The early 20th century in the Arab world was marked by the rise of economic leaders who, without political ambitions or personal gain, took it upon themselves to strengthen their nations’ economies, break free from Western dependency, and establish a real presence in global competition.

Figures like al-Sabounji in Mosul, Nuri Fattah in Baghdad, and Shuman in Palestine and Jordan all pursued similar economic and nationalistic goals. Around the same time, Talaat Harb—‘the father of the Egyptian economy’—emerged with his vision for Banque Misr and the major national projects that accompanied it, both in scale and impact.

Harb was not an economist trained at an elite European university. Instead, he studied at a traditional kuttab school, memorised the Quran, and later attended the Khedivial School in Cairo. He then entered the School of Law, where he learned French and mastered it alongside his legal studies. After graduating, he turned to commerce, opening a grocery and dairy shop in the Abbasiyya district, gaining firsthand experience in trade. By 1910, he and a group of merchants founded what he called at the time the Financial Cooperation Company.

Over the next decade, Harb gained extensive economic experience, supported by a natural talent for business and a deep, strategically driven sense of nationalism—one that had no interest in political influence. He decided to establish Banque Misr, built by Egyptians for Egyptians, and alongside it, a number of companies specialising in financing industrial ventures. His ultimate goal was to free the Egyptian economy from British and Jewish control.

Talaat Harb is widely regarded as the pioneer of Egypt’s modern economic revival. Though his political involvement never extended beyond his national aspirations, he worked alongside leaders of the National Party, such as Mustafa Kamel and Mohamed Farid. He also sought to strengthen Egypt’s ties with the Arab world, founding financial institutions that reflected this vision. By the late 1930s, his home had become an intellectual and cultural salon, attracting leading Arab figures of the time.

It seems that Harb’s nationalist convictions alone were enough to propel Egypt’s economy forward, despite the fact that he was not considered a master economist. Some might argue that his era was fundamentally different from ours, governed by different calculations and realities, shaped by institutional rule. This is, of course, true. But institutions existed in his time as well—Egypt was not a tribal society ruled by a single absolute leader. In fact, Harb faced an even greater challenge: he had to navigate a system of institutions that were largely hostile to his vision, one that did not align with the interests of Western powers, which dominated Egypt’s economic decisions at the time.

Others may claim that today’s economic policies require specialists who did not start their careers as grocers, as Harb did, but instead hold elite academic credentials to lead the country’s economic revival. Yet, time and again, economic science has revealed its own shortcomings. Crisis after crisis exposes its inability to grasp reality, afflicted by a chronic blindness that prevents it from anticipating the future. Economics, as a discipline, has done little more than inflate the egos of its practitioners, who indulge in abstract theories detached from real-world conditions—most of which have failed to explain even the simplest human behaviours.

The reality is that we are in dire need of a new economic leader, someone capable of revitalising a land rich in resources and intellect. This leader must be more than just an academic genius reduced to a mere bureaucrat, heading a ministry that ultimately serves as a political tool for regimes with entirely different priorities. Until such a leader emerges, all we can do is mourn the loss of the father of Egypt’s economy—at a time when personal profit reigns supreme.

This article is originally published by AlBorsa in Arabic and later AI-translated by South Push.