3 - 9 October 2002
Issue No. 606
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Al-Ahram: A Diwanof contemporary life (462)

Man with a past

Dr Yunan Perhaps no political figure in Egyptian history before 1952 stirred up as much conflicting opinion as Ismail Sidqi. Though he was hugely unpopular some have credited him for his pragmatism and willingness to seek practical solutions to the country's problems instead of trying to curry favour with the people. Professor Yunan Labib Rizk* profiles a man of many sides

 Ismail Sidqi was one of the few politicians who rejected demagoguery in an era when inflaming the passions of the masses was common currency. Yet in many circles he was despised. What gave rise to such a polarisation of opinion over this figure, the protagonist of the "Sidqi era", which lasted five years (1930- 1935) out of the 30-year history of the post-constitutional parliamentary system (1923-1952)?

From the outset of his term as prime minister, Ismail Sidqi did not sit well with the public. But then, there was little in his past to inspire confidence. Sidqi was born in 1875, in the heart of the Egyptian countryside, in the village of Al-Gharib, in the district of Zifta. His father, Ahmed Shukri Pasha (Ismail Sidqi had two first names) had been a senior government official in the age of the Khedive Ismail. Educated in France, Shukri rose through the government ranks until he became governor of Cairo and then deputy minister of interior. His mother, Fatma, was the daughter of Mohamed Sayed Ahmed Pasha, head of the royal cabinet under Said Pasha.

Sidqi relates in his memoirs that his father had originally named him Ismail Seddiq, after a prominent minister under Ismail, but changed his name to Sidqi after Seddiq fell out with the khedive for fear that the monarch's anger might somehow rub off on his son.

Educated in French schools, Sidqi obtained his baccalaureate at the age of 14, which presented a problem upon applying to the Royal School of Law, with its minimum age qualification of 15. The problem was easily overcome, however, through the intercession of his father with the minister of education, Ali Mubarak. In his memoirs, Sidqi boasts that he came out at the top of his class in the licentiate exams.

He devoted a considerable portion of his memoirs to his meteoric rise in government. Beginning in the office of the public prosecutor at an annual salary of LE5, Sidqi's career advanced quickly. He was taken under the wing of Mohamed Said, chief public prosecutor of Alexandria and later prime minister. Consequently, it was not long before he leaped from the prosecutor's office to the post of administrative secretary of the Alexandrian municipal board at a salary of LE30. He remained with the board for 10 years, during which he was promoted to its secretary- general.

When Said became minister of interior under Boutros Ghali (1908), he created a post especially designed for his protégé. As "secretary-general" of this ministry, at the age of 33, Sidqi was given the powers of a deputy minister. Then, two years later, when Said became prime minister after the assassination of Ghali, Sidqi became the actual deputy minister of interior.

Surprisingly, Said's fall from power in 1914 did not affect Sidqi. On the contrary, he became minister of agriculture under Hussein Rushdi -- testimony both to his abilities and to his class affiliations, which generally protected such individuals from political fluctuations. It was also, perhaps, testimony to the meritocracy that was prevalent in those times.

With the declaration of the British protectorate over Egypt later that year and the reshuffling of the Rushdi cabinet, Sidqi was handed the portfolio of the newly-created Ministry of Awqaf (religious endowments). However, Sidqi remained in this position for only a few months. In his memoirs, Sidqi relates: "The late Hussein Rushdi Pasha was a friend of mine, and I had accompanied him into government, firstly in the Ministry of Agriculture and then in the Ministry of Awqaf. When I resigned during the war, distancing myself from the constraints of government, he sought to benefit from my expertise and chose me as chairman of the Committee for Trade and Industry."

Official documents are obscure about the circumstances of Sidqi's departure from that office: a mere one-line decree from Sultan Hussein Kamel states, "Ibrahim Fathi Pasha, director of Al- Gharbiya, has been appointed Minister of Awqaf, replacing Ismail Sidqi Pasha who has resigned." However, the British Foreign Office file on Sidqi tells another story. The young minister became embroiled in an amorous affair with the daughter of Yehia Ibrahim and the woman committed suicide. Although martial law, which the British had declared upon the onset of the war, prevented the press from publishing the scandal, the rumour mill could not be stopped. That Sidqi, in his capacity as minister of awqaf, had an important religious function, rendered the scandal all the more appalling. To our knowledge, Ismail Sidqi was the first minister to have been caught in dalliance with a woman.

