Tall Armenian Tale

 

The Other Side of the Falsified Genocide

 

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 TURKEY IN TRAVAIL

The Birth of a New Nation

1925

By

HAROLD ARMSTRONG

(Lately Assistant and Acting Military Attache to the High Commissioner, Constantinople ; Special Service Officer in War Office and on Head-quarter Staff of Allied Army of Occupation, and Supervisor of Turkish Gendarmerie)

 

 

This is a remarkable book. As the author admits, it's not meant to be history... but as an honest accounting of personal observations from having gotten up close and personal with the Turks, there is great historical value to be derived.

Harold Armstrong appears to suffer from an identity crisis. As an official representative for His Majesty's Government, he loyally spouts the propaganda that perhaps he convinced himself was the reality, thanks to its endless propagation. He talks about how the Armenians were marked for extermination, for example, in full support of the Bryce and Toynbee directed Wellington House concoctions. Yet everything he puts on the table from his personal observations contradicts the possibility.

To demonstrate how off he is when he tries to explain the "official" history, he relies on "Pan-Turanism" as the motive for extermination. "The Armenians ... were a bar to the realization of the Pan-Turanian policy, and so with ruthless cruelty they were wiped away," he writes. It's a convenient theory, but unsupported by any evidence. There were many other ethnic groups in the Ottoman Empire that were just as much a bar to "Turkification," yet they were left alone... and, as David Fromkin explained, the fact that individuals in government have dreams do not necessarily translate into actual government policy.

Another poor historical example is his claim that "Mustapha Kemal and the Bolsheviks formed an alliance and portioned out Armenia between them." We know from the testimony of Armenia's first prime minister that Russia and Turkey were not at all in such cahoots. (And, of course, in the war between Turkey and Armenia in 1920, Turkey took back only what had been Turkish land for centuries, and left the real "Armenia" alone.) In fact, when Russia threatened, Armenia turned to Turkey for help. So Armstrong can't help but be partial to Armenia, loyal to the official line of his government. He writes, as another example, "In 1878 the Treaty of Berlin decided to protect the Armenians, and was the direct cause of their massacre in 1896." No mention of the Armenian terror groups that came into being largely after 1878, and the massacres they committed that forced the Turks' hand. As Kamuran Gurun astutely wrote, "At the very least it would be fair ... to remember how many people lost their lives in rebellions or disorders in their own or other countries, and think how much right they have to use the term massacre."

While Armstrong's recanting of propagandistic "history" is not to be taken seriously, what he has eyewitnessed is another matter. As a POW, the worst of the evidence he provides for the "genocide" boils down to (1) wells filled with bodies, without knowledge of who the killers were or, for that matter, whose bodies were in the wells, (2) bodies by the roadside of Armenians unable to keep up in the marches... certainly a fact, but a jump to conclude the purpose was intentional murder, and (3) Armenian women being sold by gendarmes in bazaars. [He wasn't close to a bazaar as a POW to actually witness the last one.]

In the whole book, however, he refers to the Armenians and Greeks with disdain, not unlike practically all Western travellers who weren't out of their minds with anti-Turkish bigotry, and there isn't one Turk who treats him unfairly.

There is one fellow for whom he displays much wrath, Mazlum Bey (the commander of his POW camp), for having treated British POWs badly and sometimes criminally (yet, when Armstrong decides to put Mazlum in his place, Mazlum hardly goes for Armstrong's throat. Armstrong even remains unpunished after his abortive escape attempts.) Armstrong makes sure to tell the reader Mazlum has Arabic stock.  The author isn't very keen on the Arabs, after having witnessed their bad behavior too many times.

If he eyewitnesses massacres, the massacres are not perpetrated by the Turks. In example after example, he describes how fairly, courteously and honestly the "lovable" Turks have treated him. Armstrong describes the Turks as kind and slow to be roused into anger. As a rule, the characteristic he found in the Turks was honor; one that was sorely missing in the Ottoman Christians.

He distinguishes the cruelty factor at one point as follows: "As always, the actions of the Turkish brigands were mild in comparison with the brutalities, murders and crimes of the Greeks." He gets an idea of the Orthodox mentality by recounting a conversation between the High Commissioner and M. Canelopoulos, when the latter hoped that his fellow Greeks would be murdered because he needed "a raison d’etre for advancing.” Substitute "Armenian" for "Greek," and one gets the exact same M.O.; before the war, the Armenian revolutionists would massacre Turks in hopes of getting their fellow Armenians massacred, providing the "raison d’etre" for the Europeans to step in.

