Napoleon in Egypt (40 page)

There can be no doubt that Napoleon actually saw at least one verson of this
firman
. According to Nicolas Turc, “The general-in-chief [Napoleon] had a copy of this
firman
and it was equally known to the
ulema
of the Divan and the inhabitants of the provinces.”
²⁷
Napoleon himself, in his not always reliable memoirs, confirms this by describing a plausible incident: “Djezzar dispatched to Sheik El-Sadat the
firman
which contained the declaration of war from the Sultan against France. Napoleon went to dine with the sheik. When Napoleon found himself alone with the sheik, he commanded him peremptorily to hand over to him the original of the
firman
. El-Sadat denied having knowledge of it, hesitated, contradicted himself, and finally handed it over.”
²⁸

Despite such evidence, Napoleon persisted in maintaining that this
firman
was the work of Djezzar and Ibrahim Bey, who were hell-bent on stirring up trouble for the French in Egypt. Whether at this late stage he actually believed this, or simply maintained it to suit his own purposes, is not known. Either way, as late as mid-November he wrote firmly to Djezzar, “I do not wish to make war with you if you are not my enemy, but it is time that you explained yourself. If you continue to give refuge to Ibrahim Bey on the borders of Egypt, I will recognize this as a mark of hostility and will march on Acre.”
²⁹

The fearsome Djezzar was not used to being treated in this fashion, but instead of acting impulsively he chose to bide his time. Perhaps inevitably there were several versions of the sultan’s
firman
in circulation, and one of these promised Djezzar: “Ships as tall as mountains will cover the surface of the seas. Cannons that produce lightning and thunder, heroes who despise death for the sake of victory in the cause of God . . . will arrive to chase out the French.”
³⁰
Djezzar was confident that victory would be sweet and certain when the time came.

Early in December, Napoleon decided to make a last concerted effort to resolve matters by sending to Constantinople Citizen Joseph Beauchamp, the French diplomatic representative at Muscat on the Persian Gulf, who had arrived in Cairo some weeks earlier. Beauchamp was a man of considerable intellect and experience. Besides being a noted astronomer, he had also explored throughout the Levant and the Black Sea region, and had resided in Constantinople for several years. To the grand vizier Napoleon wrote: “Beauchamp will make known to Your Excellency that the Porte has no more true friend than the French Republic.”
³¹
Privately he instructed Beauchamp: “If ever you are asked the question: ‘Would the French consent to leave Egypt?’ reply, ‘Why not?’”
³²
Napoleon had no intention of acting upon this: it was simply a bargaining position, allowing him time to pursue other avenues. At the same time as offering to give in to Constantinople, he also had in mind the possibility of marching on the city! On December 11, the same day as he wrote to the grand vizier and gave his instructions to Beauchamp, he also wrote a note to Talleyrand, in the expectation that he must at last have arrived in Constantinople to open negotiations with the Porte: “I have sent to Constantinople Citizen Beauchamp, consul at Muscat, so that he can tell you of our situation here, which is extremely satisfactory, and also, so that he can insist, in concert with you, upon the release of all French citizens arrested in the ports of the Levant, and put an end to the intrigues of Russia and Britain. . . . Citizen Beauchamp will bring you by word of mouth all the details and all the news of interest to you.”
³³

This is a telling statement. If Napoleon’s intelligence had informed him that the French throughout the Ottoman Empire were being held in prison, and that both Britain and Russia were in league with the Porte, then he must have known that the
firman
declaring war on the French was genuine, and came from the sultan himself. However, it is equally clear that he thought that Talleyrand, with his superlative diplomatic skills, would soon be able to resolve the situation. What he did not know, and had not yet guessed, was that Talleyrand had never had any intention of traveling to Constantinople. In doing so he would have placed himself in danger, and on top of this would doubtless have found himself deposed by his enemies in the Directory while he was away from Paris. Talleyrand would not risk anything for Napoleon if it meant risking his own position. But Napoleon was still unaware of this—and he would hear nothing from Constantinople to inform him otherwise, as the ship on which Beauchamp was traveling would be intercepted by the British off Rhodes.

