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There are other unhealthy influences retarding the work of the administration of the country and the progress of its people. Notable among these is the education question, or rather questions, for there are several. The system adopted in the Government schools is objected to as tending to the formation of a class separated from the rest of the people by special aims and interests, and having standards of life, of morals, of religion, entirely different from those of their own kith and kin; a class whose manners, customs, and habits are at variance with those of all their countrymen and co-religionists; a class slowly but surely drifting more and more apart from all who do not belong to it, and which is thus losing all possibility of exerting the healthy influence upon others it should be easy for them to do with the advantages they possess, or of becoming the leaven in the mass tending to raise the whole. There are men who have passed through the schools who are doing good work, but they are few in number, and the good they are doing is largely due to their having been subjected to influences counteracting the pernicious effects of their school training. A part of the evil thus charged to the schools, Government and others, is that they are destructive of the religious sentiments and aspirations of their pupils. They do not convert these to Christianity nor, as is so often said, to atheism, but they do lead them to despise the duties of their religion, to mock at its obligations, and to ignore its social and moral restraints, and thus destructive of all that goes to make the Moslem a worthy citizen and man, gives them nothing in exchange, and leaves them to go through life like wanton children drawn hither and thither by every passing whim or fancy. Is it a retribution that for the most part they go to swell the ranks of the anti-English party?

The direct result of this evil is that the whole of the people are being gradually divided into two classes – the so-called (and very much mis-called) "educated" class and the, by contrast of terms, uneducated class, the class which, by the perversity of facts, includes almost all who are really and truly educated, those who have had moral and religious training, have been taught to comprehend the most essential fact that can be taught, that every man has duties to perform, that he is not an isolated unit with nothing to think of but his own pleasure and profit, but one of the vast congregation of humanity whose members are linked together by the recognition of the obligations of their common duties to God and their fellow-men. It is true that the schools give their pupils lessons to this effect, but all the circumstances that surround the giving of those lessons and the whole tendency of the life of the schools is to render these lessons ineffective, mere tasks to be learned as part of the daily routine, pretty theories to be applauded and admired, not verities to be believed and put in practice. And since the education given in the schools is held up as the very life-blood of all progress, it follows that all that is best in the country turns aside and says, "If this is progress, then give us stagnation; if to be an 'educated,' 'advanced,' 'enlightened' man means to be a man who ridicules duty, despises religion, and mocks at piety, then, in the name of God, let us remain ignorant so only that we still worship Him, and strive as best we may to fulfil what we believe to be His law!"

Nor are the schools the only things mainly, if not wholly, due to the occupation that offend Moslem sentiment, and thus retard progress and decrease the sympathy there might be between the people and their rulers. I can only just mention two or three of these without staying to comment upon them, as perhaps the most active among many others. The sale and consumption of intoxicating drinks in the open streets, the almost unchecked promenading of brazen-faced European women in the busiest and most crowded thoroughfares; the open eating, drinking, and smoking during the Ramadan fast; quarantine and other sanitary measures frequently trenching upon Moslem sentiment, such as restrictions upon the pilgrimage and the holding of the religious festivals of the people. These things are to the Egyptian as the breaking of the Sabbath to the Scotchman. What would the Scotch Sabbatarians say if a number of Englishmen were to settle among them, and insist upon carrying on business, opening the theatres, and breaking the Sabbath in a dozen other openly offensive ways? Would they be considered "unreasonable" if they protested? Would they be regarded as "ungrateful" because they did not thank the invaders for the financial benefit they were conferring on the country? Yet when the Egyptians protest, however faintly, against such outrages upon their sentiments, they are told that they are "unreasonable," "backward," "unenlightened," "narrow-minded," and "fanatical."