This is why it seemed to me Harold Armstrong was in "denial." He dutifully preserved his nation's propagandistic line without any evidence... but the evidence he does supply directly contradicts how a people so fair and good could evilly and systematically commit the worst crime against humanity.

 

 


 INTRO p v

Poets and philosophers have thought and sung of the mutability of human affairs. In all the coloured Romance of History there is hardly a story so illustrative of this mutability, so fantastic, so dramatic, as that of Turkey during the last (8) years. The Fates allowed me to follow that story closely step by step and often in intimate relations with its chief actors and its chief events.

I have written herein no chronological and exhaustive history. It is an account of personal adventure jotted down in odd times and often about odd events. But through them all runs the thread of History on which they form a strange and quaintly assorted chaplet.

(In Dec. 3 1915, Armstrong was a "defence officer" at  Kut-al-Amarah, where he relates his capture.)

 

pp. 14-15

I stepped out of the palm-groves to look and there over the open, where for many months no one had dared to walk, came small bodies of men. They were the Turks.

I was disappointed. They were dirty, unshaved, ill-dressed, ragged rapscallions of men. I was piqued that we should have surrendered to so tatterdemalion a crew. I had not yet realized that it is only the British soldier who loses his military efficiency when he is dirty.

They came in methodically, taking up posts from where they commanded all entrances and exits. The Arabs were shouting with delight, leaping and salaaming and offering them food. They had not starved, these Arabs, by the look of them, and they were offering fresh mutton and white bread free as gifts of peace. The Turks were but little impressed. When they got in the way they drove them on one side. They had had many proofs of their loyalty before. I could have thanked a mounted officer who kicked full in the mouth an Arab who tried to kiss his boot. It was ever so with these Arabs; they sung songs to and cringed before the victors and mutilated the wounded of the defeated.

I fell in my men and moved off to our rendezvous. Then I realized that we were prisoners, for we were roughly halted by dirty fellows and searched and disarmed. At every few yards we had to stop and beg leave to advance from apathetic and supercilious young officers. My whole spirit revolted, for I had never learnt to cringe.

We concentrated in the palm-groves by the riverbank. There we spent a night of terror. For the first time for many years I was defenceless and unarmed. We had eaten no food at all that day, and the heart sinks when the belly is empty. A low thick fog lay over everything, and out of it now and again loomed groups of men on horses, uncanny and terrible, because they were unknown and spoke in a strange tongue. We set sentries with sticks, who would have been useless in real danger, but it seemed better to be wakened than to be murdered in our sleep.

At last that long night came to an end, and in the dawn I dropped asleep, to be wakened by the sound of a scuffle. A short sturdy Turk was endeavouring to tear his water-bottle away from a huge Sikh. The sepoy looked to me for protection. Suddenly I realized that I was helpless; and I was ashamed. A little way off sat a Turkish officer on the side of a water-wheel. I ran to him and called his attention in French, which by the grace of God he more or less understood. He called to his Turk to leave the water-bottle alone. He strode up to the man and beat him on the face. But the fellow obstinately carried on. The officer’s hand flew to his belt, but his revolver was not there. Seeing a pickaxe lying near he caught it up and drove the point through the man.

Towards late afternoon we filed out of Kut. The Turks had told us that if we got to Shamran, some eight miles away, we should find food. The Turkish commander Khalil Pasha and his Staff, with the German officers on it, watched us march out in fours.

19

The Turks tried, almost pathetically, to treat us well. They allowed us to transport great bundles of out kit as far as here. But their standards of life and their ways and ours were different, and they soon gave up the attempt.

20

Our energy and courage were coming and with them the spirit of lawlessness, which is a prisoner’s privilege — the fierce resentment against all and every order. The Turks had given up the make-believe of treating us well. We had to conform to the conditions of the country. When ordered to set out on the march, we obstinately refused. We demanded to be allowed to transport all our kit, and I would have taken a regiment of horses to do this. We argued and resisted and refused to move until... the Turkish commandant, in despair, brought us more pack animals and then we agreed to move off.   

