Where Ottoman History Ends and Egyptian History Begins

In 1902 (in observance of the date in the Hijri calendar) and once more in May 1905 (for the Gregorian one) Egypt's ruling family celebrated the centennial anniversary of Muhammad

Ali's inauguration as viceroy of Egypt. The celebrators, who regarded Muhammad

Ali as “the founder of Modern Egypt,” accentuated Egypt's independent position vis-à-vis the Ottomans and its gradual transformation into a separate national community. The ceremonial court rituals that once symbolized Egypt's essential bond to the sultans in Istanbul seemed to have been irreversibly erased from memory. Historiographically speaking, the celebrations also highlighted a corresponding perception of recent Egyptian history that marked the “rise” of an Egyptian political community and the “decline” of the Ottoman order—two sides of the same coin.

⁸

Journals such as al-Muqtataf and al-Hilal published a series of articles that created a generic formula for the conceptualization of 19th-century Egypt. According to this formula, until 1805 a period of oppression and political anarchy governed Egypt. Muhammad

Ali brought political stability and just government. Following that, Egypt experienced economic, industrial, agricultural, scientific, and commercial progress. The political autonomy achieved by the uncontested heroes, Muhammad

Ali and his son Ibrahim, created the infrastructure for a modern, independent Egyptian state.

⁹

In this way, 366 years of Ottoman rule (1516–1882) were ignored and gradually banished from public consciousness.

To be sure, the central figure with regard to this shift was the prolific journalist and historical novelist Jurji Zaydan (1861–1914). Zaydan's project consisted of history books, journalistic articles, and historical novels on the same historical topics with the same “lessons.” By blurring the boundaries between fiction and history, Zaydan popularized his historical premises. Although Zaydan did not dub Muhammad

Ali “the founder of Modern Egypt,” in a series of historical novels and one history book he laid the historiographical foundations (in particular, accepting 1798 as a historic turning point) that shaped this paradigm. In ta

rikh Misr al-hadith (The Modern History of Egypt [1889]), Zaydan contrasted backward Ottoman rule with revitalization under Muhammad

Ali.

¹⁰

This representation was further popularized in the novels al-Mamluk al-Sharid (The Fugitive Mamluk [1891]) and Istibdad al-Mamalik (The Mamluks' Tyranny [1896]).

Despite its growing popularity, however, this perception still had to compete with other narratives—for example, that of British officials who identified modernization with their rule alone, or of Ottoman-oriented intellectuals such as Muhammad

Abduh. Writing against the background of the celebrations, Muhammad

Abduh blamed Muhammad

Ali (“an illiterate ignoramus!”) and his successors for distracting Egypt from its path of economic and political stability, forming a tyrant regime, enslaving Egypt under foreign rule, and, in short, destroying Egypt.

¹¹

Abduh's views, however, were marginalized and seem to have disappeared nearly completely before World War I.

According to Kenneth Cuno, this “founder” paradigm perceives 1805 as the year in which Ottoman history ended and Egyptian history began (an alternative date is 1798). Cognizant of the position of post-colonial studies toward this historiographical issue, Cuno rightly considered the “decline paradigm” as an East–West “joint venture,” not as a mere imposition by the West.

¹²

Although during the past twenty-five years the “decline” paradigm has been successfully challenged, if not altogether refuted, in Egyptian historiography it still enjoys surprising persistence. Understanding this “decline” paradigm as a mere imposition of Western concepts explains very little. It certainly does not explain the complicated role played by its greatest popularizer, al-Rafi

i.

Ehud Toledano elaborates on the social and political realities that accompanied this historiographical swing. According to Toledano, “forgetting the Ottoman past” was a survival tactic employed by the Egyptian Ottoman elite to cope with the emergence of a new nationalist identity.¹³

Although Toledano focuses solely on the role of the Egyptian Ottoman elite, one should also consider the contribution of Syrian Christian immigrants who had their own historical account to settle with the Ottomans. Indeed, certain of these individuals, such as Zaydan, were pivotal in the de–Ottomanization process.

In the historiographical and political context, two major forces emerged in the post–World War I order: the monarchy and the popular parties. Although both parties accepted the “decline” paradigm, the historiographical debate was far from being a finished business. King Ahmad Fu

ad (1917–36) sought to establish an image of the monarchy as the sole force that shaped modern Egypt. The popular groups, chief among them the Wafd Party, regarded the “people”—and themselves as their true representatives—as the single force that shaped Egypt's modern history. Thus, a fierce debate ensued over the question of who was the true historical force behind the building of modern Egypt: Muhammad

Ali/the monarchy or the people? In the years to come, this concern shaped much of the historiographical landscape.

