Napoleon in Egypt (4 page)

According to Volney, the indigenous population consisted of poverty-stricken
fellahin
and city-dwellers living in squalid slums, a small class of wealthy merchants, and the religious community, whose senior scholars, the
ulema
, were responsible for the administration of Islamic law. The religious community centered on the Al-Azhar mosque and university in Cairo, which was a shadow of its former self: in place of the widespread learning of old there was now little more than narrow religious teaching, encouraging fanaticism amongst the young students, who had no other outlet for their intellect, or indeed social prospects, amongst a society which had fallen into decay under the near-anarchic rule of the Mamelukes. In consequence, Volney warned of the difficulty facing any invasion: “If the French dare to disembark there, Turks, Arabs and peasants will arm themselves against them. . . . Fanaticism will take the place of skill and courage.”
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Yet he was not entirely pessimistic, offering an enticing cultural prospect: “If Egypt fell into the hands of a nation interested in culture, it would yield material to further our knowledge of antiquity such as can be found nowhere else in the world.” The ruins in the Delta region were largely destroyed, “but in the less populated region of Upper Egypt and at the less frequented edges of the desert, several monuments remain intact. They are buried in the sand, stored ready for future generations to discover.” Years later Napoleon would read these words with keen interest. Indeed, his regard for Volney’s
Voyage en Egypte
was such that he took a copy with him to Egypt and used it as his constant reference work. His chief of staff, Berthier, would record that this was “the sole work that never led us astray.”

The French were not the only Europeans trading with Egypt during the years of Volney’s visit. Having made inroads into France’s empire in the Americas and India during the previous decade, the British now began to challenge French commercial dominance in Egypt. In January 1775 two British ships approached the port of Suez, one laden with merchandise, the sole purpose of the other being to lead the way into the port, taking soundings of the channel as it went. Two months later a full commercial treaty was signed between “the most serene and powerful prince Mohammed-Abou-Dahab [the ruling Mameluke sheik in Cairo] and the honourable Warren Hastings president and governor for the British nation in Bengal.”
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This was followed by the arrival at Suez of a group of British commercial agents and “geographers” (cartographers and surveyors). There could be little doubt concerning British expansionist motives, and news of these developments was quickly relayed by the worried French consul in Cairo to the foreign ministry in Paris and the Porte in Constantinople, causing some consternation in both capitals. In the following year, with the encouragement of their French allies, the Porte issued a
firman
forbidding access at Suez to ships from India.

The British simply ignored this. By now they had already established a communications link carrying messages from India to Suez, overland to Alexandria, and from here by sea to Trieste—rather than the more normal route through Marseilles—and thence to London, thus circumventing France altogether. The French consul reported that the British even had “a man called Baldwin, resident in Cairo, especially charged with overseeing this correspondence.”
⁸

During the 1780s, French traders began to suffer increasing harassment, as the authorities showed preference for the British. In fact, the Mamelukes had initially offered a trading treaty to the French, but the French government had realized that it could not sign any such treaty without damaging its close relationship with the Porte. The French traders now protested, demanding that their government take action to prevent this harassment, but once again the French government felt powerless to act as long as the Ottoman sultan remained titular ruler of Egypt. Then everything changed.

The storming of the Bastille in Paris on July 14, 1789, marked the start of a new era in Europe, heralding the French Revolution, the overthrow of the
Ancien Régime
, and the proclamation of the Rights of Man beneath the republican tricolor. But “liberty, equality and fraternity” soon gave way to the Terror, led by the fanatical Jacobin leader Robespierre, during which thousands were sentenced to the guillotine and “heads fell like slates from the roofs.” In 1794 Robespierre was overthrown and himself went to the guillotine. A reaction against such extremism saw the appointment in 1795 of a five-man Directory to rule the country; this attempted to steer a course between the Jacobins and the Royalists, but soon revealed itself as both ineffective and corrupt, working hand in hand with the profiteers who were exploiting the economic freedom following the collapse of the old system.

By now rulers throughout Europe had become fearful of French revolutionary ideas, and had sought to exploit the chaotic state of affairs which prevailed in France. As early as 1792 Prussia had invaded France; the following year Britain declared war, and France soon found itself confronted by a coalition of every major power in Europe, its borders threatened by Spain, Holland and Austria. In 1794 Britain seized Martinique, and in the following year consolidated its hold on India by taking over from the Dutch the Cape of Good Hope, which commanded the sea route to the East. In the same year the young Napoleon Bonaparte was appointed commander of the Army of the Interior and put down a revolt on the streets of Paris. A year later, in 1796, he took command of the Army of Italy, and began inflicting a series of spectacular defeats on the Austrians. Requisitioned treasure from this campaign helped to fill the depleted French exchequer, enabling the Directory to continue its ramshackle regime. With the revolutionary armies away fighting in Italy and on the Rhine, the Directory was safe. So long as the country remained at war, they would remain in power.

It was now that the idea of a French invasion of Egypt was resurrected. The man responsible for this was Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, the most able and devious politician of this devious era. Talleyrand was born in Paris in 1754, the second son of an aristocratic but somewhat impecunious family. A childhood accident left him with a limp, and instead of joining the army, he entered the Church, from which he was expelled for keeping a mistress, though his silver tongue and ready wit soon convinced the king to appoint him a bishop. By a series of characteristically deft and devious moves, he survived the Revolution and was appointed envoy to London, until he was expelled to America. After the Directory took power, he returned in 1796 to France, where he began scheming for high office, soon gaining the support of Paul Barras, the most influential (and corrupt) member of the Directory. The decisive moment came when Talleyrand delivered a paper before the prestigious Institute of France for the Sciences and the Arts (L’Institut de France) on 15 Messidor Year V (July 3, 1797).
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Entitled “On the advantages to be derived from new colonies under the present circumstances,” Talleyrand’s speech outlined before the assembled members of the Institute the case for French colonial expansion. Everyone had “long been aware that the West India colonies will one day separate themselves from the mother country. . . . Disastrous measures have carried devastation into our colonies.”
¹⁰
With some aptness, he quoted Machiavelli: “Every change lays the foundation for another.” Talleyrand admitted that what he was suggesting had earlier been proposed by de Choiseul—namely, that France should occupy Egypt. This was classic Talleyrand tactics: skilfully, he succeeded both in making his daring proposal, and at the same time placing responsibility for it with another.

