The reform programme initiated by Cromer led to an era of financial stability, lower taxation and advances in public works. A large-scale dam at Aswan was completed in 1902, the largest dam in the world at the time, providing additional irrigation waters for both Upper and Lower Egypt. Many parts of Egypt, notably the Delta, were no longer dependent on the annual Nile flood. Farmers were able to grow two or three crops a year; the production of cotton doubled within twenty years. Much of the increase in agricultural prosperity, however, flowed into the hands of large landowners rather than peasants.
British rule nevertheless aroused growing resentment among Egypt’s middle-class elite. Thwarted in his attempt to assert a more prominent role, Abbas was instrumental in stirring up anti-British agitation. He supported the activities of a group of Egyptian nationalists, secretly helped to form a Society for the Revival of the Nation, backed anti-colonialist publications that demanded independence and sought closer contact with Turkey.
The advent of the First World War caused further alienation. When Turkey joined Germany in the war against Britain, the British government, fearing that Egypt’s population might rally behind the Ottomans, deposed Abbas, replaced him with a pliant uncle, declared Egypt a protectorate and imposed martial law. Egypt became the main British base for operations in the Middle East. By 1916, three British armies were stationed there, a total of 400,000 men. The influx of foreign troops produced soaring price inflation and widespread hardship. The British conscripted labour and requisitioned food and transport animals, provoking a series of violent incidents. Egyptians expressed their fury in a popular song directed at the British high commissioner, General Wingate.
Woe on us, Wingate. Who has carried off our corn.
Carried off our cotton. Carried off our camels.
Carried off our children. Leaving us only our lives.
For love of Allah, now leave us alone.
By the time the war ended, Egypt was seething with discontent. The clamour for independence became ever more insistent. In November, a Cairo lawyer, Saad Zaghlul, asked Wingate for permission to lead an Egyptian delegation – a wafd – to London to present the case for ‘the complete independence of Egypt’. Blocked by the British authorities from travelling either to London or to the Paris Peace Conference, Zaghlul and his associates turned the wafd into a protest movement. In an attempt to curb Wafd activities, the British arrested Zaghlul in March 1919 and sent him and other colleagues into exile in Malta. The immediate result, however, was a nationalist uprising. Within days, Egypt was engulfed in a wave of demonstrations, strikes, rural violence and sabotage. Seeking to restore order, the British released Zaghlul and allowed him to lead a Wafd delegation to Paris. But Zaghlul’s hopes of gaining a hearing there for Egypt’s independence were soon dashed. In May 1919, the Peace Conference recognised Britain’s claim to a protectorate over Egypt.
Faced with further disturbances and realising that Egypt could only be held by force, the British government then decided to accede to Egyptian demands for independence but to retain certain powers that were regarded as being essential to protect British interests. In a unilateral declaration made in February 1922, Britain ended protectorate rule and granted Egypt a modified form of independence, reserving for itself authority over four key areas: the security of imperial communications in Egypt, including the Suez Canal; the defence of Egypt against all foreign aggression, involving control of the Egyptian army; the protection of foreign interests and minorities in Egypt; and hegemony over Sudan. Furthermore, Egypt was required to accept a British military presence to safeguard British interests. The limits that Britain imposed on Egypt’s independence aroused so much controversy that it was not until 1936 that negotiations over a new treaty settled the matter.
When the independence of Egypt was formally declared on 15 March 1922, the Muhammad Ali dynasty remained in place, but now assumed the title of kings. The first king, Ahmad Fuad, was the youngest son of Khedive Ismail, who had been appointed as sultan of the British Protectorate in 1917. An ambitious man, Fuad conspired to obtain significant powers for himself during manoeuvres over a new constitution. Introduced in 1923, the constitution entitled the king to appoint and dismiss the prime minister and cabinet as well as to prorogue or dismiss parliament. In parliamentary elections in 1924, Zaghlul’s Wafd party won an overwhelming majority, securing 90 per cent of the seats. But despite the size of his victory, the political arena was constantly in ferment, engulfed in a tripartite struggle between the king, the Wafd movement and the British, all seeking to assert their own authority. In November 1924, following the assassination of a British official in Cairo, the British authorities stepped in to remove Zaghlul’s ministry. In the first eight years of constitutional life, parliament was dissolved four times. The endless intrigues and corruption of the political establishment led to widespread disillusionment in the whole idea of parliamentary democracy, providing opportunities for other groups to take root.