Monarchists versus Populist-Nationalists

Sami Zubaida has convincingly argued that becoming a nation-state involves a fundamental change of the rules according to which the “political game” is being conducted:

This emerging political field almost automatically excluded the monarchy and embraced the nationalist populists, who were more compatible with it. Furthermore, the premises of this field were adopted and popularized by nationalist–Pharaonic narratives, which, although focused on a remote past, highlighted the role of people and their environment rather than that of dynasties. An early explication of the populist-nationalist endeavor can be found in the work of the intellectual and liberalist politician Muhammad Husayn Haykal, who embraced the Pharaonic orientation: “[t]he birth and death of kings, their accession to the throne, their disposition, and their conquests and wars are not the basis for the life of nations.”¹⁵

Because these assumptions were widely adopted, the populist-nationalist camp did not need to write many history books. The monarchists, in contrast, faced growing pressure to produce texts of “official nationalism” that celebrated their centrality and concealed the discrepancy between the idea of the nation and that of the dynasty.¹⁶

A brief evaluation of pro-monarchist writers reveals their incompatibility with the new nationalist age and its requirements. Former court officials and members of the ruling family such as Ahmad Shafiq,

Umar Tusun, Amin Sami, and Fahmi Kaylani were an integral part of the old, and now irrelevant, 19th-century Ottoman Egyptian elite whose main language was Turkish. They had, as Toledano points out, an interest in forgetting their Ottomanness but at the same time they could not envision Egypt without the monarchy. An example is Amin Sami's monumental project in six volumes, Taqwim al-Nil (Almanac of the Nile). This work took a quarter-century to write and fifteen years to publish (1919–34). It was in such dissonance with the demands of modern nationalist historiography that Jack Crabbs classified it along with 19th-century encyclopedists.

¹⁷

In the words of Crabbs: “it was a highly heterogeneous mélange of materials ranging from the technical to historical to the poetical.”¹⁸

Amin's encyclopedic style conveyed the sense that political and social changes are incomprehensible as natural events—they simply happen. Thus, many crucial questions, such as Khidiw Tawfiq's responsibility for the British occupation, are left unresolved. A cumbersome though pro-monarchic project such as Amin's could do little to combat an effective nationalist argument. Instead, what Fu

ad wanted were narratives that exemplified continuity, coherence, meaning, and a clear supportive statement.

Cognizant of this reality, in 1917 Fu

ad proposed a prize for the best history book on Isma

il's era (1863–79). The winner was the Palestinian-born historian Ilyas al-Ayyubi, who presented Isma

il as an innovative reformer who followed in the steps of the “founder of modern Egypt.”

¹⁹

In this and other publications Ayyubi sustained the monarchic historical narrative, which had a clear point of departure: a forefather in the image of Muhammad

Ali and a seemingly self-evident continuity, with each khedive adding another layer to a grand Egyptian enterprise. The main signposts of this narrative were the struggle of the dynasty (as opposed to the “people”) against the Ottomans; military achievements in the Arabian peninsula, Sudan, Palestine, and Syria; achievements in education, science, industrialization, and commerce; the opening of the Suez Canal; and, finally, the formation of constitutional life under Khedive Isma

il.

²⁰

This narrative of perpetuation was woven around numerous monuments, public buildings, and entire cities named after dynasty members combining a series of historical events and figures into one seamlessly integrated picture with a simple message: Muhammad

Ali and his successors founded modern Egypt.

²¹

The Royal Historiographical Project

The next stage in the perpetuation of the dynasty's history involved more than a simple book-prize competition. It started in 1920 as a modest library project that turned into a vast archival enterprise. The archive venture lasted well into the 1940s and was developed in four phases. Concurrently, the monarchy continued with repressive measures, such as censorship, boycotting, and exertion of political pressure to cope with unfavorable materials.²²

In the first phase, Fu

ad summoned the Italian librarian and medieval historian Eugenio Griffini to establish a research library.

²³

By the time of Griffini's early death in 1925, the library already resembled an archive. Jean Deny, a French linguist who had mastered Ottoman Turkish, was asked to continue in that direction.

Deny is mostly identified with the second phase of the project. Under his supervision, a vast effort commenced to collect, translate (from English, Turkish, German, Greek, Russian, French, and Italian), and ship to Egypt all the available documents in foreign archives that referred to the dynasty. Deny and others were ordered to collect only documents that referred to events from 1805 forward, thus perpetuating through the archive's very structure the monarchic historical periodization. Deny was also responsible for cataloging the Ottoman documents of the citadel, to be placed in the

Abdin palace.

²⁴

In the third phase, selected documents were published so they could serve as source material for independent scholarship such as that of the emerging academe.

²⁵

Fu

ad's complete control over the Egyptian Geographical Society and its resources enabled him to use it in the publishing process.

²⁶

The court also employed translators who Arabized the collection for the convenience of scholars who could not read Ottoman Turkish.

Finally, Fu

ad sponsored a group of foreign historians to work in the archive: François Charles-Roux,

²⁷

Angelo Sammarco,²⁸

Pierre Crabitès,²⁹

Georges Douin,³⁰

Gabriel Hanotaux,³¹

Henry Dodwell,³²

and others introduced a host of well-documented studies. In their writing, some of which appeared also in Arabic, they erased Egypt's Ottoman past and placed the monarchy at the heart of the modernization process.

The originality and scope of this project raises several intriguing questions. Why did Fu

ad favor foreign rather than local historians? What were the long-term implications of this project, and who was influenced by it?

