Cairo: A Crisis At Home

Egypt Today, Egypt
March 16 2007

A Crisis At Home

The 1956 Suez War led to an exodus of foreign residents and empowered
Gamal Abdel Nasser’s vision of pan-Arab solidarity in the process. In
the second of a two part series, we take a closer look at what the
conflict meant for Egypt.

By Fayza Hassan

THE 1956 SUEZ Canal war, known in our part of the world as the
Tripartite Aggression, was one of Egypt’s many military debacles of
the twentieth century. More than others, however, its consequences
for the nation’s social diversity and culture were nothing short of
disastrous, reaching far into the future to shape the Egypt we live
in today.

Gamal Abdel Nasser nationalized the company that ran the Suez Canal
on July 26, 1956, taking over its administration to the general
acclaim not only of Egyptians, but of all the Arab countries. Here,
finally, was a leader that Western powers would know better than to
mess with, they said.

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In the euphoria of the moment, Nasser believed that he got away with
his gamble. Britain and France had protested violently and threatened
action, but seemed to have settled for referring the case to the
United Nations. Every day that passes lessens the chances of an
attack, Nasser had confided to his officers; he believed that as long
as the operation of the Canal went on smoothly, in the end there
would be no real adverse repercussions. The Canal nevertheless
remained closed to Israeli navigation, one of the main bones of
contention between Egypt and Israel and one that Nasser had no
intention of readdressing. On the other hand, the details of
compensation for shareholders was subject to negotiation, and he was
ready to be fair, possibly generous, on this matter.

The poor – the majority of Egyptians – were especially ecstatic. For
the first time in their long history of subjugation, they felt free
and vindicated. The building of the Suez Canal had only been possible
at the cost of hundreds of thousands of forced laborers’ lives and
now, finally, their sacrifice was benefiting their countrymen.

Even Egyptians opposed to the Free Officers’ Revolution who had hoped
for Nasser’s downfall in 1954 seemed momentarily reconciled with the
new leader’s revolutionary policies; a new era was opening up, an era
in which they could hold their heads high. The rich may have been
deprived of their wealth, but at least their leader was standing his
ground, impervious to intimidation.

Soon, rumors of Egyptian tourists being asked to leave at once from
their European holiday destinations made the rounds of the chic
salons. `They are afraid of us now,’ the newly dispossessed would
chuckle. Mahmoud Hassan, 14 at the time, was spending the summer
months in Switzerland. He had no idea what was happening in Egypt
while he was enjoying the mountain air. On the morning of July 27 as
he was leaving the hotel, he was accosted by an elegant older
gentleman. `You,’ said the man pointing at him, `Are you Egyptian?’
Thinking that the man wanted to know something about the Pyramids,
the young boy replied affirmatively. The man turned red and seemed to
choke for a second, then throwing himself at him, began to pummel him
with all his might: `You thief, you dirty Arab thief you will give it
back to us whether you like it or not. Give it back now, now,’ he
raved, foaming at the mouth.

A British tank keeps watch over a street in Port Said.

Overwhelmed and terrified, Hassan retreated, convinced that the man
was insane. Only later did he learn that he had just been ordered to
hand back the Suez Canal to the French. Soon after, Hassan’s family
was officially advised that they would do well to leave Switzerland
at their `earliest convenience’ and for `their own protection.’

Foreign residents in Egypt who were not vacationing abroad did not
seem too concerned at first. They knew little or nothing of what had
happened in European political circles following the nationalization.
The general consensus of the Egyptian cosmopolitan elite was that the
Canal was going to revert to Egypt anyway, and as long as navigation
was not interrupted, it was really no big deal. Life went on as
usual, with its rounds of festivities in the coastal cities where
Cairenes were in the habit of escaping to avoid the stifling heat of
the capital.

The Egyptian government, believing that as long as the Canal traffic
was flowing there would be no problems, was unaware of the conspiracy
that was meanwhile developing in Europe between the French, the
British and the Israelis. To this day, some of the minute details of
the affair remain hazy since all of the archives of the period have
not yet been opened.

