DOWNTOWN CAIRO, a khedivial creation of the nineteenth century, has suffered neglect and steady decay since the 1950s. Elegant hotels, palaces and villas have given way to shoddy apartment buildings, ramshackle storefronts and improvised parking garages. The elite fled to more congenial surroundings in the suburbs, and in a matter of decades, Cairo’s city center was completely de-gentrified.

Khedive Ismail’s beautiful quarter and all of its architectural treasures have been abandoned to powers whose least concern was to respect this particular heritage.

At the turn of the twenty-first century, however, a number of well known architects and intellectuals sounded the alarm, attempting to raise public awareness in a bid to save the few buildings that had, for the time being, escaped the general decay.

One such building is a much-abused palace that stands incongruously on Champollion Street, a stone’s throw from the Supreme Court, amidst mechanics’ workshops, popular cafés and commercial apartment buildings. The walls of what was once its garden are covered in posters and graffiti. Peeking through the gates, one finds a grim view of the terminally neglected, dingy architectural treasure: a palatial stone construction with two wings, featuring tall columns and a central (now-shattered) bay window. As the sun sets on busy Champollion Street, the broken glass ominously reflects the sun’s dying rays, helping the princely abode take on the aura of a rotting, bat-infested ghost house.

The building, however, was never abandoned — far from it. To know more about its history one must turn to social historian Samir Raafat, who describes it in Cairo: The Glory Years.

“To begin with,” writes Raafat, “the architect was Antonio Lasciac, Egypt’s renowned palace builder [H]is clients included members of the khedivial family, Cairene notables and trusted institutions. Among his most visible works are Banque Misr on Mohamed Farid Street and the palace of Princess Nimet Kamal Al-Din across from the Arab League.”

The original owner was Prince Said Halim Pasha, a grandson of the great wali of Egypt, Mohammed Ali. The palace’s decorative motifs bear testimony in the form of his monogram SH imprinted in the stone. Prince Halim’s father could have been the ruler of Egypt had Khedive Ismail not disregarded tradition and coaxed the sultan in Istanbul to change the rule of primogeniture, thus favoring Ismail’s own son instead of the oldest male member of the reigning family.

Prince Said was born in Shubra Palace but grew up in Istanbul. It was the strong Italian tradition of architecture that inspired his Cairene palace, which was constructed almost exclusively from Italian-imported materials and decorations.

According to Raafat, Prince Halim’s wife, Amina Indji Toussoun — herself a great-granddaughter of Mohammed Ali — did not care much for the palace, preferring to live in Istanbul. As for the prince, he replaced Mahmoud Shevket Pasha, prime minister of the Ottoman Empire, who was assassinated in June 1913. It is said that the prince was manipulated by the Young Turks until they brought the empire to its eventual demise.

Prince Halim’s star began to dim when Turkey signed its secret treaty with Germany in 1914, thereby aligning itself against the British during the First World War. Three months later, Britain, France and Russia declared war on Germany, and Egypt officially became a British Protectorate.

In Cairo, Prince Halim’s assets were confiscated, and following Turkey’s defeat, he was arrested and deported to Malta. An Armenian terrorist ultimately assassinated him in Rome on December 6, 1921. The prince never had a chance to live in his Cairene palace.

Galila El-Qadi, an architect with the Institute of Research for Development (IRD), recounts that the palace was sold in 1918 to Monsieur Carlsioni, who rented it to the Ministry of National Education. The palace transformed into a school, Al-Nasra, to be sold once more in the 1940s to the Société Chaoul Médiano, at which point it became El-Nasriya School.

Many Egyptian luminaries received their primary education on these regal premises; among them were Mustafa and Ali Amin, founders of the daily Al-Akhbar; Ibrahim Badran, former minister of health; and Ismail Serageldin, the present director of the Bibliotheca Alexandrina — to name but a few.

A few years after the school opened its doors, the palace’s gardens were sold to make room for a new apartment building in front of Antikhana Street. The reputation of the school did not suffer from this amputation, however, and it remained one of the two leading educational establishments (the other being Al-Saidiya School) for the sons of the Egyptian elite.

The palace only closed its doors in 2004, when El-Fath Company for Reconstruction & Development bought the premises — just two months before it was placed on the list of protected historical monuments.

As a part of this important list, El-Qadi suggests, the palace lends itself perfectly to the transformation into “the historical museum of the city of Cairo.” Furthermore, it is exceptionally qualified architecturally for this purpose, endowed as it is with vast rooms, high ceilings, a majestic staircase and a splendid bay window. The ceilings are beautifully painted and the façade richly decorated. The palace is still surrounded by a garden — albeit one much smaller than the original.

The Supreme Council of Antiquities is the body empowered to make decisions regarding the restoration and management of the monuments entrusted to its care, as well as collaborations with technical institutions and international organizations. The SCA assigned the task of presenting the pre-project study for the transformation of the palace into a museum to a consortium including an Egyptian and a French consultant firm — Mirmar and Bonnamy, respectively — which are now designated collectively by the name “Mirmar Bonnamy.” They work in association with the Institute for Research and Development (IRD).

The European Commission and the IRD have financed this preliminary stage. Since in the long term, the entire project will generate expenditures of both time and money, the IRD has taken the initiative to mobilize Egyptian civil society as well as international organizations.

The IRD plans to target the former pupils of Al-Nasriya School who today occupy key posts in public and private sectors alike; among whom are renowned physicians and engineers, famous actors and successful business leaders. It is hoped that they will form the Association of the Friends of Said Halim’s Palace and contribute to a fundraising campaign in support of the project.

A second target will be society itself, which will be the focus of a campaign for donations to the cause. An additional plan is the organization of concerts and exhibitions in the palace and its gardens, with the help of interested professionals and businessmen.

Beyond this particular museum, the IRD hopes to introduce a new culture in Egypt, encouraging the full participation of civil society in the preservation and restoration of our heritage. Quite rightly, El-Qadi comments that without the full commitment of Egyptian society, the treasures of our past might forever be lost.  et