In 1925, only a few Egyptian historians were capable of such an academic effort, and they generally favored non-monarchic interpretations. The case of Muhammad Sabri, who worked in the Sorbonne under the supervision of the renowned French Revolutionary historian Alphonse Aulard, is indicative of the attitude of many young scholars who went abroad. While in Paris, Sabri worked as secretary of the Wafd and later published a series of books which conceptualized the 1919 revolution in terms of the French Revolution. The monarchy was mocked, and the Wafd/people were celebrated. Aulard praised Sabri, but Fu

ad seemed to be less enthusiastic, and the books were banned.

³³

Interestingly enough, summoning foreign scholars was not a novelty or an inappropriate act, as it was later regarded by the Nasserist regime. A significant part of the higher-education faculty was foreign. For more than thirty years, a fruitful dialogue existed between Egyptian scholars and foreign Orientalists who were regarded as “welcome intruders.” Their works were translated to Arabic, and local scholars rebutted them.

³⁴

Since Fu

ad was intimately familiar with this milieu, he hoped to replicate this interaction in the field of monarchic history, as well.

³⁵

Indeed, he was partially successful.

The importance of this project cannot be exaggerated, for it gave birth to the first catalogued archive carefully designed to satisfy the demands of modern scholarly research. The tendentious interests of Fu

ad gave birth to a new “politics of the archive” in which access to research was a stick in the hands of the ruler to insure conformity and avert historiographical surprises.

³⁶

Furthermore, the archive project created a political culture in which the “documents/past” belong to the “state” and not to the “people.” In terms of scholarship, by its very manipulative structure the archive was instrumental in erasing Egypt's Ottoman past and lending support to the “founder thesis.” Nevertheless, flawed as it was, the project introduced new academic standards that significantly influenced a crystallizing Egyptian academe.

The Academic School

The story of the academic historians and their writings has not been properly researched yet. However, due to the large number of students who subscribed to his notions, Muhmmad Shafiq Ghurbal is commonly identified as the founder of the academic school of history writing.

Returning to Egypt in 1924 after completing his master's degree under the supervision of Arnold Toynbee at London University, Ghurbal was regarded as a promising historian. By 1936, he had been nominated head of the history department at Fu

ad University, becoming the first Egyptian to hold that position. His major academic and political project was tamṣīr al-ta

rīkh—doing his best to ensure that all newly appointed faculty members were Egyptians and that Egypt's history would be written by Arabs in Arabic.

³⁷

However, the tamṣīr efforts did not prohibit academic relations with Fu

ad's foreign historians and their scholarship. Trained in Europe during the heyday of “scientific history,” Ghurbal believed that methodologically controlled research makes objective knowledge possible. Furthermore, he assumed that “truth” in history could be discovered only through painstaking archival work. For Ghurbal and his disciples, this conviction was an achievable goal, not a “noble dream.”

³⁸

It was around this notion of the historian's craft that the professional identity of academic historians crystallized. In 1945, Ghurbal established the Egyptian Historical Society and its journal, through which he promoted and institutionalized “professional” and politically impartial scholarship.

³⁹

Fu

ad's

Abdin archive was the place where this professional creed could be fully exercised.

A survey of works written under Ghurbal's supervision at Fu

ad University illustrate the scope of his cooperation with royal historiography: Ahmad

Izzat

Abd al-Karim wrote Ta

rikh al-ta

lim fi

asr Muhammad

Ali (The History of Instruction in Muhammad

Ali's Era [1938]); Ahmad Ahmad al-Hitta composed Ta

rikh al-zira

a al-misriyya fi

asr Muhammad

Ali (The History of Agriculture in Muhammad

Ali's Era [1950]);

Ali al-Jiritli published Ta

rikh al-sina

a fi misr fi al-nisf al-awwal min al-qarn al-tasi

Ashar (The History of Industry in Egypt during the First Half of the Nineteenth Century [1952]); and Jamal al-Din al-Shayyal concluded his Ta

rikh al-tarjama wa al-haraka al-thaqafiyya fi

asr Muhammad

Ali (The History of Translation and the Cultural Movement in Muhammad

Ali's Era [1951]). All of these scholars worked in the

Abdin archive, consulted the works of foreign historians, reacted to those works, and, for the most part, (with the exception of al-Shayyal) accepted their assumptions and methods, including the “decline” paradigm. Hardly any of these young historians mastered Ottoman Turkish, which in any case was not taught at the university. The cooperation was so tight that after graduation some of Ghurbal's students became archivists at

Abdin.

⁴⁰

Although Ghurbal's career illustrates his own biases with regard to the Ottoman past

⁴¹

and monarchic history, in today's Egypt he is considered the founding father of the “academic school,” which is contrasted with the “amateurism and bias” of independent historians such as al-Rafi

i.

⁴²

With this background in mind, we can now turn to discuss the work of al-Rafi

i.

II. INTRODUCING AL-RAFI

I'S NATIONAL EPIC

Strongly socialized into the turn-of-the-20th-century nationalist movement, one may recognize in al-Rafi

i's work the particular ideological and political influence of the National Party. It was a volatile and lively environment eager to promote national change on all possible fronts. Some of the most prominent members of this milieu, such as Mustafa Kamil, also began to write history. Other history writers were lawyers, publishers, editors, and political activists who participated in journalistic and editorial writing.

