⁴

Ibid., 16 June, 28 June 1879.

The release of the funds was thus made conditional on the European powers' approval. It was clear by then that fulfilling the promises made in the program would not be possible without those funds. The program's viability therefore ultimately became conditioned on European endorsement of the regime. England and France refused to endorse the demanded decree on the premise of “the political aspect of the Egyptian question” and explained that they would retain that position “until a change occur[s] in the latter.”¹¹⁵

Ibid., 19 June 1879.

At that point, the cabinet took a conciliatory step. On 14 June, Sharif responded to the European protests, which by then had become full-fledged. In a letter, Sharif sought a retroactive endorsement of the April Decree.¹¹⁶

See the text in Fihrist, 101–102, and in Jallad, Qamus, 2:170–71.

As a further gesture, he promised that the Rothschild funds would be used to repay a category of European floating-debt holders who had obtained a ruling in their favor in courts of first instance, or “judgment creditors.”¹¹⁷

Jallad, Qamus, 2:170–71; cf. The Times, 25 June 1879, which alludes to those promises but does not relate them to Sharif's letter.

This might have been intended to appease some powers who had joined the German initiative, which was thought to be moved partly by the desire to protect German judgment creditors. It might not have been coincidental that, as he made this conciliatory move, Sharif also reshuffled positions in the central and provincial administrations. The new appointees included several new governors as well as a new head of accounting and weights in the Ministry of Finance.¹¹⁸

Dar al-Wathaiq, Daftar Awamir 25, p. 73, doc. 13, 22 Jamada al-Thani 1296.

Under any circumstances, seeking European endorsement for a decree that gave a formal character to the bid against European control was an incoherent step, that implicitly recognized that the traditional elites' objectives were untenable under the existing circumstances. Sharif Pasha, it seems, had already reached this realization. According to Consul Vivian's reports, Sharif had admitted to him a few days earlier that “the [April] Decree could not be maintained in face of our Protest.” Vivian then concluded that “[the] decree will, therefore, probably be withdrawn.”¹¹⁹

Vivian to Salisbury, 8 June 1879, PP, Egypt 3 (1879), 9.

Perhaps this explains why Sharif's letter was ignored in later reports by the British consul,¹²⁰

The consulted volumes of consular reports include only an allusion to Sharif's position a week before the date of his letter (see n. 119).

who must have judged that the frustration of the whole affair was a fait accompli. With European denial of the cabinet's last attempt for conciliation, the April Decree and the program's financial plan were aborted. A few days later, the powers called on Ismail to abdicate.¹²¹

The Times, 19 June 1879.

On 26 June, he abdicated in favor of Tawfiq.

Interrupted Movement and Resumption of European Order

The record of progress toward achieving the constitutional objectives of the program—namely, elaborating new parliamentary laws—fluctuated with the changes in the cabinet's fortunes as it strove to secure funds for the financial plan. That record also reflected, casually, the tension that underlay the alliance between the dhawāt and the a

yān on the issue of parliamentary reform. In forming their alliance against Europe, the traditional elites had temporarily suppressed their differences on this issue and attempted to redress it through the new balance of power prescribed in the program, which became part of the new cabinet's mandate.

Shortly after the appointment of Sharif's cabinet, the Majlis stayed in session in anticipation of draft parliamentary laws that the cabinet was supposed to submit.

¹²²

Subhi, Tarikh, 4:34.

Interestingly, Sharif offered the delegates a long break, once the dhawāt were back in control of the cabinet. The delegates, however, “in their zeal for their country's welfare … declined to take more than ten days.”¹²³

The Times, 26 April 1879.

This was the state of mind reported by The Times in April, during the early days of the movement, when its momentum carried it through initial successes. The a

yān were evidently intent on staying in session until their endeavors for a new political order came to fruition. Therefore, “[t]hey speedily re-assembled to elaborate the electoral law which is to produce such a Parliament as no Eastern country has ever known.”

¹²⁴

Ibid.

This was unlike the case a year earlier, when the members readily adjourned after a supreme order to return to their villages pending completion of budget estimates.¹²⁵

Dar al-Wathaiq, Daftar Awamir 25, p. 21, doc. 1, 23 Jamada al-Thani 1295.

