of beylical sovereignty, since their own rights and those of their subjects hinged on his. The ongoing impact of the bey’s treaties with a variety of European nations, particularly Italy and Great Britain, was manifest in countless dimensions of Tunisian life—from property rights and taxation to criminal and civil law—and so ensued incessant jockeying with regard to issues large and small. This everyday maneuvering by residents of Tunisia will be examined in detail in the following chapters, but in order to understand how and why such behavior could affect Mediterranean politics more generally, it is worth considering the state of that politics at the time the protectorate was established, as well as what this form of governance meant for France, the bey, and the European governments maintaining interests in Tunisia.
When France launched an invasion of Tunisia in April 1881, the stated casus belli was the threat posed by the activity of the Khmir tribe of northwest Tunisia to France’s colony in Algeria.11 At the outset, the French government pledged to begin its expedition on the French side of the Tunisia-Algeria border, which French soldiers would cross only if “military operations required it.” As the British ambassador to France recalled his conversations with the French foreign minister, Jules Barthélemy-Saint-Hilaire, the latter had spoken “of the operations as if they would be confined to the neighbourhood of the frontier, and . . . directed only to the punishment of the lawless frontier tribes.”12 But as the invasion quickly extended beyond Khmir lands, Muhammad al-Sadiq wrote to inform the French that he regarded the invasion as “contrary to the rules of international law.”13 Several days later, he made his second plea for foreign aid in two weeks. In his letter to the British and Italian foreign ministers, he complained that instead of merely punishing the Khmirs, as the Quai-d’Orsay had continually promised both the bey and Europe was its sole intention, French troops had continued on to Le Kef, which they occupied, were marching on Béja, and had destroyed and occupied the forts at Tabarca. (See Map 1 in the Introduction.) A French garrison had even been stationed in the port of Bizerte, “on whose citadel,” he protested, “the French colors fly.” Under these circumstances, and claiming that he had tried to convince the French government of his good graces, the bey continued, “I leave my fate and that of my country in your hands and those of my Suzerain [the Ottoman Sultan] . . . to take whatever measures of mediation will stop the scourge of war experienced by the peaceful inhabitants of my Regency.”14 Muhammad al-Sadiq’s invocation of the sultan’s protection was consistent with the Husaynid beys’ tendency to draw on their relationship to the Porte for legitimacy when necessary.15 But with the sultan also weakened vis-à-vis Western Europe, this proved a rather futile gesture.
The bey was not the only one astonished by the French occupation of Tunisia; the British foreign office, too, had misjudged French ambitions. To be sure, it was no secret that in private discussions at the Berlin Congress of 1878, convened to settle disputes over the Balkans arising from the Russo-Turkish war, Britain’s foreign secretary Lord Salisbury had assured the French that Queen Victoria’s government had no interest in opposing future French preponderance in Tunisia. Benedetto Cairoli even had suspected at the time that France had acquiesced to the granting of Cyprus to Britain with these conversations in mind.16 Perhaps, then, it was disingenuous of Britain to claim surprise at the advent of the protectorate: France’s premier and foreign minister during the Berlin Congress, William Henry Waddington, recalled explicitly mentioning that France would want “formal recognition” of a “protectorate,” but Salisbury would only confirm the general thrust of the conversation and claimed not to remember if Waddington correctly recalled the “precise words” exchanged.17 Whatever was actually said in 1878, the British foreign office felt compelled to remind France as its invasion unfolded a few years later that her majesty’s government regarded Tunisia as a regency under the suzerainty of the Ottoman Porte, a position consistent with Britain’s desire (Cyprus excepted) to maintain an intact Ottoman Empire to counter Russian ambitions in the region.18 With some displeasure, the foreign office concluded that
FIGURE 1. La Complainte du Bey de Tunis. Note how the bey is sending smoke signals to Italy. Heidelberg University Library, “Le Grelot”; Journal illustre, politiqúe et satirique, 4. 1881, no. 524, page 1.
proceedings of a military nature such as have been instituted by the French, the occupation of Bizerta, and the destruction of the fort at Tabarca seem to be directed to some object beyond the mere chastisement of disorderly Arab tribes on the frontier, nor can [the British government] affect to misunderstand the intimations which have been given to your Excellency by M. Barthélemy St. Hilaire, that, although the French Government did not seek to establish a Protectorate, the new Treaty which would be imposed upon the Bey would be in the nature of one.19
The matter was of concern because the foreign secretary in 1881, Lord Granville, “had no wish to see France get an ‘overwhelming preponderance in the Mediterranean.’”20 More specifically, Lord Granville contended that “any measures which would affect the existing state of the African provinces on the Mediterranean could not be matter of indifference to the European Powers, many of whom, like Great Britain, have special Treaties with Tunis, entitling them to most-favoured-nation treatment in the Regency.”21 Tunisia itself was therefore less important to the British than what it symbolized: French control of the narrowest part of the Mediterranean after Gibraltar and of territory stretching from Algeria to the border of Tripolitania. And yet, despite these concerns, when the Ottoman sultan complained of the French invasion, the British prime minister, William Gladstone, told him that maintaining “the Concert of Europe” was his first priority.22 The interest in the “concert” also meant that Britain rebuffed Italian suggestions that they respond together to check the French advance in Tunisia; it simply was not worth the risk of alienating France. Britain was not playing a double game so much as it was trying to balance many different interests, including its own designs on Egypt.
The Italian take on the French invasion of Tunisia was understandably less phlegmatic. For one thing, Italians outnumbered all other Europeans in the Regency by a wide margin; at the time of the Bardo Treaty, Italians numbered at least 11,200, whereas the French settlement was as small as 700. British subjects from Malta, around 7,000 in number, also substantially outnumbered the French.23 The relative dominance of the Italian population, which persisted for most of the protectorate’s existence even as the French population grew, produced the oft-repeated remark that Tunisia was “an Italian colony administered by French functionaries.”24 Italy also had significant capital investments in the country, including the Tunis-Goletta rail line, owned by the Compagnia Rubattino. Moreover, as has become apparent by the migratory waves occurring in the wake of the overthrow of Tunisia’s authoritarian government in January 2011, only 140 nautical miles or so separate Tunisia from Sicily. Thus, if France established a military port at Bizerte, Italian leaders were bound to feel their nation’s security threatened. Italian politicians also were angered that Cairoli apparently had believed French leaders when they had assured him, in the wake of the Berlin Congress, that France would make no move in the Mediterranean without first consulting Italy.25 What “consultation” there had been was decidedly unequal. When the Italian government suggested, in 1879, that there should be an equal division of influence over Tunisia between Italy and France, the Quai-d’Orsay was intransigent in its refusal.26 Had Italy been a bigger player in world politics, it might have tried already to take Tunis for itself. Instead, it was a newly unified nation that joined the imperial game late. Much ink was also spilled recounting that Tunisian territory had been part of the Roman Empire and that many other historic, geographic, economic, and strategic interests bound the region to Italy. For Italian nationalists, especially those later writing during the fascist era, Tunisia could be regarded as a “prolongation of the Peninsula,” while the loss of it to France in 1881 had been a “humiliation.”27
FIGURE 2. Alfred Le Petit, “Carte pour suivre les operations de la guerre de Tunisie”
