“J'ai manqué à ma fortune à Saint Jean d’Acre!”
I
The boundary line between tactics and strategy has long been a favorite subject of academic discussion. Various delimitations have been suggested hinging on the distinction between preparation and execution, or the point in time and space when contact is made between hostile forces. Although such considerations have a bearing on the matter, a more comprehensive though less definite boundary line is probably one based on the immutability of the principles involved. That strategy is a constant, not a variable, factor in operations is a truism. That tactics may change overnight is being abundantly proved these days.
The student of military and naval history is often surprised by the persistence with which certain areas reappear in the annals of warfare, sometimes after the lapse of many centuries. Technical changes in the art of war seem unable to affect them. Three battles have been fought at Thermopylae, the first in 480 b.c., the last during the Greek War of Independence, a space of over 2,300 years. Two naval engagements were fought at Lepanto, the celebrated one in which Don Juan of Austria “burst the battle line,” the second in 1772, 201 years later, when the Russians crushed a Turkish fleet on the same site. In fact, the area around Cape Skropha is a natural battle ground. I have in the course of a few hours crossed the scene of the Batties of Actium, Prevcza, and Lepanto. Illustrations could be multiplied ad infinitum, so I shall pass on to an outstanding one, one that may play a decisive part in the history now in the making.
“Egypt is the most important country in the world,” Napoleon is said to have remarked at Saint Helena, a farsighted remark as the voyages of discovery would seem, at first blush, to have displaced the Mediterranean as an artery of commerce with a corresponding lessening of the importance of the Isthmus of Suez as “an obligatory point of passage,” to quote Admiral Castex. Such, however, was far from being the case, even before the piercing of the Suez Canal, although a certain time lag occurred before it became apparent that the eastern approach to the Mediterranean from the Red Sea was as important strategically as the western approach from the Atlantic via the Straits of Gibraltar. The evolution of strategic thought concerning Egypt will repay examination. Its origin is lost in the haze of legend.
According to Strabo, Sesostris considered joining the Nile and the Red Sea in the year 1300 B.c., or thereabouts. Herodotus assures us that the Pharoah Necho sacrificed 120,000 laborers in the attempt. Darius, the Persian conqueror of Egypt, seriously contemplated renewing the endeavor but was dissuaded by the scientists of his time who informed him that the level of the Red Sea was so much higher than that of the Inland Sea that an inundation of lower Egypt would ensue. Before scoffing at the ignorance of the geographers of antiquity, it may be well to remember that Le Père, the engineer commissioned by Bonaparte to draw plans for a sea level canal, made the same objection. In fact, De Lesseps was to hear echoes of that myth. The Ptolemies, nevertheless, completed a Nile-Red Sea canal which Trajan later repaired. Remains of the embankment 20 feet high were discovered by Bonaparte and greatly fired his imagination. The Caliph Omar, after his conquest of Egypt, was urged to build a canal from sea to sea. Omar, however, saw in the canal a threat to the safety to his country, Arabia. One of his successors, El Mansour, blocked the existing Nile canal in order to prevent the exportation of grain from Egypt to Mecca and Medina, thereby starving those rebel cities into submission. Haroun-al- Rashid took the piercing of the isthmus under advisement but abandoned the plan for fear of the Byzantine Navy.
So far the possibilities that lay in Egypt as the site of an all-important waterway revolved on political or commercial axes. Such strategic considerations as may have been in the minds of the Egyptian rulers were minor in scope. The influence a canal might have on issues not connected with Egypt was a conception of major strategy far beyond the reach of their mentalities.
II
French interest in Egypt began during the Crusades. Jacques Coeur, the merchant prince and banker of Charles VII, carried on an extensive trade with Alexandria. The impetus he gave French commerce in the Levant survived his disgrace and death. Richelieu was at one time tempted to found a colony in Egypt that was to have been the first of a chain of outposts extending to India and even to Australia. Nothing came of this ambitious idea although French consuls in the Near East periodically advocated a protectorate over Egypt and the construction of a canal. Again the dominant thought was commercial or political, not strategic.
