Close To War

"War with Britain!" and "Long Live Russia!" cried angry mobs in Egypt's capital, as flames and gunfire rattled and roared in Cairo last week. As the sporadic sniping of the past year turned suddenly into something close to war, a British fleet steamed full speed ahead from Malta to Suez, and the world watched.

One significant shot keynoted the early stages of the rioting: the rifle shot that a fortnight ago killed Bridget Ann Timbers, an American nun, outside the convent in Ismailia where she had been stationed. The nun's death, for which each side blamed the other, was followed by bloody rioting in Ismailia, and a ruthless house-to-house search by the British for guerrillas and hidden weapons.

Mob protests against the search led in turn to a telephone call relayed from Britain's sorely tried Suez Commander in Chief Sir George Erskine to Egyptian Interior Minister Serag el Din. General Erskine's demand: the Egyptian police must hand over their weapons and evacuate the Canal Zone. Otherwise, warned the British commander, Ismailia's police headquarters would be "destroyed by force." Serag el Din turned the ultimatum down cold and ordered his policemen to "resist to the last bullet."

Bravely with Honor. A force of 1,500 British troops, supported by tanks, armored cars and field guns, rolled out against 1,000 Egyptian policemen in garrison. For six hours the tanks and machine guns pounded the four-story barracks building while the Egyptians, armed only with rifles, fought back with fanatic gallantry. "I don't think any of us," said one British reporter, "will ever forget the Egyptian police officer who walked out of the headquarters, both hands red with blood, demanding ambulances for his wounded." A British officer told him that ambulances would be permitted in only after surrender. "Impossible!" cried the young captain. "We'll give you no arms, only dead bodies."

The barracks were ruined when a shortage of ammunition at last forced the policemen to give up: 46 Egyptians lay dead; more than 800 were taken prisoner. Even the British commander was impressed. "Your men," he told the Egyptian police chief, "fought bravely and surrendered with honor, thereby earning the admiration and respect of the British forces."

Vengeance with Flames. The respect was not mutual. In Cairo, 75 miles to the southwest, Interior Minister Serag el Din took to the air and harangued the people with bogus tales of British atrocities in Ismailia. The British had routed Moslem women out of their beds, he said, and hauled them half-naked into the streets.

Premier Nahas Pasha's vacillating government, alternately blowing hot & cold on its people's incendiary nationalism, declared a state of emergency and met behind closed doors, to discuss ways of quenching the fires they had nurtured. A mob of university students, joined by many of the police sent out to control them, marched into the capital to de mand revenge for the dead and an immediate declaration of war against Britain. "The cabinet will decide tomorrow,"' a government minister told them. "Today! Today!" cried the mob.

From government headquarters, the rioting spread through the Anglicized Egyptian capital of Cairo, a city of two mil lion people. Frenzied mobs wreaked their vengeance on the oases of the hated Brit ish wherever they found them. Virtually every bar that catered to Westerners was wrecked. Three British-and American-owned movie theaters were set afire. Barclays Bank and several British-run clothing stores went up in flames. The sacrosanct Turf Club was invaded, its furnishings smashed, its building set afire, its precious liquor spilled. Even famed Shepheard's Hotel was swept up in the holocaust.

Founded in the heyday of British imperial expansion by a British innkeeper from Calthorpe in Norfolk, Shepheard's was a sprawling, 350-room structure built in 1891, a curious mixture of Moorish and Western in design, in the heart of Cairo's European district. Newsmen and businessmen, actors, archdukes, sultans, admirals, subalterns and field marshals thronged its corridors, its dining rooms, bar." Kitchener stopped in at Shepheard's after the Battle of Omdurman. Explorer Stanley dropped in after finding Dr. Livingstone. John Pierpont Morgan the Elder ate his last meal in Shepheard's. To readers of adventure stories the world over, Shepheard's was a pulsing heart of romance and intrigue. To most Britons, Shepheard's was Egypt. By last week's end, as clouds of black smoke swirled from more than 150 fires in embattled Cairo, Shepheard's was a smoldering, wasted ruin.

A Strange Quiet. After Cairo's violence had run its course, with an estimated 62 dead, the Wafdist (Nationalist) cabinet finally bestirred itself. Its leaders went to the palace, and winning Farouk's approval, clapped all Cairo under martial law. Curfew from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. was imposed; the press was put under censorship.

Sunday morning was like London after a blitz night, with cars overturned, burned buildings still smoldering, and a strange quiet. The cabinet met for three hours; the air was filled with the expectancy of a dramatic move: breaking off relations with Britain. But Nahas Pasha's ministers didn't get the chance.

King Farouk, whose own position was rendered almost as shaky as that of the British by the hog-wild nationalist uprising, abruptly fired the lot of them, with ironic thanks "for what you have done" and a reproof for failing to keep "security and order." To form the new government, he appointed an old friend and adviser: Aly Maher Pasha, 68, one of the richest men in Egypt, who has served twice be fore as Premier. As Chief of the Royal Cabinet when young Farouk first came to the throne as a boy of 16, Maher Pasha had formed and guided all the young monarch's early opinions.

As Premier at the outbreak of World War II, Maher dutifully followed the British lead and broke off diplomatic relations with the Axis in 1939. Later, when Maher began receiving visits from Goebbels, Mussolini's Balbo and their ilk, the British became suspicious and complained to Farouk. The King dismissed Maher, and in 1942 the British arranged to have him placed under "house arrest" for the duration of the war.

That sign of British displeasure is now a source of strength to Maher; yet the British are happy to see him in office, believing him "the strongest man in sight." "Now," said a British diplomat, "we don't care what his background is."

Taking office, Aly Maher surrounded himself with 'cabinet nonentities and kept for himself the Ministries of Foreign Affairs and Defense, confirming the impression that he has been instructed by Farouk to rule as a strong man. Under martial law, he is also military governor.

"Our national policy," said Aly Maher, "is to achieve evacuation [of the British] and unity of the Nile Valley [meaning Sudan] under the crown of Farouk . . . to maintain peace and security, and safeguard the rights of both natives and foreigners, in order to prove the government's ability ... to give the country a peaceful life."

That did not quite sound like a man eager to renew friendship with Britain. Yet London and Washington regarded his appointment, and Farouk's decisiveness in making it, as a turn for the better. Trying to negotiate with a strong man could be difficult, but trying to negotiate with a mob is impossible.

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