"Underfed, misused, paid but little and that rarely, ragged and dirty, these Turkish troops were as wretched in their liberty as we were in our captivity."

p. 23

Sometimes we passed battalions of Turkish troops marching down to Bagdad... some 300 miles away... There the Arabs watched, and when occasion served, they killed and looted them, so that we passed many Turkish soldiers on the route. They lay by the roadside with their throats cut, left to rot like carrion for all their officers or Government cared; while far away in Anatolia the women waited eagerly, but in vain, for news of their men. Underfed, misused, paid but little and that rarely, ragged and dirty, these Turkish troops were as wretched in their liberty as we were in our captivity.

26

The Turks had massacred the Armenians

ruined villages where the wells were full of bodies

Turkish gendarmes ... selling Armenian women for a few shillings in the bazaars of Aleppo and Mosul 

28

"marched slowly to death"

I heard the sound of women and children and in the next field were a crowd of Armenians and with them white-bearded priests. I saw them marched away...under the escort of armed gendarmes. They were being marched to death, and the bodies I had seen by the roadside in the Amanus mountains were those of them who could not keep up.

 

34

They were simple, sturdy folk, these Turkish peasants. They made no pretence of wishing to fight in this war. I saw none of the wild enthusiasms of other countries {except for young and excited recruits}... the country and the people were tired of the everlasting wars, and ever and again they cursed Enver Pasha and his German crew.

35

They were a kindly, hospitable people, slowly roused and then capable of terrible anger and tremendous energy. They were the last of the aristocrats, with their vices and their virtues. They ruled as by Divine Right, as part of a caste, and without political theories. They were not vicious or cruel, but they did not understand pain in others. They had a profound contempt for the rest of mankind, and inherent laziness covered by great courtesy. Inefficient to distraction, they were eminently lovable. Their sense of humour was simple. Sleeping round the hot embers of the fire I was night after night awaked by the hideous snores of a carter, who had a face like a frog and slept with his mouth wide open. At last in desperation I begged some one to wake up Balik Pasha, or the “Fish” Pasha, and shut his fly-trap of a mouth. The name stuck. For a week the word “ Balik” roused a roar of laughter. Some one on the march would call for “ Balik Pasha with the fly-trap mouth,” and from end to end of the caravan, drivers and guards and passengers in the carts would shout with laughter and call one to another. People used to wake the little fellow at all times to tell him his nickname and then roar with applause, in which he would join. They would, as is their custom, get up at one or two in the morning, kick the fire into life and light cigarettes, and then one would call “ Balik Pasha
and the whole room would rock with laughter till they lay down to sleep again. Long afterwards a general came to inspect the troops in the area. He heard men talk of “ Balik Pasha,” and incautiously asked who he was. So they brought the little carter before the general...

 

38

Against us, their enemies, I found no animosities. Even the German nurses, though full of fierce patriotism, did all they could for us. The Turkish officers were courteous and polite. They showed no enthusiasm for the war. They avoided all controversial subjects. When we happened to talk of the war, they told me glowing accounts of the success of the British troops. It was a curious trait of the Turks to over-represent the success of the enemy.

 

49

(Relates his escape attempts; he gets caught, but faces no punishment.)

 

THE PRISON CAMP IN ANATOLIA

51

(changes prisons, shown a site where a British submarine dived under mines of the Dardanelles, went to centre of country and opened fire on a train.)

The Turks congratulated me on the courage of the commander. They looked on it as a fine feat and one to be made much of. I could not help thinking that a German or Englishman would have taken a few different  view if it had been in his country.

 

52

The Germans treated the Turks with high contempt, and more than one told me how glad he was to meet another white man in this “native” country.

Everything that went wrong was put down to the Germans... if food was short, it had been shipped to Berlin to feed Germans.

 

It appeared that hopeless inefficiency and callousness of human life was the main causes, while deliberate calculated cruelty was rare. The Turks had treated our worn and starved and diseased soldiers as they treated their own men, and both had died like flies.