There is another influence for evil to which my reference to Sabbatarianism naturally leads me – the Christian missions and their agents. Of the magnificent social and humanitarian work done by Christian missions and Christian missionaries in India no one has a higher opinion than I have. Years ago I spent a couple of days in one of the wildest parts of the Bengal Presidency as the guest of a grand old man who, with his wife – a worthy mate for him – were dwelling, as they had been for years, among the semi-savage tribes of the jungle, isolated from all the comforts and conveniences of civilisation, seeing no European faces other than their own save once or twice in the year when the Commissioner made his annual rounds. A grand old couple – labouring with endless self-devotion for the good of the stolid, stunted-brained, almost naked people, more than half savage in nature and habit, and by dint of tedious toil and never-resting effort lifting some few of these out of the depths, and winning them to humanity. I have met many men and many women in my life, but none that have claimed from me a more sincere or lasting respect than these. But there are missionaries and missionaries; and in Moslem lands there are some who do much ill, and not less by their speech than by the literature they circulate. In this they are backed up by missionary and other journals, which take a pleasure in representing Islam as a religion that inculcates bigotry and fanaticism. I have myself heard a missionary undertake to prove to Mahomedan hearers that unless they hated Christians they were no better than infidels. Taking passages from the Koran, ignoring their context and the teaching and interpretation placed upon them by the orthodox Ulema, he had little difficulty in apparently justifying his promise, with the result that some of his hearers went away filled for the first time with the conception that it was their duty to hate Christians. Such incidents are by no means rare, and it would be difficult to estimate the mischief they do. A few years ago the late well-known Canon MacColl flooded the Press at home for a brief time with speeches and writings of this kind. Every word of what he wrote was reproduced in oriental languages, and did far more to excite fanaticism than any of the most inflammatory articles that have ever appeared in any portion of the Moslem Press. How often have Pan-Islamists, advocating friendship with England and other European nations as a means of advancement for Moslems, been met with the reply, "But they themselves say that it is our duty to hate them"! So the bigotry that takes unholy pleasure in misrepresenting the truth reacts with fatal effect upon the cause it pretends to serve.

The unhealthy influences of which I have spoken so far all originate from sources outside the direct action of the Government. None the less, they are perhaps all influences that it lies within the province of the Government to correct, and so long as they are permitted to flourish so long will their existence be regarded by the people as subjects of grievance against the rulers of the land. It may be, and is, said that some of these matters are things in which it is wiser for the Government not to interfere. There is much to be said on both sides, but in all matters thus admitting of discussion there cannot be the least doubt that the deciding consideration should be the effect they produce upon the people at large. That which would be best in a country like England, the people of which have long been accustomed to look upon themselves as the final arbiters in all questions, is entirely out of place in a country like Egypt in which, almost for the first time, the people find themselves absolutely impotent to enforce their wills in any matter whatever. Under the Mamaluks, as we have seen, they had this power, and they did not lose it until Mahomed Ali had succeeded in enslaving them. If they exercised the power they possessed but rarely, to a limited degree, and mostly in a futile manner, this was largely due to the ignorance that prevailed, and to the violent methods of suppression to which their attempts in this direction were always liable. To-day the people no longer suffer from the crass ignorance of those of the past. The most illiterate peasant in the country is an enlightened man compared to his ancestor of the eighteenth century. Increased knowledge has brought, as it should do, increased desires and aspirations, and there is nothing that could testify to the sterling merits of the Egyptian character more than the fact that these desires and aspirations are such as the most enlightened cannot but approve. That the people, as a body, are not yet capable of giving their new-found ideas a healthy, practical issue without the aid of those more advanced than themselves is nothing to their discredit. The path of political progress is a long and difficult one to tread, and it is trodden most successfully by those who, like the Egyptians, advance diffidently rather than daringly, and the Egyptians have made such progress as entitles them to be heard. As yet, however, they have no adequate means of making known their views. The Press of the country is yearly filling better and better its duty in this respect, but under the occupation the true voice of the people – the Ulema, who in all times and in all countries have always been the natural and most fitting representatives of the people – has been, and is, practically silent. Among Moslems the authority of the Ulema is greater than that of the ruling prince of their country, and the Ulema, drawn from among the body of the people, have always exercised the beneficent influence Macaulay has ascribed to the Catholic priesthood, for, like it, the conditions of their existence are such that, as Macaulay expressed it, they "invert the relations between oppressor and oppressed, and force the hereditary master to kneel before the spiritual tribunal of the hereditary serf." So in the days of the Mamaluks, we see the people going for the redress of their wrongs to the Ulema, and these going to the Beys, and rarely failing to obtain some concession. Since the English occupation this primitive, but in its essentials most complete, measure of representative government, has been in abeyance.

The Ulema are no longer regarded as the spokesmen of the nation. Their voices are heard only indirectly, and then not as speaking for the people but as those of individuals. It is quite true that the people of to-day belong to a generation that has never had any experience of conditions other than those practically such as now exist; but that they do feel the need for some such system is certain, and it is their sense of this need that is giving force and body to the demand made by some of the "reformers" for the introduction of a representative government, after the pattern of those in being in Europe. For this the people have no real desire. What they want is what their ancestors had – an informal but ever-present means of making their wishes known to their rulers. No formally established body could supply their need. They have now the Legislative Council, which is intended expressly to be the voice of the people, but while, like the Press, this is yearly growing in merit and utility, it is not, and never can be, to the people that which the Ulema have been in the past, and should always be to the people of a Mahomedan country – the representatives to whom these can go at any time and in any manner to seek counsel and advice, and to consult with that they may act as their intermediaries with the administrative body of the country.

