not be accentuated but toned down through the application of the principle of the assimilation of the diverse populations under one beneficial government, whereas the confirmation of religious differences, through their institutional and geographical sanction, would only lead to more conflicts and wars. Moreover, the establishment of a separate Christian entity along the coast could not solve the problem. It could only pit the Christians living in this new state against those of the Muslim interior and endanger the fate of those living inside and outside that state.41 In addition, it begged the question as to why the Christians of the interior should not benefit from the guarantees and privileges granted to those on the coast.
In contrast, the establishment of an independent Christian Greater Lebanon, disconnected from its Muslim Syrian interior, was then energetically defended by the commander-in-chief of the French Expeditionary Force, by most French publicists, and by the Maronite clergy. It was based on another perception of the Lebanese and Syrian questions that commanded a different sort of solution. Its emergence at that time opened up another episode in the development of the “Franco-Lebanese dream” that had fascinated certain Maronite and French circles for years past.
THE FRENCH EXPEDITION
The first detachments of the French Expeditionary Force reached Beirut at the beginning of August 1860. Officially, its mission consisted of helping the Ottoman authorities reestablish law and order, in coordination with the special representative of the Sultan, Fuad Pasha. From the start, however, this specific and straightforward task was shrouded in ambiguity and misunderstandings. The novelty of the force's role, consisting of a sort of peace-keeping mission avant l'heure, was quite perplexing for this epoch. The force was not sent to wage war against any enemy. Nor was it to intervene in or stop any ongoing fighting since hostilities had already ended by the time of its landing. Military speaking, its presence was therefore unnecessary. It was only meant to assist the repressive and pacificatory efforts of the Ottoman authorities, if and where need be. Ultimately, given the reluctance of Fuad Pasha to allow it to play any significant role, the French force proved redundant.
The mission of the French force was essentially moral and preventive. Its dispatch was understood by its proponents as a symbolic warning from Europe to the perceived fanatical population and a sort of guarantee against the recurrence of new massacres. But, the mere presence of these French troops, as well as the political activity of its commander-in-chief, General Beaufort d'Hautpoul, conferred much more significance to this unprecedented European military enterprise in the Asiatic provinces of the Ottoman Empire than its limited character warranted. Local Maronite circles and French officials and publicists also contributed to the enhancement of the import of this experiment.
For many Frenchmen, the dispatch of French forces augured a more interventionist French policy in the Levant. Catholic circles, outraged by the massacre of Christians by perceived fanatical Muslims, cried out for vengeance. For them, retribution was to be twofold. It would avenge the blood of the recently slain Christians and would by the same token allow redress for the Crusaders’ debacle. Their views hardly disguised their feeling that a new round in the long-standing conflict between Christian and Muslim worlds had been opened. They hinted at the persistence of a certain Western historical vision and worldview imparting a religious character to the conflict between West and East and to the renewed appeal of the Crusader episode. The French press, as well as many contemporary pamphlets and narratives, were full of these kinds of allusions. Hence, the renowned Orientalist and future ambassador to Istanbul, Melchior de Vogüé, wrote on the eve of the arrival of the French forces in Syria: “It is as Christians, as adversaries of Islamism, that the Maronites, the peaceful residents of Damascus and other places, were massacred; it is as Christians that we must avenge them. The Cross has been deeply wronged; now it is the Crescent's turn. The whole of Christian civilization has been challenged; let it show its power.”42 As for the publicist Baptistin Poujoulat, the analogy between the departing French forces and the Crusaders, was crystal clear: “What did our ancient Crusaders intend to do in the East? Exactly what the expeditionary army of 1860 is going to do: wage war against Muslim barbarity. Let there be no mistake, then: the French soldiers . . . are also Crusaders. The aim of the West's expedition to the East in the Middle Ages was no different from the aim of today's expedition: to drive Islamism back into the desert, where it should always have remained.”43 With more verve still, some were dreaming of a new Godeffroy de Bouillon who would soon enter Ste. Sophie,44 or of the revival of the Frankish kingdom in the Levant and the restoration of the Byzantine Empire in Constantinople.45
Even Napoleon III, who did not share the blind enthusiasm of Catholic circles, for whose satisfaction he had mainly undertaken this adventure in the Levant, could not prevent himself from alluding to these glorious and momentous historical events in an address to the departing French soldiers: “You are not going to wage war against any nation but to help the Sultan bring back to obedience subjects blinded by a fanaticism from another century. You will do your duty in this land far away, rich in memories, and you will show yourselves the dignified children of those heroes who gloriously brought the banner of Christ to that land.”46 Beaufort, for his part, admonished his soldiers at the beginning of their mission, reminding them that in “these famous lands Christianity was born, and Godeffroy de Bouillon and the Crusaders, General Bonaparte, and the heroic soldiers of the Republic honored themselves. There you will find again glorious and patriotic memories.”47
For their part, some French liberal circles, less sensitive to these overwrought religious sentiments, were advocating an emancipation of the Christians of the Ottoman Empire from the Ottoman hold in the name of civilization and the then-popular principle of nationalities. In their view, the end of the Ottoman Empire was inevitable and the diverse Christian nationalities that inhabited it were the legitimate and rightful heirs to its provinces. Such an option also had the advantage of avoiding a perilous annexation of Ottoman territories by foreign countries, and especially Russia. Expressing such an opinion, the French former deputy, Saint Marc Girardin, asserted: “Neither the Turks nor the Russians! . . . There is in the Orient others than the Russians to replace the Turks: There are the Christian of the Orient . . . since the principle of nationalities, if it is bound to prevail somewhere, must prevail above all in the Orient.”48
French nationalist circles, finally, more concerned about the prestige of France and its international influence, extolled the firm policy of their government in 1860, secretly anticipating a reassertion of France's former supremacy in the Levant and a revival of its international glory. The French expedition of 1860 presented an opportunity to reverse the effects of 1840, when a coalition of four European powers and the Ottomans had ousted France's protégé, Muhammad Ali, from Syria and, indeed, to reverse the whole balance of power established in Europe in 1815. At any rate, the nationalists argued, since the expansionist drive of the West “had become the main characteristic of our epoch,” France had to follow an aggressive policy in the Levant if it wanted to retain its prestige and position as a great power.49 Finally, in this same expansionist spirit, certain business and financial circles were beginning to perceive the potential of the Syrian market and welcomed an initiative that should reassert France's political, economic, and trading position.50
For the Maronite clergy, and indeed for many Maronites, the French expedition represented the realization of an unhoped-for salvation. Though it came too late to save the Maronites from their crushing military defeat and tragedy, it was welcomed as an unanticipated event that would allow them to compensate for their military setbacks. The landing of the French forces bolstered the position of the Maronites, and, as a token of his deep gratitude, the Maronite Patriarch, Mgr Boulos Mas'ad, wrote a letter to Napoleon III, underlining the fact that the manifestation of his interest for the Maronites had “saved them from the abyss” and occurred just at “the moment when despair was filling our heart.” He also expressed his confidence that the emperor would press for the adoption of the appropriate measures to ensure the security of the Maronites and the Christians in all Syria.51
BEAUFORT'S PLAN
In
