It is no longer possible to think of our occupation of Egypt as merely a stepping-stone on the road to India—‘the Englishman reaching far over to his loved India.’ Still less can it be looked upon solely as a means for the regeneration of Egypt and the education of her people till they are able to pass from a state of tutelage and stand securely by themselves. Certainly, great strides have been made in this direction. If Egypt were the whole matter we might hope that in time, but not in one or two generations, a race of native administrators might rise up, to whom the affairs of that country might safely be left. But Egypt is only a portion of the great country of the Nile. Looking southward from Alexandria or Suez, the horizon is only bounded by the sources of the Nile, and these do not well up at Assouan, as Herodotus was told. We might hope that the Egyptians would be capable of managing Egypt; but not the most sanguine enthusiast could imagine a period of time sufficient to make them capable of managing the Soudan. A cry of ‘The Soudan for the Soudanese’ would hardly be more ridiculous. The story of the binding of the Nile, incomplete as that story is at present, makes one thing, at least, perfectly clear, and that is, that all Nileland is one country. No divided sovereignty is possible; there must be one firm hand over all.
It would have needed a preternaturally keen eye to perceive that from the moment we began to patch the old Barrage the occupation of the whole Valley of the Nile was inevitable. Looking back, it is easy to see how it all followed in logical sequence. Everything depended on the Nile. The more Egypt was developed, the greater grew the need for the regulation of the water. The rulers of Egypt need have troubled little about the fate of countries divided from them by so many leagues of rainless desert, but for the link of the all-important river.
It sounds a far cry from the snows of Ruwenzori, the lakes and swamps of Equatorial Africa, or the rain-swept hills of Abyssinia, to the cotton-mills of Lancashire. The Egyptian peasant, lifting water on to the fields of the Delta, knows that the connection is close enough. We have our own direct commercial interest in holding the Valley of the Nile, and Egypt is still on the road to India. Apart, therefore, from the duties which rest upon us as a civilized Power, we are doubly responsible for the welfare of the people of the Nileland.
Fifty years ago a distinguished English sailor travelled to Khartoum and El Obeid, and published an account of his journey in a little volume entitled ‘A Ride across the Nubian Desert.’ In eloquent words he describes the wonders of the Nile’s course, and continues:
‘Surely the hand of the Almighty has traced it across the desert that it might be the union of distant nations. . . . Its mission is not yet accomplished; it is waiting to be the road to civilize Africa. But it is not an Eastern nation, and not the Mohammedan religion that can do it; and I am one of those who hope and believe that Providence will destine it for England. An English Government and a handful of Englishmen could do it. Cities would rise up at Assouan and Khartoum, whose influence would be felt over the whole interior. . . . I know, alas! the spirit of the age is against such thoughts, and there are even men who would wish to abandon our Empire; but I speak the voice of thousands of Englishmen who, like myself, have served their country abroad, and who do not love her least, who will never consent to relinquish an Empire that has been won by the sword, and who think the best way to preserve it is often by judicious extension.’
On many a stricken field the author of these prophetic words, Captain Sir William Peel, V.C., the hero of the Naval Brigade in the Crimea and the Mutiny, proved the sincerity of that love for his country of which he spoke so warmly. And now, after so many years and so many vicissitudes of fortune, an English Government and a handful of Englishmen are grappling with the work on which his heart was set.
PART II
THE NEW SOUDAN