⁴³

The primary motivation of these history writers was the necessity for political relevancy. These works served as a vehicle for socializing, indoctrinating, and conscripting members to the nationalist cause. After several years of activity, the language, rhetoric, and assumptions employed by these writers began to sink in. Al-Rafi

i was a genuine disciple of this milieu and an ardent follower of his mentors in the National Party, Muhammad Farid and Mustafa Kamil.

To be sure, the central characteristic of al-Rafi

i's project is its monumental and inclusive overview of modern Egyptian history. No other work suggested to Egyptian readers such a powerful and easily grasped account of their recent past. By discussing the evolution of al-Rafi

i's work in a book-by-book format, I hope to underscore this point.

Ta

rikh al-Haraka al-Qawmiyya, vol. 1 (1929)

In 1926, when al-Rafi

i began working on this book, he quickly realized that his project would cover the whole history of modern Egypt, from Muhammad

Ali to the present. Though he began with the modest intent of writing a biography of Mustafa Kamil, he soon understood that he must undertake a broader task: to search for the roots of the nationalist struggle.

⁴⁴

Thus, al-Rafi

i's point of departure was 1798, the day Napoleon first stepped on to Egyptian soil. To the Ottomans al-Rafi

i dedicated only one short and insignificant chapter in that he downplayed their historic role.

⁴⁵

Periods and events that preceded Ottoman rule, such as the Mamluk and Pharaonic era, were not even mentioned.⁴⁶

In the words of al-Rafi

i, all events prior to 1798 belong to an era of “nationalist jāhiliya.”

⁴⁷

By adopting this periodization, al-Rafi

i accepted the basic feature of the “decline” paradigm. Although he was probably not the first to adopt this view, al-Rafi

i was certainly the first to systematize and popularize it in a populist-nationalist vein.

According to al-Rafi

i, the French invasion was the continuation of Western Crusader aggressiveness against Egypt.

⁴⁸

In contrast to Zaydan, al-Rafi

i was not willing to consider any positive aspects of the French expedition. As in previous failed attempts, the French had to face the fierce resistance of the Egyptian people. The revolutionary character of the people—and hence, Egypt's resistance to any foreign rule whatsoever—as regarded by al-Rafi

i as a self-evident metaphysical force, a force that governed al-Rafi

i's entire project.

In the first volume, al-Rafi

i drew an analogy between the struggle against the French and the 1919 revolution against the British.

⁴⁹

This popular struggle started as the French troops approached Alexandria. The confrontation between the inhabitants of Alexandria, headed by Muhammad Kurayyim (Alexandria's Naqīb al-Ashrāf), and the French forces was regarded as an indication of Egypt's nationalist and revolutionary nature. Al-Rafi

i emphasized that it was the people and its leaders, rather than the Mamluks, who organized the opposition to the invaders.

⁵⁰

The military opposition to the French also continued after the arrest of Kurayyim. Although praised by Napoleon for his bravery, Kurayyim refused to cooperate with the French and was therefore executed.⁵¹

This populist-nationalist interpretation presented Kurayyim as the first revolutionary martyr who chose death in the face of humiliating surrender.

Al-Rafi

i presented the story of the French presence in Egypt as a detailed account of an uncompromising popular struggle. The various skirmishes, incidents, and clashes were treated as the outcome of this inherent nationalist consciousness. The “first Cairo Revolution” was a classic example of how the nationalist spirit functioned.

⁵²

Although al-Rafi

i's 400 pages are highly detailed, his basic argument is rather simple: all was to be explained as the outcome of nationalist revolutionary consciousness, popular forces, and heroic leaders. From the first volume, the nationalist factor and its agents are the central thread that runs through the fabric of Egypt's modern history. This historical anachronism continued to govern his entire work.

Ta

rikh al-Haraka al-Qawmiyya, vol. 2 (1929)

Two major episodes are dealt with in the second volume: the “second Cairo revolution” leading to the withdrawal (al-Jalā

) of the French forces,

⁵³

and the “popular revolution” against the Ottoman wali and the appointment of Muhammad

Ali.

Al-Rafi

i presented the “second Cairo revolution” as an evolutionary continuation of the first revolution. Both contributed to the formation of the nationalist factor (al-

unṣur al-qawmī), which embraced the inhabitants of Cairo, including the Mamluk forces. As in volume one, the critical historical phenomenon is the rise of the Egyptian people, who drove the French from the country.

⁵⁴

The outcome of this popular success was the appointment of Muhammad

Ali to the governorship of Egypt by the people themselves.

In the aftermath of French withdrawal, an authentic popular leadership, headed by

Umar Makram, was formed. Makram, functioning as Cairo's Naqīb al-Ashrāf, along with other religious leaders, took an active part in resistance to French occupation. These leaders gained their status through their talent, character, and activities. They were appointed by the people. According to al-Rafi

i, the importance of popular leadership was twofold: its social and religious structure reflected the continuous presence of popular leadership in Egyptian history (as in 1882 and 1919), and this leadership was responsible for the appointment of Muhammad

Ali as governor.

Al-Rafi

i's account of Muhammad

Ali's appointment is that of a coalition between him and the nationalist leadership. Unlike the Ottomans, Muhammad

Ali acknowledged the importance of the nationalist factor and chose to join forces with it.