It may seem to the reader that in my last paragraph I have been wandering somewhat widely from the subject of unhealthy influences, but it is not so, for the Egyptians' sense of their inability to make their wishes known is unquestionably not only an unhealthy influence but one that is very steadily growing. The Press does much to instruct the Government as to what are the thoughts and feelings moving the people, but at best it can only do this as the Press of other countries does, rather as the expression of individuals or classes than of the masses, and while it thus acts as spokesman for the people to only a limited extent, it can never be, what is most needed, an intermediary that can not only speak for them but bring them a reply.

CHAPTER XX
MORE UNHEALTHY INFLUENCES

We come now to consider unhealthy influences arising either from the present constitution of the administration of the country or directly or indirectly from the action of the Government.

That we may understand the position taken by the Egyptians with respect to these matters, it is necessary to see what are the conditions they consider the English administrators of the country are bound to fulfil to justify official statements as to the objects and extent of the occupation. These, as seen by the Egyptians, may be summed up in one sentence and are – that the country is to be governed with due regard to the rights of the Sultan as sovereign, the religion of the people, the general interests of the country, and with a view to the ultimate independence of the native Government. On all of these points there is much dissatisfaction. Of the first two I have spoken in the last chapter. As to the third it is commonly admitted that the commercial and financial interests of the country are well cared for and administered, but the criticism is frequent that this is so, not for the sake of the country or of its people, but for the sake of the European interests involved. The Englishman's sense of, and devotion to, duty are recognised by all save perhaps a few, but the common feeling is that in Egypt this devotion is not stimulated by any feeling of duty or obligation to the country or its people, but solely by the desire to perpetuate the occupation. Englishmen of the cad type of which I have spoken, including unfortunately too many military officers and Government officials, by their behaviour towards the people do much to justify this conclusion and, if one may judge by their action in public places, even seem anxious to do so. That there are Englishmen in the country and in the Government service who are of a very different type is fully recognised, and the Egyptian is too just and too generous in sentiment to confound these with those, yet he cannot but feel that while such conduct is allowed, apparently unrestrained, and that even the men of the better type make no open protest, he can draw no other conclusion but the one that the Englishmen who really are honest in their desire to serve the country and conciliate its people are not only few in number but small in influence. It may be said that this is at most but a sentimental grievance, and that the solid good done in the country far outweighs, or should outweigh, such causes of complaint. Those who think so know nothing of human nature, and might, perhaps, benefit by studying Ruskin a little. Nor must it be overlooked that with this, as with other unhealthy influences, it is not the direct or isolated influence of each that is to be considered, but its cumulative effect as one of a large number of forces tending in the same direction. As a thousand feeble threads that an infant might snap one by one, scarce conscious of the effort it was making, when united may form a cable that will drag a mighty ship against wind and tide, so these little threads of discord united serve to draw the ship of State into troubled waters.