 

p. 56

CHAPTER VII

 The Fall of the Ottoman Empire : Release, 1918

As is ever the way with the Turks, they now swung to the other extreme, and our treatment became as liberal as it had before been stringent. I was made staff-officer of the camp. Mazlum Bey was put under arrest with all his officers. To complete the picture, the sergeant of the guard, having no officer to whom to apply, as they were all in prison, and being quite bewildered, came to me for his day’s orders. These I gave to him written out laboriously in my crude Turkish. Mazlum was tried for his foulness, and on the court I was the prosecutor and interpreter. Such was the humour of the situation.

We were given more liberty. At times we got opportunities to talk to some of our men imprisoned in another part of the town. We learnt the details of their march up and how all across the Mesopotamian plains and in the unorganized camps both British and Indians had died by the thousand. It appeared that hopeless inefficiency and callousness of human life was the main causes, while deliberate calculated cruelty was rare. The Turks had treated our worn and starved and diseased soldiers as they treated their own men, and both had died like flies. Now in a sort of death-bed repentance at this eleventh hour the Ottoman Government was treating them with great kindness and giving them much liberty. But of the thousands that set out from Kut only a few hundred remained. These were probably better treated than any prisoners have been treated before, except the Russians in Japan. They ran their own affairs, attempted escapes without punishment, and worked as they willed.

As to the officers, as a whole they were pretty well treated, but the life of a prisoner-of-war must always be a dreary hardship.
The iron chain round us began to relax and, as we gained more liberty, our spirits rose. There were many attempts at escape. We worked night and day in secret preparing and studying any maps we could get, and copying and enlarging passes and plans sent to us from England in split post-cards or cunningly hidden in books. But though it was easy to get out of camp, the country beyond was wild and barren and made a perfect prison wall. It was full of fierce men. It was as if one tried to escape from Kabul through the wild Afghan tribes over the mountains into India.
Everywhere there were signs of the Ottoman Empire breaking up. In the town, into which we were now allowed to go under guard, the people talked with open discontent. The hills were full of deserters and brigands. Food was short and the prices crept up till only the rich could buy sugar and tea and the necessaries of life. Our guards had grown slack. I could feel the break...

64

... As time passed, in every direction and in unexpected places, vast blind forces released by the war became apparent and menacing. To meet them there was little to offer. The armies were contracting with demobilization. The energy and idealism was dying away and left only a tired people.

Nowhere had the victory been so crushing as in Turkey. She lay battered down, ruined and broken. Any terms of peace could have been imposed without resistance. Far away in Anatolia the ninth Caucasus army alone remained undefeated, but it was submissive and overawed. There were Allied garrisons all across Turkey. She lay inert, patiently waiting her fate. I found the English people against the Turks. Here and there a few experts and a few cranks spoke on their behalf, but the mass of the people was hostile. The churches remembered the massacres of Christians. The Free Churches were clamouring for the return of Constantinople and St. Sophia and the ejection of the Turk from Europe. The war hatred was strong in those untouched by religion. It was agreed that an end was to be made of Turkey, and Mr. Lloyd George was the spokesman of that idea.

But in all matters the decision rested with the Conference in Paris, and there so vast and complex and innumerable were the problems to be settled that Turkey was neglected for the time being. It was felt that she was but the rubbish and bits of the Ottoman Empire that had finally collapsed, and that a sweeping up of those could wait until more urgent problems nearer home were settled. In that delay lay danger, and one by one many of the troubles settled themselves. The first blow came when the Italians on the 29th of March 1919 landed in south-eastern Anatolia, and, despite the protests of the other Allies, began rapidly to take over the country. They had a definite clear-cut policy. They intended to replace Austria in the Near East. They took over the Austrian banks and the Austrian ships. They had been promised the port of Smyrna at the Conference of St. Jean de Maurienne in 1915 and they set out to get it. They were for annexation. Each year, some hundreds of thousands of emigrants leave Italy for other countries. The soil and climate of Anatolia are excellent, and the Italian Government hoped to raise there a stout peasant population and make Italy a world power and an empire.

Already there was friction between France and England, for the former thought that she was being kept out of Cilicia, despite all promises and the terms of the Sykes-Picot agreement, and that steps were being taken to oust her from Constantinople.

It was still possible by immediate action to settle the Near East, but the situation, if delayed, was potentially dangerous.

 

 


pp.
78-79

The main work at the Embassy was to avoid being definitely involved with any of the innumerable suitors who sought our help.