⁵⁵

Next, Muhammad

Ali used this coalition to drive the newly appointed Ottoman wali, Khurshid Pasha, out of Egypt. This step was the outcome of Muhammad

Ali's conviction that he would “not seize power by the force of his soldiers but only by that of the people.”

⁵⁶

The popular leadership guided, directed, and realized the appointment of Muhammad

Ali, who “was appointed by the will of the people.”

⁵⁷

Al-Rafi

i's interpretation of Muhammad

Ali's seizure of power was a historiographic novelty. Until then, no Egyptian historian had dared to claim that the forefather of the monarchy was a mere tool in the hands of indigenous nationalist forces. By emphasizing the role of

Umar Makram, the catalyst for the election of Muhammad

Ali, al-Rafi

i contradicted the pro-monarchic interpretation. Furthermore, for al-Rafi

i, Makram embodied the revolutionary nature of the Egyptian people as a whole.

⁵⁸

In sum, the first two volumes of this project brought into focus a series of historical concepts: “the people,” “hero,” “enemy,” and the “nationalist factor.” Pro-monarchic concepts such as “dynasty,” “monarchy,” and, especially, religion did not play any significant role in al-Rafi

i's story.

Asr Muhammad

Ali (1930)

This book was published in 1930, when Muhammad

Ali was at the heart of the historiographical consensus. Al-Rafi

i, however, did not join this consensus, preferring instead to present the successful role of Muhammad

Ali as the work of popular forces. Right from the beginning of his account, al-Rafi

i underscored the compatibility and unity of the nationalist element with the rule of Muhammad

Ali. According to al-Rafi

i,

Umar Makram's popular leadership cooperated with and protected Muhammad

Ali's rule. Similarly, without the active support of the people against the British fleet at Rashid and other places, Muhammad

Ali certainly would have have lost his position.

⁵⁹

Muhammad

Ali's decision to exile

Umar Makram and the massacre of the Mamluk forces at the citadel were regarded by al-Rafi

i as nothing short of betrayal.

⁶⁰

However, al-Rafi

i's treatment of Muhmmad

Ali's career and that of his son Ibrahim was slightly ambiguous.

⁶¹

On the one hand, al-Rafi

i presents Muhammad

Ali as a mere instrument in the hands of popular forces, while on the other hand, he dedicates hundreds of pages to discussing the achievements of Muhammad

Ali's policies. Thus, for instance, opposition to foreigners, political and economic autonomy, and territorial independence were the result of successful policies of Muhammad

Ali (the lack of constitutional life in that era stands as an exception). Particularly, al-Rafi

i was impressed by Muhammad

Ali's refusal to grant the Suez Canal concession to the European powers and his stubborn resistance to offers of Western financial assistance. Taking the book in its entirety, the reader cannot tell what was the work of the people and what was the result of Muhammad

Ali's actions. To be sure, however, by accentuating the achievements of Muhammad

Ali, al-Rafi

i certainly wanted to allude to the failures of his successors who subjected the country to the rule of foreign authority.

⁶²

Interestingly, al-Rafi

i's view of this period positioned him in a sharp opposition to Ghurbal. Whereas al-Rafi

i maintained that “Egypt created Muhammad

Ali,” Ghurbal insisted that it was “Muhammad

Ali [who] created modern Egypt.”

⁶³

These differences were not symbolic. Ghurbal, who two years earlier had published a work on the same period, completely ignored the “Cairo revolutions” and the role of the popular leadership in opposing the colonizer. In the words of Youssef Choueiri, “Ghurbal has a story to tell. It is dominated by a single hero, Muhammad

Ali. All the others are either villains, ignorant, or simply unlucky.”

⁶⁴

Al-Rafi

i had a story to tell, as well. A single collective hero, the Egyptian people, dominated it. All the others were mere decoration, insignificant ornaments to the true historical forces. Ghurbal argued that conditions prevailing in early-19th-century Egypt would have prevented the development of a national entity. Hence, he saw al-Rafi

i as anachronistic. Al-Rafi

i, by contrast, pinpointed the birth of Egyptian nationalism in this very period. A decade later, Ghurbal updated his view: “Muhammad

Ali began, lived, and ended his life as an Ottoman. His mission, as he defined it, was to revive Ottoman power and dress it in a new costume.”

⁶⁵

However, the rift between Ghurbal and al-Rafi

i went far deeper than the issue of Muhammad

Ali's role in history; it delved into questions of source material. Ghurbal's work reflected extensive archival work. Al-Rafi

i, in contrast, drew on secondary sources for remote periods and newspapers and personal connection for contemporary events. His success prompted Ghurbal to take action. In Muhammad

Ali al-Kabir, Ghurbal tried to popularize the insights of his students who worked in the archive. He was eager to prove that serious scholarship could also be relevant and popular. As is often the case among scholars, these disagreements soon developed into overt rivalry. Hence, Ghurbal and his disciples in the newly established Egyptian Historical Society banned al-Rafi

i. At one point, just to underscore that things were indeed personal, Ghurbal insinuated that al-Rafi

i was a mere “lawyer.”