Sharif's offer of a long break may partially have reflected some lack of enthusiasm on his part for that component of the program—or, possibly, a judgment regarding its priority that differed from that of the a

yān. If this was the case, it would be consistent with a position that he had expressed in a memorandum to European consuls shortly before the National Assembly was convened. At that time, Sharif supported political reform that made the khedive rule through the Council of Ministers—that is, that confirmed the August Rescript—but ignored any mention of the council's responsibility to a parliamentary body. Dominant contemporary historiography of 1879 takes such incidents as evidence against Sharif's “professed” constitutionalism.

¹²⁶

For example, see Hunter, Egypt, 223.

This is then taken as a premise to dismiss the parliamentary component of the program as mere window dressing meant to appeal to the Europeans and, consequently, to discredit the movement in its entirety. I propose that this judgment be revised. Sharif's offer to the Majlis might indicate a lack of enthusiasm or a difference in judgment regarding the urgency of parliamentary reform. In this case, it would serve as evidence for the restless alliance that underlay the movement and as a true demonstration of the type of constitutionalism that Sharif pursued as a leading symbol of the dhawāt: “an elitist variety aimed at shifting some power away from the khedive and the Europeans to the nobles,”¹²⁷

Cole, Colonialism and Revolution, 105.

as Cole rightly notes. Subsequent events in 1881–82, which culminated in a split in the ranks of that movement, lend further support to this interpretation.

The course of events in 1879, however, probably pre-empted such a split. On 17 May, draft proposals of an election law and a constituent law were submitted to the Majlis for consideration.¹²⁸

See texts in al-Rafii, Asr Ismail, 2:194–200. See also Subhi, Tarikh, 4:34–36; Isa, al-Thawra, 210–15; Schölch, Egypt, 198–200.

This was some two weeks after the cabinet had succeeded in meeting the May coupons and just one day before Germany initiated the all-powers protests against the April Decree. It might also have taken place amid the subscription drive for the Patriotic Loan. Less than two weeks after the submission of those drafts, Egypt defaulted on the June coupon. Within two more weeks, Sharif's attempt to solicit European endorsement was ignored, and the program's financial plan—from which the entire national aspiration derived legitimacy—was aborted. Shortly afterward, Ismail abdicated. A decree was subsequently issued on 6 July ending the parliamentary session, and the Majlis accordingly disbanded.¹²⁹

Al-Rafii, Asr Ismail, 2:200.

The sequence is significant: the aborting of the financial plan constituted the decisive blow for the movement; the deposition of Ismail was a subsequent symbolic gesture of failure; and the disbanding of the parliament was, by then, a foregone conclusion. Europe combated the movement by frustrating the National Program's financial plan, not by deposing Ismail. The latter step could be interpreted as a punitive act for the way Ismail readily embraced that movement, or, as Cole suggests, a step that Europe decided to take after the events in 1879 convinced them that “Ismail could no longer control the country and certainly that they could not hope to control him.”¹³⁰

Cole, Colonialism and Revolution, 209.

A few days after Ismail's deposition, there was another reshuffle in Sharif's cabinet and in provincial administration.¹³¹

See lists of appointments during 1879 in Sami, Taqwim, 1547–49.

Shortly afterward, however, a new cabinet was formed under Riyad Pasha, the only Egyptian member of the Commission of Inquiry and minister of the interior in the two European cabinets. Riyad officially confirmed that the April Decree was null and void, given the European refusal to endorse it.¹³²

Fihrist, 113.

European ministers were not reinstated, but European controllers were appointed,¹³³

Ibid., 116.

in spite of prior European rejection of Sharif's offer for this arrangement. The same day the controllers were appointed, Rothschild's demands for a decree declaring the Domain Authority immune to seizure were fulfilled,¹³⁴

Ibid., 117–18.

after political changes satisfied the English and French stance that they would not endorse such a decree until the political situation changed.

HISTORIOGRAPHICAL RELEVANCE

Two years later, another phase of protest started and developed into the Urabi movement of 1881–82. In the interim, the parliamentary project—namely, the draft proposals of 1879—remained latent until they were resurrected under Sharif's second cabinet in the earlier phase of that movement (September 1881–January 1882). The use of the 1879 drafts as a basis for Sharif's proposals at that time are among other significant similarities in the trajectory of the brief interregnum of April–June 1879 and the early phases of 1881–82. Both episodes involved an alliance that followed roughly the same configuration, even though this was incorporated into a broader front in 1881 within which the a

yān were able to acquire heavier weight at the outset.