It is unclear how serious Talleyrand was about the Egyptian idea at this juncture. His primary aim was to impress the audience with his knowledge of foreign affairs, and this he duly succeeded in doing. Accordingly, two weeks later he was appointed to the coveted post of foreign minister. As such, he received a letter dated September 13, 1797, from the commander of the Army of Italy; in it, he was astonished to read Napoleon’s declaration that: “We must seize Egypt. This country has never belonged to a European nation. . . . In order to take it, we would need to set out with 25,000 men, escorted by eight or ten ships of the line. . . . I would be pleased, citizen minister, if you could arrange in Paris some meetings so that I can know what the reaction of the Porte would be to such an expedition to Egypt.”
¹¹

At a stroke, an idea had taken on the flesh and blood of reality, complete with a leader.

II

“The Liberator of Italy”

N
APOLEON
has long been credited with having an “Oriental complex”: a dream of making great conquests in the East and setting up an Asiatic empire. The origins of this dream are profound and obscure. As early as eleven years old, whilst studying at the military college in Brienne, he had read of Alexander the Great and his campaign of Oriental conquest. As a result, this supreme military genius of the Hellenic world became the young Napoleon’s hero and model. Despite this precocious self-identification, Napoleon did not stand out amongst his fellow pupils. After gaining acceptance at the prestigious École Militaire in Paris when he was fifteen, he shared a desk with the aristocratic Louis Edmond Phélippeaux, who much to Napoleon’s chagrin invariably topped the class. The best Napoleon would be able to manage was third, and as a result he and Phélippeaux developed a robust rivalry, which involved much surreptitious kicking of each other’s shins beneath the desk during classes. Napoleon’s final examination report spoke of his “pride and boundless ambition,” yet his results were uneven, and only in mathematics did he shine.

Napoleon was subsequently commissioned in the artillery, considered socially inferior to the cavalry or the smart guards regiments. Yet this would prove the making of him. Artillery was becoming the key to modern warfare; it also required a knowledge of logistics and geography. Guns and ammunition came in varying strength and mobility, knowledge of terrain and weather was vital, and consequently more things could go wrong. Napoleon used his mathematical knowledge to calculate such matters mentally, and at speed. He was becoming adept (in theory) at the new kind of warfare which would supplant the incalculable vagaries of infantry deployment, the cavalry charge and the artillery barrage, with the tactics of technology and speed. As a result, he would develop an exceptional ability when confronted with a situation: he learned to consider
all
the options—not just the obvious ones—and to retain these in his mind. “Act first, and then wait to see what happens” became one of his trusted maxims. His ability to retain options that others had long since disregarded, or not even considered, would leave him master of situations far beyond the battlefield.

Young Lieutenant Bonaparte of the artillery quickly became bored with the boisterous activities of his fellow junior officers, and spent much of his leisure time reading. Science, politics, history, geography—all were grist to the mill of his avaricious mind. The only subject he balked at was philosophy; he was developing the view he later expressed as “History is the only true philosophy.” The man in command, the one who made history, was the only one whose thoughts were worth considering.

Napoleon was the second son, who even in infancy had dominated his older brother. He had won the tough love of his powerful mother Letizia, who punished his wrongdoings mercilessly when she could trick her increasingly willful child into her grasp, but who according to Napoleon “instilled in me pride.” This led to a self-belief which crossed into the superstitious: luck and destiny became tenets of faith. (Later, when he was thinking of employing a general, he would inquire: “Is he lucky?”)

Alexander the Great had set out on his conquests at the age of twenty; and in the revolutionary year of 1789, at the age of nineteen, Napoleon read for the first time Volney’s
Voyage en Égypte
, which had been published two years previously. He was enthralled, not least by Volney’s apparently prosaic, almost statistical approach to such a poetical subject. The romantic who was inspired by the deeds of Alexander and Caesar also had the mind of a mathematician. As he put it himself: “My dreams are measured with the callipers of reason.”
¹
Then in 1792, whilst on a trip home to Corsica, he was introduced to Volney, who had come to the island to buy an estate where he intended to grow cotton, much as he had seen growing in Egypt. Napoleon was delegated to show Volney around the island, and soon became fascinated by the brilliant mind of this middle-aged traveler, questioning him in detail about his knowledge of Egypt. During this brief interlude Napoleon must also have made a lasting impression upon Volney, who was quick to discern the huge ambition of the apparently insignificant young lieutenant, and would remark a few years later with some apprehension: “Given half a chance, he’ll become the head of Caesar on the shoulders of Alexander.”
²

Although Napoleon had received a military education, his wide-spread reading had led him to a belief in Enlightenment ideas; as a result, he initially welcomed the Revolution, though later events would cause him to modify his views. On August 10, 1792, he was in Paris and witnessed the mob storming the Tuileries, putting Louis XVI to flight, and then tearing the palace courtiers limb from limb. His experience of the mob led him to call them “the vilest rabble,” yet he equally despised the king for his indecision and his willingness to let himself be humiliated, declaring: “In politics an act that degrades can never be lived down.”
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