It is often made a subject of complaint that the Egyptian fails to appreciate the great work that has been done and is being done in the country. This is true to some, but only to some, extent. It is very much less true than it is thought to be. That the Egyptian should largely fail to comprehend the Englishman and his work is the outcome of that irreconcilability of Eastern and Western ideas and mental processes I spoke of in my first chapter. And the Egyptian, in his endeavour to understand the Englishman, has to encounter difficulties far greater than those that baffle the Englishman who seeks to understand the Egyptian. The Englishman in Egypt can, if he will, place himself more or less in direct touch with all classes of the Egyptians, and can study them at his leisure. The Egyptian has no such opportunity of studying the Englishman. He is barred from any but the scantiest and most formal social intercourse with the English, and, even in this, as in his other efforts, he is perplexed and bewildered by the ever-varying aspects the English character presents, for to the Egyptian the Englishman is a veritable Proteus, as inconstant as the unstable element he boasts of ruling. Now an Imperialist, and anon a "Little Englander"; now a courteous gentleman and again a braggart cad; now an earnest man of lofty aim and again a "flannelled fool" of witless brain; now commanding respect and esteem for his sterling qualities and again exciting contempt and censure by his ill-bred manners. And in these varying shapes and forms the Egyptian sees but little of the Englishman, and that little for the most part amidst surroundings that confuse his vision and disturb his judgment; what wonder, then, that he should be at a loss to reconcile the conflict between official statements and private views, between friendly words and unfriendly acts? Yet it is one of the most promising of auguries that, by the mere force of his own generous spirit of tolerance and his desire to be just, the Egyptian is slowly solving the problem for himself, is sifting the wheat from the chaff, learning to recognise that which is best and truest in English character and politics, to wholly despise the cad for what he is and to appreciate the manliness and merits of the self-respecting Englishman of all ranks and grades. If Englishmen in Egypt cared to do so they might easily learn so much at least of the character of the people, and would learn that the Egyptian can and does appreciate merit, that while he is ever lenient and forbearing towards the faults of ignorance, he can and does most heartily despise those of perversity of character, and that if he so constantly ignores the rudenesses to which he is subjected it is because he looks upon those guilty of them as men beneath reproach. Naturally reticent, the little familiarity he has with Englishmen makes him hesitate to speak to them with even the freedom he extends to other Europeans. How can it be otherwise when he is in constant fear, only too well justified by unpleasant experience, of the snub direct of a contemptuous or offensive response? And this evil is greatest in the official world. Egyptian "Ministers" are placed at the head of all departments of the Government, but it is the English "Adviser" who is the real "Minister." As a matter of simple indisputable fact there is no Egyptian Government in existence. This is the constant complaint of the people. The "Ministers" and the whole official world are but the obedient servants of the "Advisers," whose words are law. It is useless to tell the "Ministers" or others that their candid advice would be appreciated, valued, and possibly acted upon. That I believe is the truth, but it is most certainly the truth that the Egyptian entirely and unconditionally believes that were he to accept the assurance he receives he would find himself playing Gil Blas to the Englishman's Archbishop. The English seaman has it as the cardinal point of all his duty to "Obey orders, though you break owners." Absolute, implicit obedience to his captain's command, even if it means the immediate destruction of the ship, that is his ideal of duty, and it is the ideal that prevails among the Egyptian officials of to-day. It is said that these officials have no power of initiative, that they are incapable of justly criticising the measures and methods adopted in their Departments. Possibly those who think so would alter their views if they could hear the criticisms of these same officials when they discuss these matters in Egyptian circles; but under such a system as this it is, of course, impossible for the Egyptian to learn to govern his country on sound administrative lines. No trade, business, or profession of any kind is taught, or could be taught, in this way. You cannot make a carpenter or an engineer by putting an apprentice to watch the work of others, however expert these may be. If he is to learn, tools must be put in his hand and he must not only be shown how to use them, but must be taught why he is to use them in this or that way and in no other. And the work of governing a country can only be taught in the same way. The Egyptians see this, though it must be admitted that, like the average apprentice who has made some little progress, they are apt to overrate their knowledge and ability, and to fancy that they are quite able to act as master workmen and teachers.

No one who has any knowledge of the English seaman and his training can have failed to see that the great merit of the "Handyman," as indeed of all seafaring men, is that they are invariably taught "the reason why." In pulling and hauling on a rope, in letting it go, in holding on to it. In all these simple actions he is guided, not only by the knowledge of which is the best and most proper way to do them, but also by the knowledge of the reason why that way is the best; and with that knowledge and the mental training it gives he is ready at a moment's notice not only to pull, and haul, and let go, and hold fast, with the utmost economy of labour and the utmost efficiency of result, but to modify his method of doing any of these things to suit any possible emergency or special conditions he may have to deal with. Every seafaring man recognises that it may at any moment be a matter of life and death to him and all on board a ship that some one of the crew should have had, or should not have had, this training, and so every man on board is ever ready to help and aid in the training. Does it not seem reasonable that this same spirit should prevail amongst all who form the crew of the ship of State? That every one who has a hand in guiding or working that ship should reflect that its safety and good working are only to be secured by the intelligent efficiency of all concerned? The man who is the chief of a Government Department should, like the captain of a ship, be entitled to instant, unhesitating, unquestioning obedience from all under his command, but, having this, is it not his own interest and an absolutely necessary condition for efficient working that he should see that that obedience is based upon an intelligent comprehension of the principles by which the administration is guided? A Government that is not conducted in this way may attain for the moment good results, but it is, and can be, nothing more than a mere temporary makeshift, for it must depend entirely upon the personal qualities of the man at its head.

I have now to touch upon some matters that have attracted almost world-wide notice and have wrought much evil. Of these the first to produce a noticeably ill effect was the trial of Menchawi Pacha. Charged with having caused some men to be flogged with a view to extorting from them a confession as to the theft of a bull belonging to His Highness the Khedive, the Pacha was arrested, tried, convicted and sent to prison as an ordinary prisoner. His arrest caused intense excitement throughout the country and among all classes. During the Arabi revolt he had, with great risk to himself, given the utmost protection to Europeans of all nationalities and creeds, and had gathered all he could of these in his own palace and there guarded them in safety until the danger had passed. For the services he had thus rendered he was given the official thanks of almost all the Powers of Europe. Whatever his faults or errors may have been, he was therefore a man entitled to the most lenient judgment from all Europeans. The whole Press of the country, excepting the English organs, took up his case, and while none condoned or in any way sought to justify his offence, they all pleaded that his was a case in which common gratitude demanded mercy.