⁶⁶

Asr Isma

il, 2 vols. (1932)

In 1932, al-Rafi

i published his account of the reign of

Abbas, Sa

id, and Isma

il. This book marked a turning point in his relationship with the monarchy. As already mentioned, the writing of history in this era was regarded as a highly sensitive matter. As opposed to other voices in Egyptian historiography, al-Rafi

i's message with regard to

Abbas, Sa

id, and Isma

il was sharp, clear, and harsh. What other historians gently alluded to al-Rafi

i dared to say out loud:

Abbas, Sa

id, and Isma

il were responsible for the fiscal collapse of Egypt and its growing subjugation to Europe. Fu

ad, then in the midst of his corrective historiographical effort, reacted to these charges in a swift and harsh but not uncharacteristic way. A short while after the publication of

Asr Isma

il, the Ministry of Education was asked by the court to prohibit public libraries and schools from using the book.

⁶⁷

Eight years later, the court tried to win al-Rafi

i's sympathy by granting him access to the archive from which he had been expelled. In return, al-Rafi

i was supposed to amend his views. He turned the offer down.

⁶⁸

In volume one, Al-Rafi

i titled the

Abbas era the “age of reaction.” It was during this period that the nationalist momentum came to a full stop. Academic institutions were shut down; reforms in the army were suspended; vocational-training delegations were asked to return to Egypt; and industry collapsed.

Abbas's constructive initiatives, such as the Alexandria–Cairo railway, were severely criticized for relying on Western intervention. The historic reason for this failure was, according to al-Rafi

i,

Abbas's weak, conservative, and incapable personality.

⁶⁹

Regardless of his real worth,

Abbas's image as a royal wimp was popularized thanks to al-Rafi

i, while monarchic historians remained mute on this issue as well as on that of the heritage of Sa

id.

Al-Rafi

i's treatment of Sa

id's reign was ambivalent. Though conducting extensive reforms, Sa

id opened the door to unprecedented foreign intervention. In particular, al-Rafi

i criticized the Suez Canal concessions and Sa

id's use of foreign loans.

⁷⁰

Deterioration that had begun under Sa

id continued under Isma

il. Al-Rafi

i referred to all of these (negative) trends as the “Isma

il era,” about which he wrote:

In volume two of

Asr Isma

il, al-Rafi

i drew readers' attention to two key episodes in the Isma

il era: the collapse of Egypt's fiscal system and the fate of its “constitutional life.” However, although highly critical of Isma

il, al-Rafi

i also identified some positive developments, such as the “revival of women.”

⁷²

Al-Rafi

i's analysis of Egypt's financial difficulties was simplistic and demagogic. According to his reasoning the cause of Egypt's bankruptcy was Isma

il's prodigality: lavish journeys to Europe, glamorous receptions, extravagant festivals, and the building of numerous immoderate mansions and palaces. Other economic, political, and social factors were conspicuously ignored. Al-Rafi

i's financial calculations seem problematic, if not totally groundless.

⁷³

In any case, they supported his main thesis in a very effective and persuasive way. Apart from Isma

il's habit of spending money, he was depicted as an incapable and naive manager who sold the Suez Canal at a bargain price and thus provided the British with the ultimate excuse to conquer Egypt.

⁷⁴

In the years 1930–32, a fierce anti-constitutional movement began, headed by Prime Minister Isma

il Sidqi and actively supported by Fu

ad's court. The suspension of the 1923 constitution and Parliament were engraved on Egypt's collective memory as acts of sheer despotism. In the midst of this political upheaval, al-Rafi

i dedicated his time to the writing of constitutional history under Isma

il. Thus, this work was among the most daring political statements of the time. For while ostensibly a mere historical composition, in reality it openly subverted and severely criticized authority.

Al-Rafi

i's version refuted the monarchic narrative by presenting constitutional reform as the outcome of an intimate relationship between the nationalist movement and constitutional principles. Isma

il's Parliament was passive and incompetent and lacked any judicial power. Hence, it failed to prevent the financial fiasco and succumbed to Isma

il's tyranny (istibdād) and absolute rule (ḥukum muṭlaq). Then, continued al-Rafi

i, in 1876 the popular forces transformed the Parliament into an active, assertive legislative body.

⁷⁵

In al-Rafi

i's view, the demand by popular forces for the introduction of a type of proto-constitution was an indication of the revival of the nationalist spirit.

⁷⁶

When Isma

il finally capitulated and agreed to implement this ideal in the form of the Sharif Pasha government, al-Rafi

i contended that Sharif Pasha was the forefather of constitutional life in Egypt.

⁷⁷

Again, al-Rafi

i brought a relatively unknown figure to the fore and presented him as a popular hero who embodied the national spirit and its historical ambitions. Likewise, Isma

il was presented as a marginal figure guided by Sharif Pasha. Moreover, al-Rafi

i accentuated Isma

il's responsibility for the establishment of the Mixed Courts, which were regarded at the time as institutions that perpetuated colonial injustice.

⁷⁸

Thus, we see that

Asr Isma

il was a carefully constructed political statement. The timing of publication, the sensitive issues it dealt with, and especially its controversial and categorical conclusions made the book indigestible to those in power. To cite just one final example, al-Rafi

i writes:

Why was this statement political? Like his predecessors, Fu

ad was part of this categorization. His Turkish was far better than his Arabic; Turkish was the language of his court; and, in fact, he would even have preferred to have been king of Albania.