The most influential of these groups was the Society of Muslim Brothers – Jamiyyat al-Ikhwan al-Muslimin. It was founded in Ismailia in 1928 by a zealous 22-year-old teacher, Hasan al-Banna, who sought religious and political reform in Egypt. A magnetic orator who used the coffee houses in Ismailia as a pulpit as well as the mosques, Banna campaigned for a return to a ‘pure’ form of Islam as laid down by the Prophet Muhammad and the first Muslim elders – the Salaf. Islam as it was originally practised, he argued, was the key to Egypt’s moral and social renewal. It provided not only a guide to private belief and ritual but a comprehensive system of values and governance for the state. He derided Egypt’s parliamentary system, dominated as it was by large landowners and rich merchants, as a sham imposed by the wealthy to keep the poor in their place. More generally, he decried the spread of Western secular values and lifestyles in Egypt – the blight of alcohol, gambling, prostitution, ‘lewd’ films and literature, and the free mixing of women with unrelated men.
Transferred to a school in Cairo in 1932, Banna turned the Muslim Brotherhood into a national organisation. He adopted the title of ‘supreme guide’, issued bylaws, toured branches across the country, set up welfare societies and organised summer youth camps. The Muslim Brotherhood soon became a mass movement, with hundreds of thousands of followers. It also established paramilitary units known as Rovers (jawala) and Battalions (kataib), drawing inspiration from the fascist youth organisations of interwar Europe.
Other groups entering the fray included Young Egypt, an ultra-nationalist movement that set up a militia known as the Green Shirts and used street violence to challenge the establishment. In response, the Wafd party formed its own paramilitary wing, the Blue Shirts. The use of violence in Egyptian politics became increasingly commonplace.
Amid the tumult, King Fuad used his position as monarch to accumulate vast wealth. His personal fortune included 75,000 acres of fertile farmland, five palaces, numerous hunting lodges, yachts and cars. Having been educated mainly in Europe, he spoke limited Arabic and gained a reputation for being contemptuous of ordinary Egyptians and mean with his money. When he died in April 1936, there was little mourning.
His son, Farouk, was only sixteen years old when he became the tenth and final member of the Muhammad Ali dynasty. Pampered from birth, he spent a solitary childhood in royal palaces, surrounded by staff but allowed no friends. Though adept at languages, including Arabic, he disliked having to study and managed to avoid formal education. He was sent to England in October 1935 to attend the Royal Military Academy at Woolwich, but preferred to while away time on more pleasurable pursuits in London.
Such was the public dislike of his father, however, that Farouk’s return to Egypt as king in 1936 was greeted with considerable optimism. His coronation in July 1937 became an occasion for national celebration. The streets of Cairo were filled with visitors from across the country, keen to witness the spectacle of marching bands, military parades and fireworks and take advantage of the mountains of free food on offer. In an
address to the Chamber of Deputies, Farouk struck a populist note in affirming his embrace of Islam and speaking of his concern for the poor. Amid the array of glittering banquets and balls he attended, he found time to put on a simple suit to drive to the slums of the city and distribute money to relief organisations. The press acclaimed him as ‘the pious king’ and the ‘renewer of Islam’. His wedding in January 1938 to the daughter of a judge was marked by equally lavish celebrations.
But the mood of optimism soon abated. Farouk began to lose his youthful zest, opting for the lifestyle of a rich playboy. And when war in Europe broke out in 1939, Egypt once more became the stamping ground of foreign armies.