Although his contemporaries thought that this scandal marked the end of his career, Sidqi proved them wrong. In 1918, he surfaced again as one of the leading figures in the national independence movement, becoming one of the three to be exiled along with Saad Zaghlul to Malta in March 1919. He then became one of the members of the Egyptian delegation that went to Paris to present the Egyptian cause to the peace conference. But in this capacity, too, he did not last long -- three months later the Wafd dismissed him. The reason, according to Sidqi: "I found that my opinions on how to handle matters were at odds with those of my colleagues. I was not inclined to let emotions rule. Rather, my policy has always been to defer to the practical."

Historical works relate that Sidqi, along with Mahmoud Abul- Nasr, took such strong issue with Zaghlul and the rest of the delegation over whether to bring up the outrages committed by British forces in Nazlat Al-Shawbak and Al-Aziziya that they decided to withdraw from the delegation. British archives, on the other hand, indicate that Zaghlul and his colleagues were uncomfortable with Sidqi's membership in the delegation because of the scandal still attached to his name and had been waiting for an opportunity to get rid of the man with a past.

Certainly Sidqi's pragmatism asserted itself after this when he agreed to assume the Ministry of Finance portfolio in Adli Yakan's first cabinet (1921) and to take part in the negotiations with Curzon. Indeed, he boasts in his memoirs of being one of the contributors to the Declaration of 28 February 1922, recognising Egypt's formal independence, and to the constitution that was promulgated the following year. However, he met disappointment, again, in the first constitutional parliamentary elections, having been bested in his constituency by a relatively unknown candidate from the Wafd Party.

Not one to remain out of the limelight for long, Sidqi reappeared as a member of the Ahmed Ziwar cabinet that assumed power following the collapse of the Zaghlul government in 1924. As minister of interior, Sidqi built up a notoriety that would ensure his widespread unpopularity. It was he who set the precedent for direct government intervention in the 1925 parliamentary elections. In addition to the redrawing of 106 out of 214 voting constituencies in order to hamper the chances of the Wafd, he issued instructions that ballots were to be filled out in pencil rather than ink -- clearly a sign of the government's intent to forge. He also held meeting with governors and directorate chiefs to urge them to do what they could to prevent individuals known for their Wafd affiliations from fielding themselves as candidates. His campaign dropped to its lowest point with the edict he issued in the week of balloting, prohibiting public assembly in the areas near the polling stations, establishing roadblocks in the vicinity of the polling stations and prohibiting rallies and demonstrations on election day itself. The decree further threatened legal measures against students who participated in the electoral campaign if they were not registered in the electoral lists. Naturally, none of these precautions succeeded in keeping the Wafd from sweeping the polls but they did establish Sidqi as an implacable enemy of the powerful populist party.

In 1925, Sidqi headed the Egyptian negotiating team in the talks with the Italians over Egypt's western borders. In his memoirs, he boasted of having gained for Egypt the strategic area of Sallum in exchange for only the few acre-wide Jaghboub Oasis. Although, he refused to sign the agreement that resulted from these negotiations, leaving that task to Ziwar, he has gone down in Egyptian history as having needlessly squandered a portion of the nation's territory.

If Sidqi's record tells anything, it is that if he fell off his horse he would hasten to get on again, but also that he had no compunction about changing horses midway. This characteristic is evident during his term as MP at the time when Zaghlul was speaker of the house. Although he maintains in his memoirs that he was very close to Zaghlul, this did not prevent him, along with others, from aspiring to fill the vacuum the nationalist leader left upon his death in 1927.

