“However,” continued the speaker, “although this plan for an inland sea has been studied with scrupulous care, and although the geodesic operations were carried out with the strictest attention to detail, many naysayers tried to deny the advantages that the region would derive from this great work.”
One by one, Mr. de Schaller dealt with the arguments, published at the time in various newspapers, which had declared relentless war against Captain Roudaire’s undertaking.
First of all, it was argued that the canal intended to carry water from the Gulf of Gabès to Chott Rharsa and Chott Melrir would be so long, and the capacity of the new sea—twenty-eight billion cubic meters—would be so great, that the depressions could never be filled.
Next, it was claimed that the salt water from the Sahara Sea would percolate through the soil of the neighboring oases, rise to the surface by capillary action, and destroy the huge stands of date palms on which the economy of the country depends.
Then, too, there were critics who, quite seriously, predicted that the water from the sea would never reach the depressions, but would evaporate every day on its way through the canal. And yet, in Egypt, under the fiery rays of a sun at least as hot as that of the Sahara, Lake Menzaleth, which some claimed could never be filled, was indeed filled, even though the canal was at that time only one hundred meters wide.
It was also argued that it would be impossible, or at least extremely costly, to dig the canal. But when this was put to the test, it turned out that the soil between the Gabès ridge and the first depressions was so soft that the probe sometimes sank under its own weight.
Then came the most pessimistic of all the prognostications put forward by the critics of the project. Since the margins of the chotts were very flat, they would supposedly soon turn into pestilential breeding grounds, which would infect the area again. The prevailing winds, instead of blowing from the south, as the authors of the project claimed, would come from the north. The rain produced by evaporation from the new sea, instead of falling on the countryside of Algeria and Tunisia, would go to waste on the vast sandy plains of the great desert.3
These criticisms marked the beginning of a tragic and fateful period, in this land where fatalism reigns supreme. And its events remain engraved in the memories of everyone who lived in Tunisia at that time.
Captain Roudaire’s plans had fired the imaginations of some and aroused the speculative passions of others. Mr. de Lesseps, one of the former, had shown great interest in the matter until he turned his attention to the problem of cutting through the Isthmus of Panama.
However, all this could not fail to affect the attitudes of the local native inhabitants, both nomadic and sedentary. They foresaw all of southern Algeria falling under the control of the French, with the consequent loss of their security, their precarious livelihood, and their independence. If their desert was invaded by the sea, it would put an end to their centuries-old control. And so a widespread but concealed agitation began to grow among the tribes, gripped by the fear that their privileges, or at least those they granted to themselves, would be under attack.
In the meantime, a weakened Captain Roudaire died, more from disappointment than from illness, and the work he had dreamed of lay dormant for a long period. In 1904 Panama was bought by the Americans, and a few years later a group of foreign engineers and capitalists took up his plan where he had left off. They founded a company known as the France-Overseas Company,4 which started making preparations to begin the work and to carry it quickly to completion—first for the good of Tunisia and second for the prosperity of Algeria.
The idea of conquering the Sahara had occurred to a number of minds, and the push to carry this out was gathering momentum in the western Algerian city of Oran as Roudaire’s abandoned project was fading from view. The national railway had already gone beyond Beni-Ounif, in the oasis of Figuig, and was gradually transforming itself into the railhead for the Trans-Sahara.
“There is no need,” continued Mr. de Schaller, “for me to go back over all the operations of the France-Overseas Company, the energy it expended, or the massive projects it undertook—with more boldness than foresight. Its operations, as you know, extended over a vast territory, and since it had not the slightest doubt as to its success, it concerned itself with everything, including the forestry service to which it had assigned the task of stabilizing the dunes to the north of the chotts, using the methods employed in the Landes region of France to protect the seacoast against the twofold threat of sea and sands. Even before completing its projects, the company considered it necessary—indispensable, in fact—to protect existing towns and those still to be built from any unforeseen perils of a future sea that would certainly be no tranquil lake, and against which it would be well to be on their guard from the very beginning.
“At the same time, a whole system of waterworks had to be constructed to bring drinking water from the nearby streams. Surely it would be better not to offend the natives, as regards either their customs or their interests. That was the price of success. And it would be necessary as well to build ports that would quickly give rise to a profitable coastal trade.
“For these operations, which had begun everywhere at once, concentrations of workers and temporary towns sprang up almost overnight where almost complete solitude had reigned shortly before. The nomadic tribes, despite their strong moral resistance to the project, were held in check by the sheer number of workers. The engineers spared no effort, and their inexhaustible store of knowledge won the respect and complete confidence of the hundreds of men under their orders. At that moment, southern Tunisia began to turn into a veritable human beehive, giving no thought to the future. Speculators of all kinds, profiteers, swindlers, etc., did their best to exploit the first pioneers. The latter could not live off the land and were forced to depend for their existence on suppliers of dubious origin, who always appear wherever there are large masses of people.
“And over everything, over all these basic material necessities, hovered the idea of an ever-present but invisible danger—the feeling of an undefined threat, something comparable to the vague anxiety that precedes all atmospheric cataclysms. It troubled many people, surrounded by that vast solitude, a solitude that held a hint of something—no one knew what—but definitely something mysterious, in those almost limitless surroundings, where there was no living creature to be seen, neither man nor beast, and where everything seemed to be hiding from the eyes and ears of the workers.
“Through miscalculation and lack of foresight, gentlemen, the project ended in failure, and the France-Overseas Company was forced into bankruptcy. Since that time, nothing has changed, and what I have come here to speak to you about is the possibility of resuming this interrupted work. The company had tried to do too much at once—projects of the most widely varying kinds and speculations of every sort. Many of you still remember the sad day when it ran out of money before it had completed its overambitious program. The maps I have just shown you illustrate the work begun by the France-Overseas Company.
“But these unfinished works are still there. The climate of Africa, which is essentially protective, has certainly not eroded them, or at least not seriously. Our new Sahara Sea Company will purchase them for a sum to be negotiated, depending on the condition in which we find them. And they will serve as a legitimate stepping-stone to the ultimate success of this enterprise. It is essential, however, that we first closely examine them to see what use can be made of them. That is why I propose to inspect them carefully,