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” (1881). Note how Italy holds its head in its hands in dismay. Médiathèque Centrale d’Agglomération Émile Zola, Montpellier.
Since no concerted action against the French invasion was taken by European powers, they were obliged to make peace with the fait accompli once the Bardo Treaty was signed. Britain’s foreign office did so by sugarcoating its reproach of France: As important as friendly relations with France were to them, they would be “wanting in frankness” if they allowed the French foreign minister to believe France’s actions in Tunisia were well received in Britain. Moreover, Lord Granville added in his dispatch to the French ambassador in London, Paul-Armand Challemel-Lacour, whatever reason the French government offered for its action in Tunisia, “first as protection against the alleged designs of the Sultan for the Bey’s deposition, and secondly for the punishment of turbulent frontier tribes,” it nonetheless “can hardly be doubted that the Treaty with Tunis goes far beyond any question of security of the frontier, and amounts practically to a Protectorate, which they understood to have been disclaimed.” Even if Tunisia were now “practically” a protectorate, the British foreign office insisted that the “status quo” of their relations with the country be maintained. Lord Granville went on to enumerate the rights associated with the maintenance of that status quo, “in order that there may be no misapprehension hereafter.”28 The Italian Consulta, too, sought to avoid direct confrontation with France in the wake of the Bardo Treaty. The new foreign minister following Cairoli’s resignation, Pasquale Mancini, informed Consul General Licurgo Maccio in Tunis that it was “essential that nothing in your acts or language imply, for the King’s government, direct or indirect recognition of the faits accomplis and agreements between the Bey and France regarding which we have received no official communication from either party.” At the same time he also warned Maccio not to provoke conflict or do anything that could trigger “inopportune incidents” with France.29
As the Quai-d’Orsay saw it, since “all of Europe knew” that French designs had not been limited to the chastisement of the Khmirs,