On the role of the a

yān, see Reid, “Urabi Revolution,” 218, 226, 227, 235, 237, 238. Hunter also suggests that “[i]t was Egypt's notables [in 1881–82] who, using the officers as an instrument, had achieved real power”: Hunter, Egypt, 228.

Such similar trajectories suggest that these two episodes should be approached as successive phases of resistance by domestic forces against European penetration. The position of European powers is further evidence of this continuity. Similar to their concerted move in 1879, France and Britain joined in an ultimatum that took the form of a joint note in January 1882 to back the cabinet against the Majlis, fearing “a possible move by the delegates against the khedive.”¹³⁸

This continuity between the two movements is not itself a novel idea to Western historiography. Indeed, it was briefly suggested by Cole, who pointed out that “links were forged between the military and civilian society during the 1879 nativist movement that would reemerge two years later.”

These depictions can be gleaned from scattered allusions to the 1879 movement in ibid., 31, 106, 153, 162. Cole recognizes the differences between the dhawāt and the a

yān and states that “[for] the Ottoman-Egyptian elite the chamber of deputies constituted a largish advisory council within the executive”: see ibid., 31.

yān's petition to Tawfiq in 1881, “which stated that there could be no justice or freedom for a society unless its government was willing to listen to the peoples' representatives” or the Majlis of 1881–82.

In addition to forming a historical continuum with 1881–82, the movement of 1879 can be placed within the longer continuum of the 19th century as an outcome of several long-term processes that worked in five directions: raising the direct role and influence of the a

yān in state administration; increasing the ability of the administrative elites, the dhawāt, to move independently as the state apparatus expanded and became more articulate; consolidating property, tax, and resource privileges of large landholders from these two groups; separating their interests from those of the khedive, particularly with the erosion in his status as a patron; and creating a situation of European penetration that was “exclusivist in its approach to the local elites.”

yān.

A word is needed here on the erosion in khedivial patronage and its implications. As Hunter rightly notes, land grants acted as a binding force between administrative elites and the viceroy, with the result that, “[i]f the men of the new elite developed interests of their own, these coincided and overlapped with those of the viceroy.”¹⁴⁶

In general, this appears to be a valid depiction. It overlooks, however, the existence of that transitional stage represented by 1879 during which the traditional elites attempted to resist European penetration. This apparent oversight may result from the focus this analysis puts on the economic ties with Europe without paying attention to the impact that this had on the decline in the elites' political influence and their consequent reaction to that impact. There is no contextual or other evidence to suggest that the traditional elites took Europe as a new patron at that time.

An interesting illustration of these changes in patronage relations can be found by briefly looking into the Law of Exchange. As shown earlier, the retention of material privileges acquired under this law was a major issue of difference between the traditional elites and European control. But another dimension marked their relations with the khedive. Counting on short-term flows from that source to settle debts—the way the National Program's financial component was designed—perpetuated a logic established when the law was issued in 1871: to resort to substantial personal means in attempting to resolve the public debt crisis. It was partly through such deals that the traditional elites acquired increasing rights within the existing social order. Thus, inasmuch as the program's emphasis on al-muqābala was a stand against European control to protect material privileges, it also asserted the new balance of power between the khedive and the elites by confirming their continued contribution of the lump-sum payments stipulated in that law and, hence, emphasized their role in resolving Egypt's financial crisis. This implicit assertion of the changing balance of domestic powers in favor of the traditional elites was then explicitly expressed in the constitutional component of the traditional elites' National Program.

Interestingly, contributors to conventional historiography recognize the long-term processes that evolved through the 19th century. In various parts, they recognize the growth and increasing independence of the bureaucracy to the point of “passing from being simply servants of the viceroy to men with interests that coincided, overlapped and then conflicted with his;”

yān within the regime due both to their status as large landholders with considerable local and provincial clout and their penetration of state administration, particularly after the 1860s;

yān to a point that created “an immediate identity of interest”