Napoleon remained on his own, and in the dark, beset on land and sea by enemies—yet in his own mind many options still remained open.

XV

Insurrection

As if all this was not enough, Napoleon also found himself facing enemies within his own camp. From the outset, General Kléber had been dissatisfied with his appointment as governor of Alexandria. He saw himself as a field general, but the head wound he had sustained during the assault on the walls of Alexandria had left him unfit to command a division on the march to Cairo. As governor of Alexandria, he soon experienced difficulties with Sheik El-Koraïm, the local leader whom Napoleon had reappointed and put in charge of local administration and maintaining order. Kléber began to wonder if he could trust El-Koraïm, and was not long in discovering evidence to support his suspicions, which he passed on to Cairo. This was damning evidence indeed, as Nicolas Turc related: “There fell into the hands of the general-in-chief letters from El-Koraim addressed to Murad Bey calling upon him with insistence to come to Alexandria, with the promise that he would deliver the city over to him.”
¹

Kléber placed El-Koraïm under arrest, and had him confined aboard a French warship in the harbor. He was then transferred under armed guard to Cairo, where he was charged with treason and sentenced to death, being allowed, as was the custom, the option of paying a fine, in this case set at the equivalent of 300,000 francs. This was a large and exemplary sum, though certainly within El-Koraïm’s ability to pay, yet he showed no inclination to do so. Napoleon’s secretary Bourrienne recorded how he had opportunity to speak alone with El-Koraïm, through an interpreter, and attempted to convince him that Napoleon would certainly carry out his sentence. He told El-Koraïm: “‘You are rich, make the sacrifice.’ El-Koraïm sneered and replied: ‘If I am to die now, nothing can prevent this, and I give my money uselessly. If I am not to die, why give it?’”
²

In refusing to pay this fine, El-Koraïm has been seen as obstinate, proud, inordinately miserly, or even imbued with a spiritual acceptance of his fate: his conversation with Bourrienne is open to all these interpretations. Yet Egyptian sources suggest otherwise. These claim that he would have understood the size of Napoleon’s fine as the first move in a bargaining position, and that when he refused to pay, Napoleon should have lowered the figure. At that time in Egypt there was no Arabic word for
compromise,
in the sense of coming to an agreement by means of debate and climbdown. Instead there was only
faradin
, which involved the resolution of a problem with no loss of face on either side. In refusing Napoleon’s offer, a move that was incomprehensible to Bourrienne, El-Koraïm was merely adhering to the only method he knew. This may have involved pride, or even obstinacy, but what the French did not understand was that for El-Koraïm there was no other way open.

On September 6 El-Koraïm was duly shot at the Citadel in Cairo. Afterwards his severed head was paraded through the streets of the city bearing the message: “El-Koraïm, sheriff of Alexandria, condemned to death for having betrayed the oath of loyalty that he had made to the French Republic, and for having continued relations with the Mamelukes, for whom he served as a spy. Thus will be punished all traitors and perjurers.”
³
According to Nicolas Turc: “His execution caused great bitterness amongst Egyptians, and after this a dreadful iciness stole over their hearts.”

Kléber had no wish to be dealing with such matters. Again and again he wrote to Napoleon: “I will not cease, Citizen General, to beg you to send the order for me to rejoin my division. I do not know anything about administration.”
⁴
With the latter remark, Napoleon soon found himself agreeing: he was constantly chiding Kléber in letter after letter (on occasion, two a day) for his shortcomings, especially with regard to finance: “I do not approve, Citizen General, the measure you have taken to withhold the 15,000 livres that I intended for [Admiral] Ganteaume . . .”; “The administration of Alexandria has cost twice as much as that for the rest of the army”; “All the measures I have taken for the navy have been nullified by the money you have diverted to other services. . . .”

Napoleon had sent money to Alexandria for Ganteaume to provide for the 3,000 French prisoners taken at the Battle of the Nile, and subsequently returned to Alexandria on parole, i.e., on condition that they did not take up arms against the British. These men, many of them inexperienced sailors, and even jailbirds who had originally been press-ganged into the navy just before the expedition sailed, soon became a source of indiscipline and general disorder in Alexandria. They even began deserting, until Napoleon finally ordered that they be rounded up and formed into a “naval brigade,” which would be marched out to the remote fort at Aboukir Bay until ships could be found for them. At least three of these former prisoners would be unlucky enough to be taken on as crew members on a corvette that unsuccessfully attempted to elude the British blockade; after their identity was established, Commodore Hood felt obliged by the rules of war to have them shot.

When Kléber began to question some of Napoleon’s commands, he was told by his commander-in-chief in no uncertain terms: “You will be so kind as not to upset the arrangements I am making. They are based on factors you cannot appreciate, since you are not at the center of things.”
⁵
Kléber vented his almost incoherent rage in his pocketbook: “Never a fixed plan, everything goes by fits and starts. Each day influenced only by the events of that day. He claims to believe in fate”; “Is he loved? How could he be? He loves nobody. But he believes he can make up for this by influencing those around him with promotions and gifts.” Yet Kléber could not help himself expressing admiration as well: “Always daring . . . an extraordinary man.”
⁶

Kléber was very much an army officer, especially in his dislike of politics; yet what he was reluctantly witnessing was the development of Napoleon the political administrator. Napoleon was beginning to emerge as Sultan El-Kebir, a man beholden to no superiors, the ruler of Egypt in every respect, giving the first intimations of the emperor he was to become: exuding power, charisma, and even charm. When Kléber finally resigned, “my health no longer permitting me, from this moment on, to remain in charge,” and followed this with his demand “to obtain from you permission to return to France,”
⁷
Napoleon exercised all his authority and charm, inviting Kléber to come to Cairo and be at his side:

I am extremely angry about your indisposition, I hope that the Nile air will do you good, and leaving the sands of Alexandria behind you, perhaps you will find our Egypt not so bad as you imagined it at first. . . . You must believe the desire I have to see you promptly reestablished, as well as the high price that I attach to your esteem and friendship. I know that we have had our little misunderstandings, yet you will be unjust if you doubt the pain that these have caused me. The esteem that I have for you is at least equal to that which you have sometimes testified for me. I salute you and love you.
^*
8

Kléber dutifully set off for Cairo, his armed convoy approaching the city on October 22—whereupon all his misgivings were immediately reinforced. As he rode up towards the city walls he could hear the sound of gunfire, and make out puffs of white smoke coming from the howitzers up on the Citadel, ranged along the battlements beneath the flying tricolor. The howitzers appeared to be firing down onto the rooftops of Cairo and in the direction of the Al-Azhar mosque. It was also noticeable that the open city gate had no uniformed guards on duty, and when Kléber’s convoy entered the city streets they were astonished to find them in uproar: the local citizens were shouting and running in all directions, assembling makeshift barricades, and there was the sound of rifle and musket fire echoing in the alleyways. The voices of the muezzins were calling out from the minarets above the panic of the streets: the entire city seemed to be in a state of anarchy.

Discontent amongst the Arab population of Cairo had been building up over the previous months, and anti-French feelings had further been encouraged by the reading out of the sultan’s
firman
in the mosques. Yet most sources seem to agree that what finally tipped the scales was a comparatively minor matter that only affected the wealthier merchants, a matter that had in fact been agreed by the general
divan
of assembled Egyptian dignitaries—notably, the tax on households. As we have seen, El-Djabarti recorded how the householders began “gathering together in groups muttering amongst themselves.” In no time, “the groups began to swell, but there was no intelligent leader to guide them. They got out the arms they had hidden, and the revolt broke out.”
⁹
This was early on October 21. As to precisely what happened next, eyewitness versions differ, but only in detail. According to Nicolas Turc, “Someone . . . ran through the streets crying, ‘All those who believe in the one God go to the Al-Azhar mosque. Today is the day we fight against the infidels!’”
¹⁰
El-Djabarti suggests that the mob initially made its way to the mansion of the
cadi
, the high judge, “who, seeing the crowd . . . shut the door of his mansion and directed his men to guard it to prevent the crowd from getting in. The rioters then began to throw all kinds of stones at the mansion. The Cadi was afraid and wanted to save himself but was not able to get out.”
¹¹