Thus in inaction time passed, while the problems at hand remained unsolved, while new complications appeared and definite dangers began to raise their heads. The golden opportunity to make a sound adjustment had passed.

I found the city of Constantinople little changed since 1916, except that the Allies had replaced the Germans and that the population had without effort transferred its allegiance from the one to the other. I looked in at the old prison. Jemal Bey was gone, but the officials and sentries were as courteous as before. Mazlum Bey was shut away somewhere, but I dared not see him, for I must have struck him. Even here in the centre, there was decay. The War Office door hung on a broken hinge, and the great courtyard was rank with weeds, as if no troops had ever drilled on it.

As I wandered about the city I searched for the stout old Turk I had learned to know in Anatolia. He was not there. Gradually I realized that in Constantinople there were no Turks, for they were all Levantines, and that herein lay the basic and fundamental problem of Turkey. Away in Anatolia were 7,000,000 ignorant Turkish peasants. They were hardy, honest and steady, but should anyone of them be taken and educated, he instinctively absorbed that which was superficial and he became a Levantine.
Though of stout material, the Turkish peasant cannot be built on, and thus his ruling class is always Levantine.

The one hope of the Turk lies in developing his own type of civilization, of educating his people on those lines, and ruling his people in this manner, and not by copying or mimicking the civilization of Europe as he has done hitherto. The Turks are Eastern. Anatolia and Constantinople are Eastern, and there is a great danger of treating them as if they were Western, because their people have white skins and some are Christians. The gulf between us and the Chinese and the Brahmin is no greater than that between us and the populations of Turkey.

Constantinople is the capital of Levantinia, and its citizens the Levantines are the evil results of the mating of the East and the West. East and West mate badly. They do not absorb each other satisfactorily. The West has superimposed itself on the East, and there remain but two roads to be taken. Either the East must accept the civilization of the West and the whole East become Levantine, or it must refuse it absolutely and revolt against it. But the moment the East refuses the guidance of the West, I found that the East respected not the spirit but the material results of Western civilization — its motor-cars, its luxuries, and, above all, the power and comfort that it gives.

The great city of Constantinople is itself a festering sore. There are in it no great ideals, no inspiration. It is a city of mean men living in mean streets. It is a city of intrigue, of backbiting, of scandal, of cunning, cowardly, treacherous men and dishonest women living in squalid houses. There is vast intrigue in little matters. There is no big idea, no character, no drive, no...

From Smyrna the Greeks pushed out, massacring, burning, pillaging and raping as they went, in the ordinary manner of the Balkan peoples at war. Before them the Turks fled, till the country-side was full, of refugees.

 

pp. 82-95

(GREEK CRUSADE INTO ANATOLIA)

In the hard years of the war secret treaties had been made to win allies. Italy had been promised great sections of Anatolia. Greece had been promised Western Thrace. Russia had been promised Constantinople. Much of the Middle East had been portioned out between England and France by the Sykes-Picot agreement. Promises had been made to the Arabs and the Christian minorities. By the time that peace arrived the objects of the war had changed. America, the new ally, had no part or lot in all these secret agreements that held her allies. But they were always in the background. They were confused by local and national hatreds and ambitions. They were complicated by the fact that many of them were contradictory, and by the declaration that “ self-determination “ was to decide the future.

The Italians had failed to get any support for their policy of annexation of South-Western Anatolia. The French and British would not stand by the promises they had made to the Italians at St. Jean de Maurienne in 1917, but they could not deny that they had made them. Feeling that facts were better than arguments, the Italians landed and set to work. Very rapidly, with troops and schools and traders, they had established themselves in the south of Anatolia and were rapidly nearing Smyrna. The Greek delegation in Paris strove for its claims in Anatolia, and especially for Smyrna. The French and British heard them with considerable sympathy. The American advisers refused to agree. They saw that Anatolia as a whole needed Smyrna as its window and door on to the world. Special committees could come to no agreement, and the Italians and the Greeks were at every point at variance.