Who really came up with the plot, the French, the British or the
Israelis? It is commonly accepted that the French and the Israelis
had been conniving before the British joined in. Be that as it may, a
great deal of diplomatic flurry at the top level resulted in the
secret signing of the Sèvres Protocol between the three countries who
had vested interests in the Canal. Devised by France, Britain and
Israel, the Sèvres Protocol was a strategy according to which Israeli
paratroopers would launch a surprise attack on the Mitla Pass 70
miles inside of Egypt and 30 miles from the Canal, while armored
columns would cross into the Sinai. This would be officially
disguised as reprisals against fidaeyeen attacks in the Rafah-Gaza
area. Britain and France would intervene thirty-six hours later
ostensibly to protect the navigation on the Canal but with the
further aim of proceeding to Cairo and unseating Nasser.

The whole venture was dreamed up by Anthony Eden, Guy Mollet and
David Ben-Gurion who kept most of the details from their respective
governments for the good reason that the plan was based on a major
deception: Israel was to be seen as attacking Egypt for its own
reasons while Britain and France would pretend to be worried about
the good functioning of the Canal. An ultimatum would then be issued
to the warring parties to which the Israelis would abide (although
secretly they had planned to proceed on their own and occupy Sharm
El-Sheikh) and which Nasser was expected to refuse, thus opening the
way to a full-scale invasion of Egypt by Britain and France.

French troops patrolling the streets of Port Said.

Consultation with the United States was rejected owing to their
preoccupation with the election campaign and the generally
unsatisfactory level of assistance its administration was willing to
give to any armed attack on Egypt.

The Protocol was to remain so secret that Eden, who was facing the
resistance of his Cabinet at home, was dismayed when he discovered
that the Israelis had someone taking minutes of the meeting and
typing the agreement, creating a material record of the dealings. He
had banked on Israel and France accepting a gentlemen’s agreement,
which he could always deny in case something went awry. Now his role
in the matter might leak and it would become known that, against
America’s desire, he had encouraged his allies to bypass the United
Nations Security Council, which was still debating the issue of the
nationalization and considering the application of limited sanctions
as a first step to further action.

Eden, elated by the scheme, seemed oblivious of the enormity of what
was afoot: `Secretly, without the knowledge of their parliaments,
their public and most of their civil servants and in Britain’s case
her military commanders, Britain, France and Israel had declared war
upon Egypt,’ commented W. Scott Lucas in Divided we Stand: Britain,
the US and the Suez Crisis. Eden, however, was moved by personal
feelings of antagonism towards Nasser, which were so strong that they
caused him to take momentarily leave of his senses.

On October 25 he simply informed his Cabinet for the first time of
the gist of what had been concocted at Sèvres, without ever
mentioning the Protocol: `In principle that, in the event of an
Israeli attack on Egypt, the government should join with the French
government in calling on the two belligerents to stop hostilities and
withdraw their forces to a distance of ten miles from the Canal; and
should warn both belligerents that if either or both of them failed
within twelve hours to comply with these requirements, British and
French forces would intervene to enforce compliance.’ He also
mentioned en passant that there were intelligence reports alleging
that Israel was poised to attack Egypt sometime in the near future.

The way was now clear for the events outlined in the Sèvres Protocol
to unfold: Israel would launch a full-scale attack on the afternoon
of October 29. The following day the British and French governments
would demand that Egypt and Israel cease-fire and withdraw ten miles
either side of the Canal while Anglo-French forces established `a
temporary occupation of the key positions on the Canal.’ The
inevitable Egyptian refusal of the ultimatum would bring a joint
Anglo-French attack on the morning of October 31.

The Suez crisis made international headlines.

An Annex, signed by France and Israel and withheld from the British,
stated that the French fighters and pilots would be based on Israeli
airfields and French ships would protect the Israeli coast.