Al-Thawra al-

Urabiyya wa al-Ihtilal al-Inglizi (1937)

In relation to the rest of his series, this book stands as an exception because it is the only one that he was forced to rewrite. Thomas Mayer, who studies the place of the

Urabi revolt in Egyptian historiography, has convincingly demonstrated that until 1922 the revolt was perceived as a mutiny (

iṣyān) that led to chaos (fitna).

⁸⁰

Not only did the monarchy identify the revolt as a dangerous precedent for a military coup d'état, but nationalist circles were also critical of it, having witnessed the defeat at al-Tal al-Kabir. A fierce critic of the revolt was Mustafa Kamil, who argued that it divided the people and led to the British occupation.⁸¹

As early as 1909, al-Rafi

i identified with this view and attacked

Urabi.

⁸²

In 1937, al-Rafi

i claimed that the

Urabi revolt was yet another popular revolution.

⁸³

In conformity with his central argument, a direct and invisible cause—the revolutionary spirit of the people—linked these revolutionary events and tied them together. According to al-Rafi

i, the goals of the revolt were just: saving the people from autocratic rule, the establishment of the constitutional system, and the prevention of foreign intervention.

Although the revolt was just, it utterly failed. Al-Rafi

i cast the blame for the failure on the army and on Khidive Tawfiq, the former because they abused the power granted to them by the people, and the latter because Tawfiq cooperated with the British.

Urabi was presented as a weak and impulsive military leader who deserted the nationalist movement at a decisive moment. Hence, the defeat in battle was moral as well as military. According to al-Rafi

i, the military defeat paralyzed the national movement and facilitated Egypt's capitulation to the British.

⁸⁴

Toward the late 1940s, however, other nationalist writers mythicized

Urabi and attacked al-Rafi

i for his biased views.

⁸⁵

Al-Rafi

i, who thus far was always in the forefront of nationalist historiographical changes, was forced to reappraise

Urabi's legacy. Thus, in January 1952 he published his new account of the events in the form of Al-za

im Ahmad

Urabi (The Leader Ahmad

Urabi). Although many of the themes of the 1937 edition repeated themselves, in this book,

Urabi was portrayed as a war hero who was undermined by “external forces.”

⁸⁶

Thus,

Urabi joined the gallery of popular heroes and martyrs whose original curator was al-Rafi

i. The previous views of Mustafa Kamil, and those of al-Rafi

i himself, were deserted, with no apparent explanation. The monarchy, for its part, decided to ban the book. A few months later, the revolution occurred, and al-Rafi

i's account was immediately released and sold out.

⁸⁷

Misr wa-l-Sudan fi Awwal

Ahd al-Ihtilal 1882–1892 (1942)

The ten years discussed in this work, from the British occupation to the beginning of Mustafa Kamil's public activity, were characterized as an era of decadence. Al-Rafi

i painted a gloomy picture in which national pride was humiliated by British occupation and the indigenous elements that had collaborated with it. As a result, the ability to act was curtailed, and no oppositional activities emerged.

⁸⁸

The most significant marker of Egypt's helplessness was the separation of Sudan in 1899. During that period, Egypt, he claimed, lost critical elements of its national sovereignty: an independent army, political autonomy, and even constitutional order (parties, elections, Parliament, and the like). Written during the growing anti–British atmosphere of World War II, this book is one of the strongest anti-colonial texts to have appeared in that period. Egypt, al-Rafi

i concluded, had been continually exploited, its natural and human resources exhausted, and the country did not gain from British presence any benefit whatsoever.

⁸⁹

Thus, al-Rafi

i formulated a counter-argument that came to contradict the typical colonialist argument for material progress and modernization.

Although it was published only three years after his book on Mustafa Kamil, through this work al-Rafi

i laid the groundwork for the “big bang” of Egyptian nationalism—the appearance of Mustafa Kamil in national politics.

Mustafa Kamil: Ba

ith al-Haraka al-Qawmiyya (1939)

So far I have distinguished between monarchic and populist-nationalist historiography. However, the populist-nationalist school was not uniform as one might think. In the early 1930s, a fierce competition for the commemoration of national leaders began as each party mythicized its own members. In particular, the competition was over the commemoration of Sa

d Zaghlul of the Wafd and Mustfa Kamil and Muhammad Farid of the National Party. In 1936, the public intellectual Mahmud

Abbas al-

Aqqad (1889–1964) published the biography of Zaghlul, and in July of the same year, a neo–Pharaonic granite mausoleum was built to commemorate him. Al-Rafi

i played a major role in this rivalry.

⁹⁰

His struggle to have a similar mausoleum built for Kamil, as well as his biographies of Kamil and Farid, should be read first and foremost against this background.

In al-Rafi

i's own words, Mustafa Kamil is nothing less than the “Christopher Columbus” of Egyptian nationalism.

⁹¹

It was Kamil who revived the national dynamic that culminated in the 1919 revolution. Al-Rafi

i's message was clear: without Kamil and his political party, Egypt would never have won its independence.