Suddenly events took a dramatic turn. Signor Orlando and President Wilson quarrelled in Paris over Fiume. The former, with all the Italians, left the Conference. There was always in Paris a strong pro-Hellenic party, which now played its cards skilfully.
M. Venizelos presented a sheaf of telegrams to show that the Turks were massacring in the Smyrna area, which was untrue. His subordinates produced excellent, but incorrect, maps to show the preponderance of the Greek population in and round Smyrna. The Great Three did not wish to see the Italians in possession, and they thought it an excellent method of calling Signor Orlando back to heel. He came, but too late, for already the order had been deliberately given by Mr. Wilson without reference to his advisers, and by Mr. Lloyd George and M. Clemenceau; and the Greeks were sent to Smyrna, not as a punishment to the Turks, but as a counterpoise to the Italians.

From this small spark arose a fierce conflagration. The Greeks came under the escort of Allied ships, and their occupation was announced to the Governor of Smyrna as that of the Allies. They began to massacre as soon as they landed. The officers and men of the British battleship moored close to the quay were ordered to remain inactive, while, within a few yards of their stern, Greek troops committed murder and foul brutalities. It is said that so difficult was it to prevent the British sailors from interfering that they were all ordered below decks.

From Smyrna the Greeks pushed out, massacring, burning, pillaging and raping as they went, in the ordinary manner of the Balkan peoples at war. Before them the Turks fled, till the country-side was full, of refugees. Having extended beyond the line allowed to them, but having given themselves sufficient room to protect Smyrna, the Greeks sat down to consolidate.
Throughout Turkey awoke a new spirit, the spirit of a Turkish Nation. Once before the Turks had tried to turn their vast heterogeneous empire into a nation. In 1908 the Young Turks had overthrown the tyranny of Abdul Hamid and proclaimed a constitution with equal rights for all. They had set to work to turkify the Empire. The result had been misfortune. The Great Powers had at once reached out greedy hands for spoils. Austria had seized Bosnia and Herzegovina. Aided by Russia, Bulgaria had declared itself independent. The Italians had seized Tripoli and Bengazi. England and France had riveted tighter their economic chains.

The Ottoman Christians refused to become Turks, and in a fury at their disloyalty the Young Turks resorted to the policy of their predecessor, and by fierce massacre endeavoured to cut out of their body politic the cancer that ate their flesh. Their enemies saw their weakness, and then came the Balkan wars, and then finally the Great World War that had brought destruction and ruin. But the idea of a Nation had remained with them, of one loyalty, of one religion, of one blood, and of one tongue. They had been stripped of the vast territories that they held by force alone. They had ceased to be ambitious to become a power in Europe, and their hopes were centred in Asia. Pared and pruned till little superfluous growth remained, the trunk of the Ottoman Empire appeared dead. The sap moved but little.

Now at the threat of final destruction the Turks woke from the dull apathy of defeat. They were to be wiped out. It was proposed to make a great Armenia behind them and perhaps a Greek Pontus State on one flank. There was the red danger of Smyrna in front of them, and the Great Powers were planning to control what was left. As had happened before in their history, in the hour of real disaster, the call went out and slowly the Turks roused themselves. A fierce vitality returned and they set about to save themselves from complete annihilation.

There were dull muttered threats at first. The 9th Caucasian Army stopped disarming. At Erzerum, at Konia and before Smyrna organized bodies came into existence. The refugees were armed. The hills became full of irregular bands that attacked the Greek troops. The peasants were enrolled. The Christians had already surrendered their arms at the orders of the Allies, but the Turks found arms in quantities and at once. The disarmament of the Turkish forces had been neglected by the Allied commanders. The ideas on the subject were grotesque. One staff officer of high rank was heard to say that it was unfair to disarm the Turks without disarming the Greeks as well, and one officer who commanded a detachment, when ordered to retire from Anatolia, brought with him a receipt signed by a Turkish general for the stores and ammunition that he had handed over in considerable quantities.

In Constantinople the renowned sailor, Raouf Bey, both
officially and unofficially organized protest and resistance. Meetings were addressed by priests and fanatics; and that at the Municipal buildings in Stambul on the 20th of May was opened by a fierce appeal from a Turkish woman, one Halide Edeb Hanum, and was concluded with a few words of encouragement from French officers who were on the platform.