Sidqi was, above all, an ambitious man. His name had been put forward as a candidate for prime minister following the resignation of Mustafa El-Nahhas's first government. Although the position fell to Mohamed Mahmoud, he bided his time until the opportunity arose again. This was not long in coming.

Early in the summer of 1930, El-Nahhas threw the gauntlet down in the form of his resignation he presented to the king. Fouad took up the challenge and, just as the Wafd was preparing huge mass demonstrations in support of El-Nahhas, he issued a statement accepting El-Nahhas's resignation and charging Sidqi with forming Egypt's 41st ministerial cabinet. Sidqi had much in his favour -- royal patronage and British approval -- but his past pursued him.

At the same time, it must be said, the circumstances were not propitious for any new prime minister. Expressing the general consternation at the time, Al-Ahram remarked, "We are without a doubt in the midst of a grave crisis; it is not merely a ministerial crisis. Were it such, matters would be much simpler. However, the crisis is political and constitutional and, as such, it compels lengthy and profound contemplation."

The editorial continues, "If this new government that has come to power today is unconstitutional, then for the sake of what it hopes to accomplish tomorrow it must not lend itself to political action in the absence of parliament. Its task must be to resume what has been interrupted, thereby demonstrating its virtue and the nobility of its intent." Al-Ahram was overly optimistic, as the following days would prove.

The next day, Al-Ahram announced the composition of the Sidqi government. It would have done little to assuage the public's apprehension to learn that, in addition to being prime minister, Sidqi also handed himself the Ministry of Interior and Ministry of Finance. Although some assumed that this was because of the short time he was given to form a cabinet, time confirmed that Sidqi was determined to retain his grip on the reins of power. As already noted, he had demonstrated his prowess in the interior during the 1925 elections, but he also had considerable economic expertise to bring to bear on the repercussions Egypt was suffering from under the global economic crisis. Before becoming prime minister, he had executive positions in 11 important companies: chairman of the board of directors of the Egyptian Electricity Company, general director of the Kom Ombo Company, chairman of the board of directors of the German Oriental Bank, president of the Egyptian Pharmaceutical Company and deputy chairman of the board of directors of the German Depot Company in Port Said, to name a few.

In its declaration of purpose, appearing in the same day's issue of Al-Ahram, the new government pledged to "instill peace of mind among the people and to work towards ensuring public order and safety. To achieve this end, the government intends to ground its actions on a solid foundation of justice and fairness towards all segments of society, whereby none shall have undue influence upon the government at the expense of another, for all shall be equal. The government is, therefore, resolved to maintain absolute political neutrality, and neither it, as a whole, nor its individual members shall have affiliations with any political organisation." So saying, Sidqi resigned from the Liberal Constitutionalist Party, as did his minister of foreign affairs, Hafez Afifi, while Ali Maher and Mohamed Tawfiq Rifaat resigned from the Ittihad Party.

Al-Ahram welcomed the government's declaration of neutrality and its members' decisions to resign from their parties under the headline, "Cabinet is national, not partisan". However, the newspaper had its own interpretation of this development, one that was consistent with Sidqi's record. The new government, it wrote, intended to treat all Egyptians equally, regardless of their political differences and their party affiliations. "Zeid will not be at an advantage because he is a Liberal Constitutionalist and Bakr will not be disadvantaged because he is a Wafdist or National Party member. If, indeed, there can be a skilful way of inaugurating rule, then this declaration is without a doubt very politically adept."

But the editorial could not help but notice the subtly couched warning in the declaration. The government "fervently hoped that circumstances would not compel it, in spite of itself, to pursue means and measures contrary to its intent," it said. Did this imply "a svelte glove concealing an iron hand?" Al- Ahram asked.

Such apprehensions were spelled out more explicitly in a Daily Herald commentary that Al-Ahram relayed to its readers. According to this British newspaper, King Fouad was averse to parliamentary rule. "He has always sought dictatorial rule, largely as the result of Fascist influence. The king was brought up in Italy, speaks Italian better than Arabic and is a great admirer of Mussolini. He saw for himself the enthusiastic mass reception that was accorded him upon his visit to Rome in 1927, which persuaded him that dictatorial rule is a marvelous system for monarchs to emulate."