Major strategy was invented by a scientist and not by a soldier. In the hopes of diverting Louis XIV from his dream of subjugating the lesser German states, that versatile German, Leibnitz, elaborated a scheme whereby France would occupy Egypt, build a canal, and thereby be in a position so to threaten the Dutch possessions in India as to force a satisfactory settlement of the entire international situation. Armed with a letter from his sovereign, the Elector of Mainz, Leibnitz submitted his memorandum to the ministers of Louis XIV in 1672. They could see in it only another crusade. Holy wars had “ceased to be the fashion,” Pomponne informed the amateur strategist. Leibnitz’ report met the fate of most such documents. It was buried in the government archives. In 1803 General Mortier, then in command of the army occupying Hannover, came across a copy in the town library and sent it to Bonaparte. Whether this belated endorsement of a campaign that had by then ended in a pathetic failure was any consolation to the general who had planned it we do not know.
In 1738 d’Argenson again took the matter in hand. During the reign of Louis XV the possibility of a partition of Turkey made the first of its many appearances in European chancelleries. Choiseul seems to have revived the interest in Egypt by suggesting that France take that country as her share of the spoils. Disgrace of that minister and the refusal of Turkey to partition once more relegated the Egyptian project to a state of innocuous desuetude.
With the accession of Louis XVI Egypt was once more given careful consideration. English intrigue in the Levant was undermining French prestige and the favored position of the French trader, the result of the famous “capitulations,” was in danger of being lost. The outbreak of the War of American Independence gave France an exceptional opportunity to settle old scores with England both in the East and in the West. Hyder-Ali had started a formidable insurrection against British rule in India. The victories of Suffren had revived French hopes of regaining the lost comptoires. England, not Holland, was now the enemy. The new king began by sending a confidential agent to inspect the lay of the land and to make a report. The choice of Baron Tott was a wise one. His report was a comprehensive document in which every phase of the situation was gone into with German thoroughness. Once more action was deferred, probably for fear of opening up the troublesome Turkish question.
III
When Talleyrand took charge of the foreign relations of the new French Republic he therefore found a mass of information awaiting his perusal. What was more important he found the leader whose enthusiasm resulted in action. The fascination the Orient at all times exercised over Napoleon’s imagination has frequently been attributed to a spirit of mysticism. Be that as it may, in advocating the occupation of Egypt Bonaparte was but giving an illustration of what Carlyle has called his “ineradicable feeling for reality.” Unless and until France could establish a naval superiority in the Channel, an invasion of England was out of the question. Unless and until France by a succession of successful land operations could secure control of the scacoast of Europe, England could not be excluded from the continental markets. The only remaining way of humbling England was to menace India. The report Bonaparte made to the Directoire under date of February 23, 1798, speaks volumes for the realism with which at that time he viewed the strategical problems of France.
The failure of the French occupation of Egypt, in spite of a lucky and auspicious beginning, is too well known to require retelling. It is the classical illustration of sea power nullifying victorious land operations. The Battle of the Nile sealed the doom of the expeditionary force and rendered ultimate capitulation inevitable. In justice to Bonaparte, however, it should be pointed out that he had given Brueys orders to sail for Corfu, there to harass British communications, a much surer way of protecting the French Army in Egypt than by making a Roman holiday for Nelson. The destruction of the French Fleet in Aboukir Roads cannot be blamed on Bonaparte, who on this occasion had a much clearer understanding of naval strategy than the admiral who disobeyed his orders. Cut off from his Mediterranean bases, the only recourse left to Bonaparte was to attempt the capture of Constantinople and thus “take Europe in the rear,” to quote the instructions of the Directoire. The forlorn hope came to grief in Syria.
