For foreigners and the Egyptian aristocracy, the 1952 July Revolution marked the beginning of the end of their rule. Gone were the Muhammad Ali dynasty and the influence of the British, Italians, Greeks, French, Levantines, and Turks. Now there was a disgruntled military in charge and it was led by a young and charismatic officer named Gamal Abdel Nasser. His first order of business was to change the nature and make-up of the government, most notably changing the country from a monarchy to a republic. As a way of minimizing foreign opposition, he assured those concerned that their interests would not be touched. After purging the government, he turned to land reforms breaking apart feudal farms and distributing the land among landless peasants. Then, after successfully nationalizing the Suez Canal in 1956, his government turned to the industrial, financial and commercial sectors, forcing the vast majority of foreigners, who had believed that their interests were safe, to leave the country, many penniless. With the old-guard out of the way and the foreign influence gone, Nasser finally turned to the Eastern block for military assistance and backing.
Even though Nasser’s socialist reforms have been in place for the better part of the past 50 years, present-day Egypt is more like it was under the King, though not as chaotic and elitist; a trickle-down effect has in fact created a thriving Egyptian middle class. But the economic power stills lies with the Egyptian elite, albeit a different circle, and once again foreigners are allowed to settle, own businesses, buy property, and build a future. In fact, this past year Egypt was named by the International Financial Corporation, the World Bank’s financial arm, as the world’s top reformer. It achieved this by cutting the minimum time required to start a business, lowering fees for registering property, and relaxing bureaucracy for construction permits. Last year, Egypt also emerged as the number one recipient of direct foreign investment in Africa beating South Africa.
On a recent trip to Egypt, I visited the Red Sea resort town of El Gouna, one of the most exclusive resorts in the country. While admiring the Abu Tig Marina with all its multi-million dollar yachts, I ran into an elderly gentleman who was asking for directions to a particular shop. There was nothing unusual about his request except that the man, who was obviously European, addressed me in Arabic. At first I thought that he was short sighted, because I, too, look very European, and to avoid embarrassing him I responded in Arabic. He responded with a big smile, thanked me, and walked off in the direction where I had pointed.
I didn’t think much of the encounter until a few days later when I was invited to dinner by a friend who wanted to introduce me to a few Europeans who have made El Gouna their home. The group was small and included the Italian women who owned the restaurant where we were eating, two Italian sisters, an Italian man who was the manager of the local casino, and my Lebanese friend who runs the winery in El Gouna. The conversation started out in Italian, but because neither my friend nor I could follow, the group began to split with some switching to English and the others French except for the elder of the two sisters who continued on in Italian. When she finally realized that I didn’t understand a word she said she switched to Arabic which came naturally to her. I asked her if she spoke English or French and she said, “not very well.” I then told her the story about the elderly European man who also spoke to me in Arabic. She asked about where I had seen him and if he was wearing locally made sandals. I said: “Yes, he was wearing shibshibs and I met him in the Marina.” She started laughing so hard that everyone turned around to see what was going on.
Her younger sister then jumped in and in English explained to everyone that the elderly gentleman was none other than their father who had been born and raised in Egypt to Italian parents. After finishing his studies he started his own successful textile business in Cairo. “Everything was going well for him until 1961 when Nasser began nationalizing all foreign owned businesses. My father thought that he was immune and continued on with his business as if nothing was happening until one day, in 1964, our family business was nationalized and we were forced to leave the country.” With nowhere else to go, and very little money, the family moved to Italy. The eldest daughter had also been born and raised in Egypt learning both Arabic and Italian at the Italian school. The younger sister was born after they had already left Egypt. “Italy was always my home but my sister and especially my father were really never able to assimilate back in our ancestral country and my father always wished to one day return to Egypt.”
A few years ago the elder sister visited the Red Sea and was so charmed by El Gouna that she bought a home there. The younger sister followed, also fell in love with the place, and bought a home there also. Suddenly the father, whose wife had passed away, became very lonely without his daughters and insisted that they bring him back to Egypt. Thus, when he was already well into his 90s, his daughters brought him back to Egypt and bought him a small apartment. “My father never felt at home in Italy, he always wanted to come back to Egypt even if it is just to die.”
With foreign investment at an all time high, maybe this nonagenarian may be able to pick up where he left off and start another business in the land of his birth.
Norbert Schiller is a Dubai-based photo-journalist and writer.