The attack took Egypt completely by surprise. Composer and songwriter
Sayed Hegab, who was studying at the University of Alexandria at the
time, clearly recalls his lack of understanding. His perception of
the events preceding the attack was that of any average Egyptian. He
wrote in his memoirs A New Egyptian: `By the time we went back to our
lodgings [after dinner] in the peace of the rain, war had broken out.
The Israeli army had invaded our borders. There were threats from the
British and French governments. How would Nasser answer them? France
and Britain threatened to occupy Egypt unless its army stopped
resisting the Israeli Army The next day, he answered, `We will resist
and fight!’ He had the face of an Egyptian fellah. He did not want
war. The Egyptian people did not want war. Abdel Nasser asked the
nation to take up arms against the aggression. I went to the faculty
to put down my name on the list of volunteers.’

Hegab was told to report for duty in his hometown of Mataria on Lake
Manzala. He hastened there. `The attempts to land paratroopers at
Port Said continued. The radio carried burning news of the situation.
Volunteers stood on the shores of Mataria waiting for the crowds of
refugees. In the distance, on the horizon, at night, we could see the
lights of the fires burning in Port Said Port Said was burning.
Fishing boats rescued the people from the fires. In the rush, fathers
lost contact with their sons. Girls put on one shoe and forgot the
other. Disheveled hair, extraordinary clothes, tears, children crying
on their mothers’ breasts. Boats sinking because of overloading with
refugees. Mataria’s face changed. It filled with soldiers withdrawing
from Port Said and guerrillas infiltrating the area between Mataria
and Port Said. Reed huts were hurriedly set up in Mataria’s streets.
The schools were crowded with refugee familiesFamilies were
separated, torn apart, reunited `The fight in Port Said is going from
street to street,’ the radio said. If Port Said fell would Nasser
fall? The Russians looked on. The war stopped Discussions at the
United Nations. Condemnation of the aggression. In Port Said there
was increasingly heroic resistance, writing on the walls, abduction
of British soldiers. Barbed wire separated the Arab Quarter where the
poor lived from the French Quarter where the wealthy lived and where
the occupying forces were encamped. The darkness of war still covered
Egyptian sky The occupying force withdrew. Nasser emerged from his
military rout as a political victor. The refugees returned to Port
Said. Mataria once more belonged to her citizens. We went back to the
university. They began to rebuild Port Said. Peace.’

In Cairo, awareness came with the blaring of the first air raid
sirens as the airfields were bombed on October 31. At the time, no
one realized that Egypt had lost more than half its air force in this
first surprise strike. A curfew was installed, car lights turned a
dreary dark blue and windowpanes were covered with sheets of heavy
carton or simply painted blue. Schools and universities were closed.
Young men enrolled in the civil defense and trained on the lawns of
clubs, especially the Gezira Sporting Club, during the day and
patrolled the streets at night, stopping cars to check on the dimming
of their lights and reminding inhabitants of buildings to turn off
their lights. Accusations of spying for the enemy were easy to be
thrown at whoever did not comply at once. Foreigners were
particularly targeted although nothing serious ever came of these
altercations.

A small number of students at the French School of Law and the French
preparatory class of Propédeutique were suddenly at a loose end. The
Law School building in Mounira had been taken over by a military
outfit. There were rumors that all the French professors had been
ordered out; several led to the airports in handcuffs. Some students
had already made up their minds to enroll at the American University
in Beirut as soon as they could leave. The dean of the Lycée
Franco-Egyptien in Heliopolis had already disappeared. The rest of
the student body had no idea what would happen to them. Cairo
University? The American University? They sat idly in Groppi cafe,
smoking, drinking coffee and thinking privately that this unexpected
war was messing up their lives. The sons and daughters of the Cairo
Egyptian elite, generally not politically savvy, were annoyed that
their routine had been disturbed. Deep down, they did not mind the
momentary excitement providing it all ended soon and did not alter
their way of life.

Alexandria and Port Said were a different story, with Port Said
especially taking the brunt of the attack. More cosmopolitan than
Cairo, the war affected the foreign population of these two cities
first. The French and the British who were not pushed departed in a
panic. Some complained later that the local population had turned
against them. Foreign governments withdrew their pilots from the
Canal Zone soon after the nationalization (in order to prove that
Nasser was unable to run the Canal), which Europeans and Jews
(whether Egyptians or otherwise) took as a strong hint that their
future and that of their children did not lie on Egyptian shores.

Andre Aciman (in Out of Egypt) recalls how late one afternoon, coming
out of the tailor’s shop with his mother, they had heard a siren
blare, and had seen the lights of the Department Store Hanneaux
suddenly go out. They had taken refuge in a Greek grocery store where
there were already many people waiting to use the telephone:

“Soon it will be over and we will all go home,’ said someone.

`At any rate, how long do you think it could possibly take with them’
said someone else in French, mocking the Egyptian forces.

`A day or two at the most?’ guessed another.

`If that’ said a fourth voice. `The British will clean this whole
mess up for us; give the Egyptians the well-deserved hiding they’ve
been begging for since nationalizing the Suez Canal. And in a matter
of weeks things will be back to what they always were.’

`Insh’Allah’ said a European in Arabic.”

These were the people who had to change their opinion – and their
plans – in a hurry when the British, committing many technical as
well as diplomatic blunders, did not manage to `clean the mess,’ but
instead remained mired in Port Said.

The only exception to the exodus of foreigners were the Greeks, who
sided with Nasser and not only lent their pilots to work alongside
the Egyptian pilots to ensure the smooth running of the Canal but
also kept their businesses going as usual to service the beleaguered
population.

As the protracted negotiations went on at the UN, the two coastal
cities emptied of their foreign populations. By 1960 many had left
Egypt; Nasser encouraged the European flight and furthermore did
nothing to hang on to those who had taken Egyptian nationality, the
Syro-Lebanese, the Armenians and the Maltese, who were particularly
affected by his socialist legislation.

The invasion was not going well: It had not occurred to the British
that Nasser would decide to sink several ships in the Canal to stop
navigation. The troops had landed in Port Said and Port Fuad but the
British decided not to pursue their plan to invade the entire country
partly for fear of the USSR deciding to side with Egypt, partly
because Eden was facing fierce opposition at home and finally for
fear of seriously alienating the Americans who were, in any case,
about to blow their top. Eisenhower had pieced together the actions
of Britain, France and Israel and the collusion between them had
become apparent. He was furious and bitter words were exchanged
between the American administration and British Prime Minister Eden.
America, however, could not be seen as deserting its natural ally,
Britain, and Eden on the other hand had come to realize that with the
British depressed economy he could ill afford an occupation of Egypt
without the help of the United States. The UN had to be relied upon
to provide some face-saving device allowing for a Franco-British
dignified retreat as intimated now by the United States. The problem
was finally resolved at the UN with the sending of a peacekeeping
mission that would take over from the British and French.

The war had lasted six days and in the Middle East, it led to about
everything its instigators had hoped to avoid. The Suez Canal, which
the French and the British had wanted to safeguard, remained closed
to navigation for over six months. While initially intending to
protect the flow of oil to Western Europe, their actions not only
deprived the shipping companies of their shortest route to markets,
but also sabotaged nearly all the direct pipelines to the
Mediterranean, forcing Britain and France to resort to petrol
rationing. The blow to the dissemination of French and British
culture and education in the Middle East was fatal, as fleeing
foreigners abandoned fortunes and often their entire life’s savings.
Some foreigners, usually those who had no other alternative, remained
but they felt suddenly unwelcome.

For a country that had suffered a militarily crushing defeat, Egypt
came out of the Suez crisis in a buoyant mood. On Christmas day the
Egyptians celebrated with a final gesture of defiance: They pulled
down the statue of de Lesseps at the entrance of the Canal, a highly
visible symbol of foreign oppression.

By the beginning of the 1960s the cosmopolitan society that had dwelt
happily in Egypt for a century was no more. The Russian takeover that
Eden claimed he feared so much never took place but Nasser’s credit
in the Arab world rose to its zenith. Arab nationalism surged with a
vengeance and from then on, animosity grew steadily between the
Middle East and the Western world. et

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