This analysis would be born out through Sidqi. Only a day after forming the new cabinet, the prime minister issued an edict postponing the opening of the Wafdist-majority parliament for a month. When Speaker of the House Wissa Wassef and Speaker of the Senate Adli Yakan insisted that the edict be read out to a joint meeting of both assemblies, Sidqi agreed, but on one condition: that no member of parliament be permitted to speak following the recitation. Wassef objected, saying that such a condition constituted unwarranted interference on the part of the executive in the area of his jurisdiction. Sidqi countered by ordering the doors of parliament chained closed and armed troops stationed around the premises to prevent representatives and senators from entering the building at the appointed time. Six pm on Monday, 23 June 1930 marked an historic moment in Egyptian history, observed Al-Ahram's parliamentary correspondent who was on hand at the scene:

"Police began to surround the parliament building at 2.00pm this afternoon and soldiers lined up at each of the four junctions leading to parliament, wearing their familiar helmets and spaced a truncheon's width apart. Police and soldiers remained standing in their positions while the surrounding area remained empty until after 5.00 when the MPs began to arrive."

Soon the numbers swelled, "creating a large throng that began to shout out in protest, as one thought began to process them, which was to break the doors down. Then the leaders of the Wafd appeared: El-Nahhas, Makram, El-Nuqrashi, Bahyeddin Barakat. The first of these declared that the speaker of the house, when he arrived, had the right to order the police to unlock those doors because they should only take orders from the speaker of the house or senate."

The drama reached its climax with the arrival of Wassef at precisely 6.00pm. After briefly consulting with El-Nahhas, "the speaker of the house called over the chief of the police force and asked the meaning of locking closed the doors of parliament. The officer responded that it was not his affair, upon which the speaker ordered him to break the chains. The officer immediately summoned two sergeants, normally stationed in parliament as a precaution against fire. They had an ax which they hit the chains with until they broke. Wassef then pushed open the doors and signalled to the members of parliament to enter, which they did, chanting and clapping as they headed directly to the assembly hall and took their seats as normal."

Things were not proceeding as Sidqi had planned. True, order prevailed as he read out the decree postponing the opening of parliament. However, instead of remaining silent, as he had hoped, the members of parliament responded by reciting their oath "to defend the constitution with all the power, money and spirit of sacrifice I possess". Following this, the Al-Ahram correspondent reports, "there resounded throughout the chamber calls for the downfall of the new government."

"The day of breaking the chains," as these events were dubbed, was the subject of considerable commentary in the press, and not just the Egyptian press. Describing the atmosphere in Cairo that day as "electrified" and "gloomy", the Daily Telegraph correspondent in Cairo observed that violence had only been averted "by accident". He added, "It is well known that Sidqi Pasha does not like anyone to defy him." That certainly was the case that day. Following the parliamentary meeting he issued a statement claiming that the only reason the members of parliament had been able to enter the building was because he had issued "strict orders to the police to respect the MPs and not to intervene with their persons".

Three days later, in the Saadi Club, the Wafd held a national conference. Outside, security was tight, with "forces armed with rifles and truncheons stationed at the entrances to Qasr Al-Aini, Saad Zaghlul, Al-Falaki and Maglis Al-Nawwab streets". Al- Ahram continues, "In addition, a detachment of cavalry and motorcycle corps were deployed in those streets, under the command of the chiefs of Sayyida Zeinab, Abdeen and Helwan police stations and many police officers, both foreign and Egyptian, foremost among whom was Baker Bek, deputy police commissioner of the capital."

Commenting on the government's siege of the conference, Al- Ahram held that political parties had the right to convene for the purpose of deliberation and to publicise their principles and platforms. "Such is the course adopted by all constitutional countries", the newspaper wrote. But then, Al-Ahram could not have known what surprises Ismail Sidqi had in store, not only for political parties but for the constitution itself. That was a chapter yet to come in the life of this extremely controversial figure.

* The author is a professor of history and head of Al-Ahram History Studies Centre.

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