How does the record of Sharif's cabinet help to revise the existing historigraphy of 1879? It could help us to approach European opposition from a different angle. As we have seen, the movement itself was not totally irreconcilable with European policies in Egypt with respect to either debt service or principles of political administration. In both areas, the National Program remained generally consistent in its financial and constitutional components with the November Decree and the August Rescript, respectively. It is important here to note a significant oversight in the conventional historiography of the program's financial plan: either based on Schölch's contention or on a comparison of that plan with the November Decree only, Hunter suggests that the plan involved a reduction in the interest rate, and then infers that this motivated European opposition to the 1879 movement on the premise that “[t]he true aim of the [European] control—regular payment of the debt at 7 percent interest—had been challenged by the viceroy's insistence that the foreign creditors accept a lower rate. This proved the signal for Ismail's removal.”¹⁵²

This inference may have been an interpretation of the German-initiated move, which, however, was based on a rejection of the program in principle, regardless of its constituent elements. Hunter's interpretation ignores the fact that the program offered a higher interest rate than that proposed by Wilson—a point implicitly noted in The Times's comment on the German move—and that Riyad's cabinet later took the step of reducing the interest rate with the full support of European control.¹⁵³

Why, then, did European powers refuse to reconcile with the traditional elites? To a large extent, the answer lies in the political significance of reconciliation, had it occurred. Had the traditional elites sustained their movement, which they initiated by expelling the European Cabinet, it would have meant a seizure of the general and financial administration of Egypt from European control. Regardless of the details or the feasibility of the National Program, the ultimate position of Europe was determined by the significance of succumbing to the initiative of the traditional elites. Allowing the traditional elites to prevail would have amounted to giving control to the dhawāt and a

yān, a dangerous matter for “our Eastern schemes and hopes.”

To counter these tools, the traditional elites could resort only to their ability to mobilize as groups using their domestic base of influence, an area in which the ayan were particularly effective. This essentially was the message that the traditional elites intended to give with their collective commitment to the program. Thus, there were clear attempts by the cabinet and the traditional elites in general to mobilize domestic funds to meet debt obligations. Although the data is very fragmented, it is possible to make some general remarks. First, those attempts were successful in the beginning, and it was possible to amass enough funds in the first three weeks to meet immediate payments. Second, given the amount of funds required, the earliest attempts seem to have focused on soliciting funding from domestic bankers rather than conventional village lenders. Third, an attempt seems to have been made to supplement the resources of domestic bankers with broad public subscriptions, reportedly under a rubric that appealed to patriotic sentiments. Fourth, it was ultimately impossible to sustain the promises in the program with the continued blocking of the Rothschild loan. To their disappointment, the traditional elites failed to prove that their collective undertaking toward the program had material credibility that could resist pressures from Europe.

EPILOGUE

Three points remain outstanding in relating the implications of this experiment to other historiographical aspects beyond 1879. As far as Egypt is concerned, the endeavors of Sharif's cabinet provide a contextual framework for concurrent notions of economic nationalism. The way the cabinet's brief tenure was dominated by feverish campaigns to raise funds, their recurrent turning to domestic private bankers, and their ultimate appeal to patriotic emotions for public subscription all indicated the need for large financial institutions that could procure and advance considerable funds. Within this context, some calls were made in April and May 1879 to establish a national bank.¹⁵⁵

On a more general level, this experiment offers a case study for European policies toward Egypt and the tactics employed to serve these policies. Two points need to be addressed here to find a general explanation. First, the movements of 1879 and 1881–82 were dominated by domestic forces that embraced different programs and positions toward Europe, yet both met with resolute European rejection. Why would both provoke such reactions in spite of apparent differences? Second, European powers adopted a common, concerted position against the cabinet, notwithstanding its conciliatory program. This was clearly a case of imperial coordination rather than rivalry. How can this be explained? The details in this record show that European policy in 1879 cannot be explained in terms of defending bondholders' interests. This explanation should therefore be dismissed. However, Ronald Robinson and John Gallagher's controversial thesis on the British occupation of Egypt in 1882 emphasizes imperial rivalry through the proposition that Britain took this step to secure control over the Suez Canal and stop French advances.¹⁵⁷

Finally, there is a yet broader comparative perspective to this study. At the beginning of the article, I outlined some tentative observations based on a first reading of the experiences of Tunisia, Hyderabad, and Ottoman Turkey. It would be interesting to test these further through a close reading into their experiences and those of other parts of the world. I have already suggested a congruent trajectory between 1879 and 1881–82 as far as Egypt is concerned. Can such congruency be established between elite movements in Egypt and elsewhere as they tried to resist, in vain, European encroachment on their lands during that deservedly “long nineteenth century?”¹⁵⁸