Nevertheless, the Egyptian campaign demonstrates one fact that is more important today than ever. It was a bold flight of major strategy which, if successful, would have compelled Great Britain to divert forces from the defense of the British Isles to an extent that might well have proved disastrous in the presence of an alert and efficient naval opponent. Even after the capitulation of the French Egyptian army the fear of a renewal of the venture haunted the British High Command, as Nelson’s movements during the Trafalgar campaign clearly reveal. The control of the Channel for the few brief hours so ardently craved for by the Emperor might have been his had France been able to hold on in Egypt. No wonder Napo- lean exclaimed in his declining years: “J’ai manqué à via fortune à Saint Jean d’Acre!”
IV
And now for the modern counterpart. The war Great Britain is waging against the Axis is essentially the same as the one she waged against Revolutionary France and her client states. “The Carthaginians of the North Sea,” to quote Heine’s definition, “will always find a militaristic land power to oppose the thalassocratic rule they have long imposed on the world.” England’s war aims have not changed in 250 years. The line-up is all that changes. Now, as in Heine’s time, Britain is fighting to prevent the formation of a continental bloc self-sufficient enough to dispense with her services as a carrier and a trader. A compact Mittel Europa would reduce England to the status of another Holland. To stave off that evil day Britain has fought France—Bourbon, Revolutionary, Napoleonic—blocked Russia; then allied herself with both to crush Imperial Germany; only to find that an idea that springs from the very nature of things is indestructible.
In view of this analogy it is not surprising to find operations in the Mediterranean gradually falling into a familiar pattern. The naval weakness of Austria prevented the First World War from so doing, although even then Turkey made an ineffectual attempt to do what Italy is now attempting. The Axis finds itself today much in the same position as the Directoire found itself in 1798. The control of the Channel required for an invasion of the British Isles is still beyond German reach. To be sure, England has been excluded from the Continent but world markets are still open to her, in spite of U-boats. It would seem as if Egypt had again become a “most important country.”
For Mussolini to succeed where Bonaparte failed is, however, a stupendous assignment. Needless to say, the Italians are making heavy weather in all of Africa. In their defense it should be said that they have more than Mamelukes with which to contend. The British today have a firm grip on Egypt. Nevertheless, the predicament in which the Fascists find themselves raises one interesting query, aside from the obvious one concerning the effect of repeated defeats on the Fascist r6gime. Is Axis solidarity in danger?
The Italian plan to invade Egypt was not successful, but it was perfectly sound Napoleonic major strategy. In no other way could Mussolini achieve his other objectives and gather the missing fractions of Italia Irredenta into the fold. “Side shows” will get him nowhere, as the Greek campaign is demonstrating. Hitler, however, is as vitally concerned with the fate of Egypt as is Mussolini. It would be a grave mistake on the part of the German leaders to treat the Egyptian venture as a local and limited operation designed to give Italy control of the waterway connecting her Libyan colony with her newly acquired Abyssinian empire. To do so would be to ignore the fundamental strategic concept first expounded by one German, Leibnitz, later expanded by another German, Tott, and adopted by the foremost soldier of history, Bonaparte.
Italian failures seem to have been largely the result of imperfect industrialization which has manifested itself in unsatisfactory performance in the air. It would require but a relatively unimportant diversion of planes now being used in questionable raiding of the British Isles to effect a change in the African situation. In giving the Italian forces such assistance as they may need Germany is not conferring a favor on her partner. She is merely serving her own cause. A voice in the affairs of Egypt is an essential part of her Weltpolitik. In no other way can she secure the recognition of the “new order” she hopes to establish. Neither the Luftwaffe nor the submarine is likely to displace the classic method of waging war against Britain. Whoever has a foothold in Egypt has a strangle hold on England. Hence British opposition to the construction of a canal by France, hence British determination to control it once it was constructed in spite of her opposition. Failure to discern this century-old lesson of history in time may cause the Fuehrer in his declining years to exclaim: “J’ai manqué à ma fortune à Sidi Barrani!”