Far away in the wilds of Anatolia some form of organization began to show itself almost at once, and one man, Mustapha Kemal, stood out and dominated the situation. He was a capable staff officer of great energy, and a hard, calculating man. He had shown his capacity on many fronts. He had organized the guerrilla warfare against the Italians in Tripoli. He had commanded the gendarmery divisions in Gallipoli and held up the Australian advance and had saved the Turks from defeat. In Syria he had been given a poor handful of men, and with these he had gamely tried to withstand Allenby and to organize a new front at Aleppo. After Enver and his colleagues had fled, Mustapha Kemal had remained, and his influence among the troops and the people was great. He had been appointed as Inspector-General of the northern section of Anatolia, and there he went in March 1919. He left Constantinople determined to organize some show of resistance. He found little response among the tired people, who prayed only for peace and for time to plough their fields. But the landing of the Greeks, the threat of final destruction, and the wave of hatred that ran through the country gave him his chance. He seized it. Help and encouragement came from Constantinople and from every side. On the old framework of the Ottoman army he grafted the hastily raised irregulars, and as it grew the force was directed towards the Greeks.

As yet the Turks had worked with caution. They showed their defiance in sullen disobedience to the Allied Control officers. The efforts at resistance were local and scattered and mainly effective in the danger zones close to the Greeks, where the refugees organized gladly. The leaders of the disaffection had crept away back into the eastern and inaccessible parts of Anatolia, to organize at Siwas and Erzerum. They expected that at any minute the Allies would send troops and crush them down.

If the movement was to be dealt with some immediate action was needed. The British High Commissioner wired repeatedly for permission to act. The Grand Vizier, who believed that the strict carrying out of the Armistice was the one hope of Turkey, became apprehensive and asked leave to deal with the danger. But the Allied Governments were feeling the anti-war reaction. They were being bombarded with demands for demobilization and retrenchment. They dared not involve themselves in further commitments. They gave orders that no steps were to be taken in the matter, which to them appeared to be one between the Sultan and his subjects. They refused to allow the Sultan enough troops or a free hand to deal with the position. They made light of the danger of the situation, and then turned to other problems.

Hassan the bash chavoush and his orderly

Hassan the bash chavoush and his orderly

Very soon the Turks began to realize that the Allies would not, or could not, take steps against them, and at the end of June they came out more boldly into the open. Irregular troops with a backing of regulars continually harried the Greeks, and sometimes there were fierce engagements. By July a clear-cut organization, grouped round Mustapha Kemal at Erzerum, had come into existence and the hitherto scattered and separate centres of revolt were co-ordinated within it. It was directed by capable brains. It was assisted by great enthusiasm and great hatred. The army grew, and it met with no opposition. The organization and the military forces now began to move westwards, leaving only sufficient troops to guard against aggression from Armenia. They came to the railway at Angora in December 1919, and, making the new head-quarters there, they moved down the railway and took over the junction of Eski-Shehir and the line to Konia. The British had orders to avoid any complications and they retired as the Turks advanced, so that by April 1920 the whole of Anatolia, except the area round Smyrna held by the Greeks, was in the hands of the “Nationalists,” as the Turks under Mustapha Kemal were now called. Behind a screen of irregulars they organized, collected money and formed an administration.

As Mustapha Kemal became a power the government in Constantinople lost in importance. All Turks were united in protest at the landing of the Greeks. But whereas the Sultan and Damad Ferid, the Grand Vizier, believed that the salvation of Turkey lay in obedience to the terms of the Armistice and so winning the confidence and good-will of the Allies, Mustapha Kemal believed not at all in the Allies. He saw that they had decided to destroy Turkey. He believed that the Turks could only save themselves by their own strong right arms. He had already succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. The Allies had done nothing against him. The Greeks were tied to their area. Their atrocities had filled him and his supporters with wild rage, for they despised these Greeks as their late subjects. They hated the Allies but little less for sending them. When ordered to return to Constantinople Mustapha Kemal had refused. Damad Ferid was a fierce old man and he dismissed Mustapha Kemal from the army. Personal hatred and pique became an element in the quarrel. A breach opened between the government in Constantinople and the administration in Angora. Then Damad Ferid fell from power and the Nationalists gained control of the Constantinople cabinet. In turn they were ejected, and the Sultan and Damad Ferid Pasha and their supporters, appealing in vain to the Allies for help, set out to crush the “ rebels “ in Anatolia. They employed Circassians to fight them, under a certain Ahmed Anzavour. The breach was complete, and henceforth Angora went its own way from step to step until it proclaimed itself an independent government, while the Constantinople government, tied hand and foot by the Allies, sank to the position of the borough council of Stambul, and the Allied control became valueless.

