Dance to the music of time

By Hala Halim

It was almost on the eve of World War II, on 4 December 1938 to be exact, that the monument to Khedive Ismail was inaugurated. Located at the end of the French Gardens, off Place Mohamed Ali, in Manshieh, the neo-classical monument was donated to the city of Alexandria by the Italian community, according to the legend inscribed on the architrave. While the statue was made by Pietro Canonica, the collonade which forms its backdrop "was designed by Ernesto Veruchi, chief architect of royal palaces under Fouad and Farouk," according to architectural historian Mohamed Awad. Both Awad and Alexandrian artist Esmat Dawestashi find in the neo-classical design of the free-standing colonnade the imprint of Mussolini's fascist architecture. As for the khedive himself, his was an austere demeanor as he looked across the Mediterranean, one hand on his sword, the other pointing down towards his dominions.

The front page report on the inauguration published in Al-Ahram of 5 December 1938, extolled the great care invested in the organisation of the event. Three sets of raked benches were erected, the central one, where King Farouk was seated, being in front of the statue. The Ahram correspondent was most impressed by the security forces -- numbering some 2,400 men -- deployed, by Baker Bey, for the occasion. Among the guests of honour were Prince Mohamed Ali, Mohamed Hassanein Pasha, Ali Maher Pasha, Said Zulfakar Pasha, as well as Ernesto Veruchi, notables from the Italian Community in Egypt, members of the Italian Senate and representatives of the Fascist government in Italy.

But for all the fanfare 1938 was an ambiguous moment in which to commemorate the khedive. Of the many elements at work that were eventually to redraw the position of foreign communities in Egypt, the most ironical, perhaps, in view of the homage to the khedive, was the abolition of the mixed court system -- introduced during Ismail's reign -- under the Monteux Convention of 1937. As Anouchka Lazarev writes in an article on the Italian community of Alexandria, published in Alexandria 1860-1960:

"Carried along by the valiant hopes of Mussolini's grandeur yet cradled in the gentle dream of Alexandria, the Italian community seemed not to notice the surrounding world, most notably the young and thrusting Egyptian nationalism which was becoming more and more assertive. The community appeared to be suspended in a reality with no future... In 1938, the Italians of Alexandria unveiled, with great pomp, a monument erected to the glory of the Khedive Ismail, the symbol of an Egypt turned towards the West. This Egypt had just crashed to pieces one year earlier at Montreux."

The khedive, who emerged from the World War II unscathed, continued to figure in snapshots of holidaymakers until 1966 when his exile was decreed. Under the tenure of the then governor of Alexandria, Hamdi Ashour, the governorate and the Egyptian Navy decided to turn the site into the Monument to the Unknown Soldier. A "Historical Document" issued by Hamdi Ashour and the Commander of Naval Forces Admiral Soliman Ezzat on 25 July 1966, the day the eternal flame was lit, reads:

"...To immortalise the memory of the martyred Naval heroes who lay down their lives in the field of honour and duty, defending the sanctities of their homeland and the struggle of their people for freedom, socialism and unity... by the grace of God, the Monument to the Unknown Soldier, symbol of sacrifice and heroism, was established on the site of the statue of Khedive Ismail, symbol of hateful monarchy and foreign colonialism, donated by the Italian community in 1938..."

Apart from the removal of the khedive, few changes were made to the monument: the words "Monument to the Unknown Naval Soldier" replaced the dedication from the Italian community and a Qur'anic verse about martyrdom was inscribed on the now vacated plinth. Meanwhile, the khedive incurred much damage on his way to the backyard of the Hussein Sobhi Museum of Fine Arts: parts of the statue were lost and it somehow acquired fractures. But consolation -- of sorts -- awaited Ismail in the backyard of the museum. The statue of Nubar Pasha -- a minister under Ismail and one of the architects of the mixed courts who was to fall from grace with the khedive -- was there to greet him. Sculpted by a Frenchman named Puesch and cast by L Gasne in Paris in 1903, according to Dawestashi, the statue of Nubar Pasha had stood in the Municipal (Shalalat) Gardens. The seated Nubar holds a tablet inscribed with the legend: "La justice est la base de tout gouvernement", an adage repeated on his plinth. The adage, considered inoffensive, remained on the plinth, in stark contrast to the statue that came to occupy it. "The Secret Keeper", a peasant woman squatting with her hands clasped under her chin, sculpted by Mukhtar, originally in the courtyard in front of the Fine Arts Museum, was sat atop Nubar's plinth when the former minister was relegated to the backyard of the museum.

Out of sight, the khedive and his minister were not quite out of mind. Khedive Ismail, deposed ostensibly for running up enormous debts, would have been given a posthumous chance to expiate his sins had the Authority for Coin Minting had its wicked way. The Mint requested that it be allowed to melt down the huge statue and turn it into coins. A caricature by Maher Daoud on the subject (Al-Ahram, 5 January 1994) showed the minister of culture Farouk Hosni gesturing towards a tarbouched figure engulfed in flames and saying: "He ruined us with debt so he has to roast in Hell." Amid general consternation at the possible melting down of the khedive, the Italian government, according to Dawestashi, made a request to buy the statue of the khedive. Meanwhile, Dawestashi, at the time director of the Fine Arts Museum, made moves in the governorate and the Navy to have the two statues reinstated in their original locations. The Supreme Council of Antiquities was roped in to study the feasibility of the whole project, not least the question how the two statues, which had been walled in, could be brought out. Memos were sent back and forth between all concerned, but with Dawestashi's resignation from the Fine Arts Museum, the issue was forgotten.

