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Al-Ahram Weekly 15 - 21 June 2000 Issue No. 486 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 15 - 21 June 2000 Issue No. 486
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Digging up the garden
By Pascale Ghazaleh
When the idea of "celebrating" the bicentenary of the French invasion of Egypt was mooted two years ago, it aroused not a little controversy. The brainchild's parents were surprised: why should we not celebrate two centuries of enlightenment? Did the arrival of French troops at Agami not inaugurate a new era of modernisation, liberation from almost three centuries of oppression and stagnation, a promise fulfilled only by Mohamed Ali, the true "founder of modern Egypt"? Predictably enough, the debate fed into far more current events, and became something of a litmus test of patriotism. The French Expedition, argued opponents of the celebration (hastily transformed, in the face of the onslaught of criticism, into a "commemoration," then an "event" to mark 200 years of "shared horizons"), was nothing more than an act of imperialism. Far from bringing modern scientific knowledge to Egypt, its savants took pieces of Egypt back to France. They sought to dissect "us," not for our own benefit but for theirs. As the troops pillaged and raped, desecrated Al-Azhar and bombed Azbakiya, the savants were busy copying temple inscriptions and drawing insects, piecing together the knowledge that would turn out to be an integral component of the short-lived enterprise.
As 1998 came to an end, however, nothing more was heard. In 2001, perhaps we will celebrate the departure of the troops, lock, stock and printing press. This week, however, marks the passing of two centuries since a pivotal event in the three-year occupation -- perhaps, indeed, the beginning of the end.
The assassination of Kléber, who had succeeded Napoleon as commander-in-chief of the French army of occupation when the latter returned to Europe in 1800, continues to provide historians with small mysteries to ponder. The assassin's identity, his motive in carrying out the murder, whether he should be considered a national hero, a mujahid, or a common criminal -- all these points remain open. Was he the actual killer? If so, was he acting on his own behalf, or had he been sent by representatives of the Sublime Porte on a mission to end the French occupation of Egypt, sacrificed in cold blood to a shot in the dark?
Then, too, there are the intriguing inconsistencies of detail: the exact methods employed by the French in extracting a confession from Soliman El-Halabi, his subsequent torture and execution (a slow and excruciatingly painful affair by all accounts -- on this point, at least, there seems to be some consensus), and the beheading of his three "accomplices," Azharite sheikhs accused of participating in the conspiracy to foment sedition among the inhabitants of occupied Cairo: these points, too, have given rise to contradictory interpretations. Was the hearing meant to portray the rationality of enlightened justice, or was it a puppet trial, intended only to teach the natives a good lesson by putting individuals chosen at random on the stand? Finally, even the spectacle provided by El-Halabi's death -- a gruesome enough representation of French power, one would imagine -- was not as well attended as one would have expected. Did the Cairenes turn away in horror and pity? Or were they bored by a mundane display of agony?
The very sequence of events surrounding Kléber's assassination is unclear. A detail here and there differs from one account to another; but then, details can be modified for the sake of the picturesque or the dramatic. To be sure, the punishment meted out to Soliman El-Halabi was intended to provide an example: à bon entendeur, salut. The marks of retribution were clearly inscribed on his body, but how? Was his hand amputated, or burned off? And the decision to impale the assassin/freedom fighter remains no less ambiguous: in the impaling, may we not read a crucifixion? The spectacle this example was meant to provide failed to produce the intended result, for the spectators turned away, in disgust or indifference. Finally, did the assassin's executioner's put a merciful end to his torment, or prolong it in a futile attempt at forced expiation? Was the cup of water that would lead to a certain, rapid death spilled by the executioner, knocked from the hand of a merciful bystander? or did the French -- humane despite the heinous crime committed against them -- flinch at this barbarous, very Eastern execution?
Exemplary punishment
On 14 June 1800, writes historian Henri Laurens, Kléber, walking in the gardens of the French army's Cairo headquarters with the architect Protain, saw an individual approaching him. Believing him to be a petitioner, he held out his hand. He was then struck, as was his companion, by several blows of a knife. The soldiers on guard, alerted by their cries, rushed up and found their general-in-chief expiring. Immediately the news spread through Cairo. The inhabitants feared a general massacre in retaliation for the assassination; the French, for their part, took this as the sign of a new insurrection. Luckily, the assassin, who had hidden in a neighbouring garden, was found. He was an Aleppine (Halabi), called Soliman. He was immediately interrogated and tortured by Barthélémy, "who found out the whole truth of the matter."
The western shore of the Azbakiya pond after its destruction by the French. The palace of Al-Alfi Bek, which Bonaparte took as his residence during the occupation, is in the centre (in Doris Behrens-Abouseif, Azbakiyya and its Environs from Azbak to Ismail, 1476-1879, IFAO, 1985). Top, General Kléber (in Henri Laurens, L'Expédition d'Egypte 1798-1801, Armand Colin, 1989)
The man had acted alone. He had revealed his project only to sheikhs of Al-Azhar, who attempted to dissuade him, while failing nonetheless to alert the French authorities. Sheikhs El-Sharqawi and El-Arishi were immediately summoned and initiated the arrest of the Azharites. A military tribunal was held on 15 and 16 June, and sentenced the Aleppine to amputation at the wrist, as well as public impaling. The Azharites were allowed only a simple beheading.