Finally, feeling their strength and showing the fortitude and courage that more than once in their history saved them from destruction, the Turkish Nationalists had on the 28th of January 1920 published their National Pact. They proclaimed the objects for which they fought and swore that even to annihilation they would strive till they possessed Anatolia, Constantinople and Eastern Thrace, free of foreign interference. It was the declaration of the death of the Ottoman Empire, and of the existence of the Turkish Nation. The birth and rapid growth of this had been ignored by the Allies. Now it stood out aggressively, asserting its claims and its power to enforce them.

The success of the Turkish Nationalists, due as it was to the sudden and unexpected vitality that they had shown, was aided by a complicated mass of other circumstances.

The Greeks had hardly landed before they encountered Italian opposition. As the Greeks pushed out, the Italians continued to advance, until they met as rivals. At one point, on the 2nd of June 1919, their troops opened fire on each other at the village of Cherkes Keuy, and only with great tact was an open breach between Rome and Athens avoided. The Italians, piqued and disappointed, encouraged the spirit of Turkish revolt. Too late they realized that they fanned a fire that would singe their own beards. Before the rising conflagration, which they had helped to light, they retired. There were serious domestic troubles in Italy. The people demanded demobilization and threatened revolution. Rather than be involved in fighting the Italian Government withdrew, and gave up the territory on which they had set their hearts. But as they went they sold their arms and equipment to the Turk, and for many months they were his main source of supply for war material.

Aided thus in the south, the Turks found other helpers in the north. As the Bolsheviks slowly advanced, steadily pushing the armies of counter-revolution under Denikin before them, the British troops retired out of the Caspian and across the Caucasus. Their retreat encouraged the Turks, who received from Moscow welcome messages and more welcome money. The Allies were their common enemies.

The Turkish Nationalists directed their energies primarily against the Greeks, but the Greeks were the agents of the Peace Conference, and rapidly the hostility of the Turks was directed against the Allies. Until it had forced itself upon their attention, the Nationalist movement was viewed with little interest and no hostility by the Supreme Council, despite the constant telegrams of warning from the High Commissioner and the admonitions of the General Officer Commanding-in Chief.

When late in 1919 the position was recognized, the jealousies between the Allies prevented any effective action. The Italians were already at loggerheads with the Greeks and helping the Turks. Compromise between the many conflicting ambitions was the only hope of common action. The British were often stubborn and their subordinates were sometimes unwise, but as a whole they were prepared to sacrifice much to maintain the Entente. From the first days of the Armistice, however, the French were suspicious. They believed that they were to be cheated of the good things of victory. There was no common enemy in the Near East, and there remained only the debris of dead systems, out of which much of value might be extracted. They found the British already in possession. They were determined not to be jockeyed out. For two centuries or more the British and the French had been rivals. In the face of a common foe, for a brief period, they had combined to crush the upstart Germany, and then in 1918 they took up again their ancient quarrel where they had laid it down in 1913. In the Near East the Great War, which was to have been an ending, became no more than a brief interlude in the long struggle between the rivals for the hegemony of Turkey.

Within a week of the signing of the Armistice the French were issuing nationalization papers to enemy subjects who possessed business or property interests in Turkey, and so endeavoured to annex the trade. Monsieur de France, the High Commissioner, and Franchet d’Esperey, the Allied General Officer Commanding-in-Chief, were openly anti-British. They assisted the enemy. Thus the Allied High Commissioners refused passports to the family of Enver Pasha. The French supplied them. The High Commissioners ordered the arrest of Djavid the Salonika Jew, the Minister of Finance to the Committee of Union and Progress. The French smuggled him into France. In May 1919, French officers spoke at public meetings against the Greek landing in Smyrna and encouraged Turkish resistance. As early as June 1919, M. Pichon was in private correspondence with the Prince Heritier, and had promised him assistance to gain Turkish aspirations. The Moniteur, the Stambul and other papers were subsidized with French money to publish anti-British articles. Major Labonne, the French representative at Afion-Kara-Hissar, Colonel Mongin at Angora, and General Bathélémy, the French Military Attaché in Constantinople, were openly with the Turks.

For a short while the French used the Greeks. