EGYPT UNDER ISMAIL.*
Ismail, PASHA succeeded to the throne, if it may be so called, early in 1863. His way to it had been cleared by a curious acci- dent,—the submersion of a train as it was transferred to a steam-ferry. (It was run on to the ferry, and the barrier at the other end being left open, went on into the Nile.) Aohmet, the heir, was drowned, with all but two or three of the passengers ; Ismail, who had pleaded illness and stayed at home, was left next in succession. Nothing could be better than the promise with which he began his reign. The basis of all good administration," he said, in answer to an address from the Consular Body, " is order and economy in the finances." He would have a Civil List which he would never exceed, would abolish forced labour, adopt Free-trade, set up schools, and secure the administration of justice. Every promise was broken, but the first with a completeness which made its falsehood quite unique. Not the least curious detail in the story of the financial ruin which he brought upon his country, is the fact that in his private dealings he was shrewd and successful. Mr. McCoan, indeed, once said to him, we read, that if he had been an attorney, he would have made his fortune. Ismail laughed, and said that he was flattered, but did not like it. Before his accession, too, he was frugal, even parsimonious. But power- seems to have produced what our author describes as " a. change in the economic lobe of his brain." One potent cause was that the public and private revenues were substantially the same fund. At Rome, too, under the Caesars, there was aerarium or public, and a fiseus, or private purse. But the distinction was valueless (" as if it mattered," says Tacitus of the transference of some sum from one to the other), and the confusion led all but the strongest-minded rulers into fatal extravagance. That Ismail's head was turned by this absolute power of the purse, can hardly be doubted. But his expenditure was not mere wanton waste. Personal and family ambition was the motive of much of his almost insane ex- penditure, and he can be credited with even having had some thought for the greatness of his country. He had set his • Egypt under Ismail. By J. CarMe MeCoan. London : Chapman and Rall. 1889.
heart on various objects with which these feelings had more or less to do. He desired to change the rule of succession, which hitherto had been to the oldest agnate of the house, to the ordinary European practice of primo- geniture. This concession he purchased from the Sultan
by an increase of the yearly tribute from £376,000 to £675,000, an increase which represents a capital of six millions. But this was not all that the firman. cost. Everybody who had a say in the matter had been bribed, from the Sultan, the Sheikh-ul-Islam, the Grand Vizier downwards, " at an aggre- gate cost," says Mr. McCoan, " that was probably known only to Ismail himself and to Kivork Bey, his Armenian banker in the capital." Then he wanted to be raised to the rank of Sovereign Prince. He obtained, at what cost we are not told, a firman giving him the title of Khedive, a com- promise between what he had and what he claimed, " Aziz-el- Misr," or King of Egypt. Having, in common with almost all Orientals, an exaggerated idea of the personal element in politics, he sought to further this scheme of sovereignty by a hospitality lavish beyond all precedent. This reached its climax in 1869, when the Suez Canal was opened. Well may Mr. McCoan say that in this year " the romance of Egyptian his- tory culminated," so far as this most reckless of tyrants had any- thing to do with it. It reads like a passage from a comic opera when we find that in the beginning of this year, " business was practically suspended in nearly all the Government offices in order that those of their staffs who knew French might be em- ployed in translating the Cal Grevg, the Belle Hi,Thne, the Marige de Mardi Gras, and other chefs d'oeuvres of Offenbach into Arabic, for the use of the harem ladies." In May, the Khedive gave a grand ball to celebrate his accession. One of the items of expenditure on this occasion was the throwing of a temporary bridge over the Nile, at a cost of £8,000. And then in November came the crowning splendours of the opening of the Canal. The Empress of France, the Emperor of Austria, and the 'Crown Prince of Prussia were the most notable of the guests ; but there was a multitude—amounting, it is said, to thousands —of less distinguished persons, who were entertained in a most extravagant style, £4 per diem being paid for the hotel- bills of each guest at the Canal, and £2 12s. at Cairo. The whole expenditure of the Pees came to considerably more than a million pounds. Even literature got some pickings out of this gorgeous outlay, the author of an official history of the ceremony being paid £1,000 for "copy." Doubtless Ismail fancied that by this costly outlay he was building up an absolutely independent throne. If so, it must have been a grievous disappointment when he had to sell to the Porte his new ironclads, especially precious symbols of independent power. Year after year things went on, the financial situation growing steadily worse and worse. The great Disraeli coup of purchasing the Khedive's Canal shares set him on his legs for a time ; but the end was approaching. In 1879, after a reign of sixteen years, the final blow was delivered. England and France agreed to demand his resignation. He was not unequal to the situation. He made very good terms for him- self, selected his chief favourites from his harem, put their jewellery into the most portable shape, stripped his palace of everything that was valuable (the plate was estimated at £800,000), and then received the iradg that appointed Tewfik his successor with philosophic resignation. " Raising Tewfik's
hand to his lips, he said I salute my Effendina.' He then kissed him on both cheeks, and merely adding the bare expres- sion of a hope that he would be more fortunate than his father had been, with a slight obeisance retired into the adjoining harem." Four days afterwards (June 30th) he left Egypt, it it may now be said with certainty, for ever. For some years he cherished hopes of return. Abandoning these, he charac- teristically made the best of the situation, and thanks to the ingenuity of Mr. Judge-Advocate-General Marriott, and other agencies which have never been satisfactorily explained, he contrived to capitalise his civil list of £116,000 (granted to him on his abdication) for property valued at £2,000,000. Truly a bankrupt on a throne—and Ismail was nothing else— gets a good deal more or less than justice.
The reign of Ismail was not without darker shadows than that of financial disaster. Its darkest tragedy was the end of Sadyk, who had been his counsellor and intimate friend for many years. Sadyk fell with a suddenness that recalls the overthrow of Sejanue, and probably without as much cause. Mr. McCoan's account of the event is the most striking
passage in his book. He talked, he tells us, with both Prince and Minister on the very eve of the occurrence, and he has no doubt as to what really happened. Sadyk was nominally banished to Dongola ; but he perished in Cairo within an hour of his arrest. Doubtless the story is true; but Mr. MoCoan certainly allows his antipathies to master him when he interprets Consul-General Vivian's expression that "the fall of Sadyk, however it was brought about, can only be regarded as a great public benefit," as " an apologetic gloss on a cruel and treacherous deed." The Consul-General wrote in ignorance of what had really happened. He knew that the powerful Minister had fallen, and from his point of view, was right in rejoicing at the event. And there is, again, the fallacy of identifying the fall of Sadyk with his death. It will be seen that it is necessary to be cautious in accepting Mr. McCoan's inferences and judgments; but this does not interfere with the interest of his book.
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