The present initiative to resurrect Khedive Ismail and Nubar Pasha is undertaken at the behest of Alexandria's new governor, Mohamed Abdel-Salam Mahgoub. The projects launched by the governor since his tenure began a year ago have targetted not the needy slum areas but the visible, "showcase" parts of the city -- as seen in the planting of palm trees along the Corniche in the downtown area and in the long-term project of widening the Corniche itself. For the khedive's new location, a down-town parking lot opposite Pastroudis Restaurant was chosen. As new context for the khedive, the Pastroudis car park had to be revamped into a public square or park, which entailed reducing the much needed parking area to less than half its original capacity.

While a large portion of the erstwhile car park has been paved with marble and punctuated by marbled neo-classical benches, the few potted trees here and there do little to endorse the miniature square's credentials as a public park. A redeeming grace of the refurbishment is that the solid wall that separated the park from the Roman Amphitheater and excavations behind has been replaced by a wrought iron fence. All along Safia Zaghloul Street, which leads to the new "square", stunted black lampposts with two lanterns have been planted at intervals of approximately eight metres. The effect of this clustering is slightly unreal, as if the lampposts have been temporarily placed there as part of a lavish advertisement campaign. Back in the "square", Nubar and Ismail are reunited, albeit briefly, for Nubar is to be moved yet again.

How fares the khedive then in his new milieu? His status is indeed elevated: his new plinth is considerably higher than the original, though it could not have been more different in design. The Europeanising ruler par excellence has been furnished with an Egyptomanic plinth. It is a two-tiered pyramidal shape adorned at the bottom of each tier with four miniature pyramids. And the prospect the khedive commands? The Mediterranean is no longer the subject of his contemplation. With his back turned on the Roman Amphitheatre, he does not even ponder the goings-on in Safia Zaghloul Street as his head is turned slightly sideways, to focus on the backside of Cinema Amir.

Architect Mustafa Sonbol, responsible for the design of the plinth and the landscaping of the square, explains that "since it is a new plinth, made at a different moment in time, its design should be new... the choice of the pyramid motif is because, visually, it leads to the statue -- as if it had sprung out of the earth".

As for the statue of Nubar, controversy surrounds its ultimate destination. Initially, the governorate had announced that Nubar was to be placed in the courtyard of the Sayed Darwish Theatre. Originally the Mohamed Ali Theatre, it received a post-1952 re-baptism when it was renamed after the Alexandrian singer who was the bard of the 1919 Revolution, only to revert to its original name about a year ago when restoration work began on the theatre and the original sign bearing the name of the founder of Egypt's royal dynasty was discretely uncovered. A new plinth for Nubar is under construction in the courtyard of the theatre.

Yet despite the theatre's newly recovered royal connections, and the nostalgia for pre-revolutionary days notwithstanding, one is hard put to see the relevance of Nubar with his "La justice est la base de tout gouvernement" to a very baroque theatre.

The media was quick to criticise the governorate over the proposed venue. Yet according to Mrs Afaf Tewfik, press spokeswoman for the governorate, "it has not yet been decided where the Nubar statue will be placed; perhaps in front of the Sayed Darwish Theatre and perhaps in its original place in the Shalalat Gardens." Dr Mustafa Sonbol, however, confirms that Nubar Pasha will be placed before the theatre.

The saga of the two statues and their resurrection into contexts perceived inappropriate, has saddened many Alexandrians. To professor of history Mustafa Abbadi, it is obvious that usurping the khedive's monument was a mistake in the first place and that the statue should be returned to its original position. He adds that he considers it "a disgrace for the Unknown Soldier" that his monument should be a recycled one. Professor Abbadi also points out the irony that the Unknown Soldier should be commemorated by a monument originally intended for the khedive who, in the discourse of the 1952 Revolution, was cast as a traitor and the very symbol of feudalism.

Architect Mohamed Awad agrees; the current setting of the khedive, in his opinion, is "a bad choice: I'd have preferred him in his original place, and the Unknown Soldier could be moved. If not, at least Khedive Ismail should be placed in the Nuzha Gardens which he had bought. My first choice for Nubar would have been the original place. If not, I'd have rather seen him on the ground hall of the former Mixed Tribunal, because he is related to judiciary reform and the creation of mixed courts."

To Dawestashi, there are no two ways of seeing the denouement of the saga: "the removal of the statues was an uncivilised act and the only civilised act that can remedy this is to restore them to their original places" with the Secret Keeper put back in the courtyard of the Fine Arts Museum. It was Dawestashi who, in a recent article on the subject, compared the whole issue of plinths and statues to a game of musical chairs. Quite who will be where when the music stops playing, though, remains an open question.

photo: sherif sonbol

photo courtesy of Mohamed Awad

(l-r)The khedive atop a new plinth in a new setting, Alexandrians celebrating the inauguration of the monument to Khedive Ismail