55
ELECT OF GOD
Although he belonged to a subordinate branch of Abyssinia’s ruling dynasty, Tafari Makonnen never doubted his destiny as an imperial monarch. His father, Ras Makonnen, a cousin and devoted friend of Emperor Menelik, was the provincial governor of Harar. His mother was the daughter of a minor nobleman from Wollo. Born in 1892, Tafari was her tenth and last child. Educated in part by Jesuit missionaries, in part at a palace school in Addis Ababa, Tafari grew up on the fringe of palace politics, but possessed a strong sense of mission. In 1916, during a period of internal tumult, he played a leading role in a plot to oust Menelik’s grandson, Lij Yasu, as emperor. When Menelik’s daughter, Zawditu, was installed as empress in his place, Tafari was nominated as regent and heir apparent and given the title of ras (equivalent to a duke). Behind closed doors, powerful aristocrats who supported Tafari’s appointment assumed that because of his youth and inexperience, he would be malleable and easy to control.
Ras Tafari acted as regent for fourteen years, overcoming conspiracies and revolts and steadily acquiring personal power through skilful manoeuvre. He embarked upon a programme of modernisation, believing that it was essential for national survival. During the 1920s, he brought an end to the slave trade, banned slavery and abolished a variety of crude practices such as cutting off the hands and feet of criminals. He founded schools, built roads and began the process of creating a modern army. He imported two printing presses and undertook the publication of Amharic books and tracts. A tour he made of European capitals in 1924 made him a familiar figure there, a diminutive man, remembered for his black gold-embroidered cloak and collection of hats.
Addis Ababa became not only the political capital of the empire but its commercial hub. It grew from being little more than a sprawling encampment on the slopes of the Entoto hills into a city of 100,000 inhabitants, with schools, hospitals, churches, a mosque, commercial establishments and drinking houses, all set amidst groves of eucalyptus trees. The railway from Djibouti, completed in 1917, terminated in an imposing station. Foreign legations added new buildings to their compounds. The European population rose to about 2,500, mostly Greeks and Armenians. By 1927, some 300 cars were in circulation. Thousands of workers were employed in coffee-sorting warehouses or in tanning plants. On Saturdays, a throng of peasants from surrounding areas brought their produce to the great market.
When Zawditu died in April 1930, the crown council duly proclaimed Tafari emperor. He took the name of Haile Selassie, meaning ‘Power of the Trinity’, the name he was given at baptism, but decided to postpone his coronation for seven months so that it could be turned into an international event. Invitations were sent to emperors, kings and presidents throughout the world. Addis Ababa was transformed by paved roads and triumphal arches and months of cleaning and painting. New khaki uniforms were provided for the police and the imperial bodyguard. Gold medals were manufactured with effigies of the emperor and his wife to be given as souvenirs to foreign guests. Haile Selassie himself took charge of the preparations, helping to design coronation vestments and symbols of state.
Delegations led by princes, nobles and military commanders descended on Addis Ababa from every corner of the empire to witness the coronation. Thousands of foreign dignitaries and visitors arrived by train. Among the journalists who came was the writer Evelyn Waugh who later used his experiences of Abyssinia to produce a comic novel, Black Mischief.
Haile Selassie strove hard to present Abyssinia as a country with modern ambitions yet he was also keen to ensure that the monarchy held on to its ancient mystique. A constitution that he introduced in 1931 allowed for the establishment of a bicameral parliament, consisting of a senate appointed from the ranks of the nobility by the emperor and a chamber of deputies elected indirectly on the basis of property qualifications. But the constitution also stipulated that no law approved by parliament could be put into effect until promulgated by the emperor.
Moreover, according to the constitution, the emperor possessed a divine right to rule. The person of the emperor was deemed to be ‘sacred’; his dignity ‘inviolate’; his power ‘incontestable’. He was said to be descended from a lineage ‘unbroken from the dynasty of Menelik I, son of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba’. Among the titles with which he was graced was ‘Elect of God’. His divine right to rule was devoutly upheld by the Orthodox Church through its multitude of monasteries, churches and priests.
Haile Selassie used his power to construct a central government that was totally reliant on the monarchy. He placed loyal officials in command of government departments and provincial capitals and kept tight control of the flow of information, withholding news, manipulating reports and deploying propaganda. Throughout the empire, he was portrayed as the sole fount of authority.
Overshadowing Haile Selassie’s triumph, however, was a persistent threat from Italy. Many Italians longed to avenge their defeat at Adowa in 1896. When signing a Treaty of Friendship and Arbitration with Abyssinia in 1928, Italy’s Fascist leader, Benito Mussolini, expected to expand Italian influence there, but four years later, having failed to make much headway with peaceful penetration, he began preparations for a war of conquest, believing that a quick victory would bolster Italian pride and demonstrate what Fascism could achieve. In 1932, Mussolini ordered a logistic build-up in Eritrea. Fascist propaganda depicted Abyssinia as a primitive country where slavery still flourished.
The pretext for war was a minor incident at Walwal on Abyssinia’s Ogaden border with Italian Somalia. The Ogaden border had never been clearly demarcated. An agreement made in 1897 stipulated that it should follow a line not more than 180 miles inland from the Indian Ocean coast. But during the 1920s, the Italians had pushed beyond the 180-mile limit, taking control of a group of water holes in Abyssinian territory, including Walwal. An Italian map issued in 1925 showed Walwal at least sixty miles inside Abyssinia. The Abyssinians protested at the incursions, but the dispute remained unresolved. In December 1934, the Italians, using aircraft and armoured cars, launched an attack on Abyssinian positions at Walwal, killing more than a hundred Abyssinian soldiers.
The Walwal incident grew into an international wrangle. Haile Selassie sought assistance from the League of Nations in Geneva. Mussolini argued that Abyssinia was to blame and made shrill demands for apologies and reparations. Neither Britain nor France was willing to confront Mussolini over the issue, leaving Haile Selassie stranded on his own while Mussolini poured reinforcements into Eritrea and Italian Somalia, preparing for an invasion. In October 1935, almost ten months after the incident at Walwal, Mussolini declared: ‘We have been patient with Ethiopia for forty years; now our patience is exhausted.’
The following day, 100,000 Italian troops crossed the Mareb River from Eritrea, thrusting deep into northern Abyssinia. Another Italian army invaded from Somalia. Using aerial bombardment, artillery and poison gas, they mowed down the Abyssinians in their thousands. For month after month, Haile Selassie endeavoured to stem the advance, joining his ill-equipped forces in the field, but to no avail. In May 1936, with the Italians poised to strike at Addis Ababa, he decided to leave for exile rather than risk a humiliating capture or death, hoping to provide a symbol of Abyssinia’s refusal to accept defeat.
In an address to the League of Nations in Geneva in June, Ha
ile Selassie described how the Italians had used mustard gas not only against his army but against the civilian population. The issue facing the fifty-two members of the League of Nations, he said, was wider than just a case of Italian aggression. ‘If a strong government finds that it can with impunity destroy a weak people,’ then the collective security of small states promised by the League of Nations was in danger. He appealed for protection. ‘What reply shall I have to take back to my people?’ he asked. He left with nothing more than expressions of sympathy and headed for exile in England.
In the introduction to his history of the Second World War, Winston Churchill wrote of the consequences of the failure of Britain and other powers to act in defence of Abyssinia. ‘If ever there was an opportunity of striking a decisive blow for a generous cause it was this. The fact that the nerve of the British government was not equal to the occasion played a part in leading to more terrible war.’
Having secured Addis Ababa, Mussolini declared Abyssinia to be part of Africa Orientale Italiana (AOI), a territory which included the colonies of Eritrea and Somalia. Except for the enclaves of French Somaliland (Djibouti) and British Somaliland, the entire Horn of Africa was now deemed to belong to Italy and Mussolini hoped eventually to absorb them as well. Under a decree issued on 1 June 1936, the lands of Abyssinia were carved up anew. Tigray was incorporated into the province of Eritrea, the Ogaden was merged with Somalia, and the rest of Abyssinia was divided into four regions, each ruled by an Italian military governor. On their enrolment into the new administration, Abyssinian officials were required to give Fascist salutes to their new emperor, King Vittorio Emmanuel III, and to the ‘Duce of Fascismo’, Benito Mussolini. Mussolini’s Blackshirt militias were set up in provincial towns.
The Fortunes of Africa: A 5,000 Year History of Wealth, Greed and Endeavour Page 50