⁹²

The central topic of the book was Kamil's political legacy as it was understood, elaborated, dogmatized, and propagated for more than thirty years by al-Rafi

i and other party members, such as Fathi Radwan. Hence, all those who aided and supported Kamil, such as Khedive

Abbas II, were marginalized.

⁹³

The following is a list of the six most important principles laid down by Kamil and the National Party: (1) the immediate and unconditional withdrawal of all foreign forces from Egyptian soil—this principle was abridged as the demand for al-jalā

; (2) continuous struggle (jihād) against all forms of occupation, whether military, economic, or cultural—a struggle that, according to Kamil, should be perpetrated through journalism, education, political organizations, and the like;

⁹⁴

(3) constitutional life (al-dustūr) should stand at the center of Egyptian public life;⁹⁵

(4) affinity to the Ottoman Empire. Kamil's legacy could not resolve the contradiction between a distinctive Egyptian nationalism and Pan-Islamic affiliations. In this book, al-Rafi

i tried to conceal this contradiction by arguing that Kamil's priority was first fighting the British, then separating from the Ottomans;

⁹⁶

(5) the unification of Egypt and Sudan (wiḥdat wādī al-Nīl);⁹⁷

and (6) national unity. Despite Kamil's Islamic political thought, he stressed that Egyptians belonged to one nation, whether they were Copts or Muslims.⁹⁸

These notions, principles, and beliefs guided not only the National Party but also, as has been made clear, al-Rafi

i's entire project. Seen in this light, the Kamil era brought to a close a period of unorganized nationalism. Out of the despair of previous years emerged a new, self-confident movement that was ready to challenge the British.

Muhammad Farid Ramz al-Ikhlas wa-l-Tadhiya (1941)

While continuing to narrate the history of Egypt through the narrow prism of the National Party leadership, this biography covered the years 1908–19. The distinction between the historic national movement and the National Party became vague, to the degree that the two appeared synonymous. Correspondingly, the principles introduced by Kamil and the National Party ideology were depicted as those of the Egyptian “people” as a whole.⁹⁹

This focus has little to do with monarchic historiography. In fact, it represents the ongoing struggle within the populist-nationalist camp for historiographical hegemony. The main issue up for debate was: who deserved the most credit for the 1919 revolution and the independence that followed it?

Two main themes characterize the book. First, the National Party led the people to the 1919 revolution. Second, the jarīda-umma group—especially Sa

d Zaghlul—collaborated and identified with the British. Moreover, al-Rafi

i argued that the jarīda-umma group, the court, and the British encroached on the National Party and its leaders.

¹⁰⁰

Thawrat Sant 1919, 2 vols. (1946)

After Kamil and Farid had prepared the ground, the last modern revolution in Egyptian history was launched. Al-Rafi

i tried to evaluate whether the revolution was a success or a failure.

¹⁰¹

In line with his general attitude, he also tried to assess the contribution of various political groups, including the monarchy, to the revolution's success.

According to al-Rafi

i, the long-term causes for the outbreak of the revolution originated in World War I. In particular, he identified an atmosphere of military suppression, encroachment on constitutionalism and political freedom, and the deposition of the first nationalist khedive,

Abbas II.

¹⁰²

More direct and immediate causes were the formation of the Wafd and the arrest of Zaghlul, who headed it. Once begun, the revolution followed the pattern of earlier revolutions: it spread to the countryside and encompassed all social classes and groups, including women.¹⁰³

Al-Rafi

i's emphasis on women's participation was part of a growing acknowledgment of their role in the nationalist struggle initiated by Muhammad Sabri. Writing in the same period, Sabri cast the wife of the Wafd's vice-president as Delacroix's Liberty Guiding the People.

¹⁰⁴

Al-Rafi

i also highlighted the violent nature of this revolution, from which he falsely claimed to exempt himself.

¹⁰⁵

He concluded Thawrat Sant 1919 by arguing that the success of the revolution was partial. Although it succeeded in its moral, social, and, to some degree, political aspects (notably the constitution), it completely failed to secure Egypt's full independence. Hence, al-Rafi

i perceived the revolution as an “unfinished revolution.”

In 1947, 1949, and 1951, respectively, al-Rafi

i published the last three volumes of his project, titled Fi a

qab al-thawra al-Misriyya. Thus, by the eve of the revolution al-Rafi

i's entire historiographical series covering the history of popular revolutionary spirit from 1798 to 1952 was ready. In the formative stages of the revolution, when the Free Officers were in dire need of a story that would explain their role in history, al-Rafi

i was there to contribute his skills and perception. These were fully accepted and even celebrated, and his monumental project was reformulated into a compact high-school textbook edition.

¹⁰⁶

The Free Officers now presented themselves as continuing the popular struggle begun in 1798. Their job, as they themselves came to see it, was to conclude the “unfinished” 1919 revolution.¹⁰⁷

Hence, Muhammad Kurayyim,

Umar Makram, Ahmad

Urabi, Mustafa Kamil, Muhammad Farid,

¹⁰⁸

and now Muhammad Najib¹⁰⁹

were all part of the same revolutionary genealogy. In Najib's words, “[al-Rafi

i's books] serve as the basis for the military movement and as nationalist ammunition for the nation as a whole.”

¹¹⁰