Unfortunately there was only too much to be said on the other side, and the Pacha had therefore to undergo the three months' imprisonment to which he was sentenced. The trial was intended not only to punish a case of wrong-doing, but to impress upon the people the fact that the law was strong enough to protect the poorest and weakest against the richest and most influential, and upon minor officials that no excuse would be taken for gross neglect of their duty. That the trial has largely had the desired results is certain, but two causes contributed to lessen in some degree the effect produced. In the first place the Egyptian, while accepting the theory of "even-handed justice" and "one law for all," which is, indeed, an essential part of the teaching of Islam, has so long been accustomed to see that teaching ignored in practice that he has come to look upon the strict administration of justice as an injustice, and thus clings to the old fallacy which, if I am not greatly mistaken, under English law still entitles a peer of the realm to the luxury of a silk rope should he be so unfortunate as to incur the penalty of death by hanging. The other cause sprang from the Egyptian's habit of attributing all the acts of public men to their personal feelings and desires – a vice that is a constant source of evil and one of the greatest obstacles in the way of progress, not only in Egypt but throughout the East, utterly destroying, as it does, the growth of anything like a healthy and vigorous public spirit. The vice is one not unknown in home politics, but it is there less prolific of evil, for the sterling common sense of the people teaches them to weigh acts and deeds by their intrinsic qualities and not by mere surmises as to the motives of the actors or doers. In Egypt there is, I think, a tendency towards improvement in this direction. As I have said, the people are learning to think, they are less prone to cling to the first idea that presents itself to their minds as being necessarily the first and last worthy of consideration, and they have thus made one step towards healthy progress – one, too, that must lead to others.

One and all of the unhealthy influences I have described were in force and were marring the goodwill that should exist between the two peoples, and yet, in spite of all, the Egyptians, balancing the good with the evil, buried their dissatisfaction under hopes of better days to come and a future recognition by the English of their true spirit. So evident was it that the people really desired to conciliate their rulers, to co-operate with them and accept their guidance and control in all things, that Lord Cromer announced that the time had come when the army of occupation might be safely and wisely decreased. At once a panic cry went up from a portion of the English colony. Every one in the country knew that the few who really disbelieved Lord Cromer's assurance that the measure he had proposed was a perfectly safe one, were in a hopeless minority, but there were many who, without the least sense of possible danger, had very strong reasons for opposing any reduction of the garrison. Every one who has lived in a garrison town can understand this. The withdrawal of a single battalion of English troops from Cairo or Alexandria is a very serious matter to many very excellent people and to a great many people who are by no means excellent in any sense of the word. Unfortunately for these their interests cannot be allowed to control State affairs, and these therefore swelled the chorus of alarm, probably with no thought that in doing their best to protect their own interests they were doing much ill. The Egyptians, as might be expected, received Lord Cromer's announcement with unqualified pleasure. It was the first recognition of the efforts they had honestly been making to promote goodwill and they were grateful for it, though the warmth of their gratitude was lessened by the violent opposition to the measure and the unjust and unfounded charges of fanaticism and hatred to the English brought against them. None the less Lord Cromer's action in this matter was an influence wholly for good and an influence that did more to strengthen and extend English influence in the country than the addition of an army corps to its garrison could possibly do. All then was going well. There was every possible reason to accept Lord Cromer's optimistic view of the position when the Tabah incident occurred, and, like a sudden gale, almost sundered the graft that was fast tending to unite the aims and hopes of the two peoples.

News was received in Egypt that Turkish troops had occupied Tabah, near the northern end of the west coast of the Gulf of Akabah, a post that lies well within the Egyptian frontier. To the Egyptian, however, Egypt is bounded by the Suez Canal. He knows that the Peninsula of Sinai is part of the Khedivial territory, but he takes no interest in it whatever. When, therefore, it was announced that an ultimatum had been sent to the Sultan, the one and only point that for the moment troubled the people was the possibility of a war between Turkey and England. That was the last thing that they wanted, and the gratuitously bellicose tone of the pro-English Press raised an alarm throughout the country. The people could see no excuse or reason for the peremptory demands of the English. There was no Turkish army at or near the place in dispute, and if the possession of it was really important to Egyptian interests, it was a question that might be settled by discussion and was in no sense a pressing or urgent one. Why should the English be in such a hurry to pick a quarrel with the Sultan if they had no ulterior aims in view?