Laurens feels that El-Gabarti, who was writing the last version of his chronicle at this time of trouble and devastation, was impressed by the "exemplary" aspect of the procedure followed by the French: "these people, guided only by reason, behaved in a more worthy and just manner than the supposed Muslims devastating Egypt." Contrary to certain commentaries, he adds, this does not imply the superiority of reason over Islamic revelation; simply a moral condemnation of those governing Egypt at the time.
After Kléber's death, the cannon was fired every half-hour. On the morning of 17 June, a series of artillery salvos coming from the Citadel and the different forts announced the beginning of the funerary honours. The remains, carried on a chariot covered with a black velvet carpet sprinkled with "tears of silver," surrounded by the military trophies, the helmet and the sword of the general, made its way through the streets of Cairo before heading towards Ibrahim Bey's land on the outskirts of the city. Fourier read the elegy, then the army filed by, leaving laurel and cypress crowns. After the burial, those attending moved to see the assassin's martyrdom. The trembling sheikhs were beheaded first, then Barthélémy burned the assassin's wrist before impaling him. Soliman El-Halabi, according to Laurens's sources, behaved courageously, reciting the Islamic profession of faith and verses from the Qur'an. The spectators were soon bored of the spectacle, however, and dispersed. Soliman El-Halabi lived four more hours. According to Laurens, a compassionate French soldier gave the unfortunate man a drink once everyone had gone, knowing full well that he would thus bring about his immediate death...
As the scientific spirit is never absent, comments Laurens, "Larrey obtained permission to take the corpse of Soliman El-Halabi for his collection. The skull of Kléber's assassin was displayed, for years, to students of medicine, who were shown the bump of crime and fanaticism, before ending up in the Musée de l'Homme."
Henri Laurens et al., L'Expédition d'Egypte 1798-1801, Armand Colin, 1989
A matter of principle
The same sequence of events has been recounted in a somewhat different way by Desmond Stuart in his Great Cairo: Mother of the World (AUC Press, 1996). "On June 14 a young Syrian Muslim, Suliman El-Halabi, assassinated Kléber in his garden near Ezbekiah. His motives have been ascribed to fanaticism; more probably, they were due to a feeling of Islamic solidarity with a country overrun by infidels. Suliman involved against their will three sheikhs of al-Azhar in his plot. The sentences on the four men adjudged guilty showed a curious departure from the professed aims of the Revolution. The three men of religion were beheaded, while Suliman himself was to have his offending right arm burnt off to the elbow, after which operation he was to be impaled. (The missionaries of the Revolution, which in France had introduced the supposedly humane guillotine, argued that only the traditional punishments would teach the requisite lesson.) Barthélémy (who normally sold glass knickknacks in a bazaar near Khan al-Khalili) let some of the burning tar fall on the young man's forearm. With extraordinary presence Suliman pointed out that he was exceeding the penalty. During his subsequent impalement, he cried out that he thirsted. A French officer, unable to stand the sight, rushed forward with a glass of water. The executioner dashed it to the ground. 'Don't do that, sir,' he shouted. 'The first sip, and he'll be dead.' His death took several hours to accomplish."
The custom of the country
Collection of the Pieces Relative to the Trial and Judgement of Soleyman El-Hhaleby, Assassin of the General-in-Chief, Kléber
Cairo
The National Press
year VIII of the French Republic"[...] The abovementioned, asked his name, age, domicile and profession, replied that his name was Soleyman, a native of Syria, aged 24, an Arab scribe by profession, and had been heretofore a resident of Hhaleb (Aleppo).
"Asked how long he has been in Cairo.
"Replied that he has been here for five months, and that he came with a caravan, of which the driver is the Arab sheikh Soleyman Bourygy.
"Asked his religion.
"Replied that he was a Muslim, has already lived three years in Cairo, and three others in Mecca and Medina.
"Asked if he knows the Grand Vizir, and if he saw him recently.
"Replied that an Arab like himself does not know the Grand Vizir.
"Asked who his acquaintances are in Cairo.
"Replied that he has none, but that he is often near the great mosque called gamè el-azhar, that he is known to all, and that many will testify to his good conduct.
[...]
"Asked how he was caught in the General-in-Chief's garden.
"Replied that he was not caught in the garden, but on the main road.
"Informed that he was not telling the truth, since the General's guides caught him in the garden where he was hiding, and even found a dagger, which was shown to him.
"Replied that it was true that he was in the garden, but he was not hiding; that he was sitting there, because horsemen were guarding all the avenues [...]; that he had no dagger, and does not know whether there was one in the garden.
"Asked why he had been following the General-in-Chief since the morning.
"Replied that it was for the pleasure of seeing him.
[...]
"Informed that the wounds to his head prove that he was the one who assassinated the General, since Citizen Protain, who was with him, and who recognises him, struck him with a stick that wounded him.
"Replied that he was wounded only when he was caught.
[...]
"Since the accused persisted in his denials, the General ordered that he receive a beating following the custom of the country: it was administered immediately, until he declared that he was prepared to tell the truth; he was untied, and interrogated once more in the following manner..."
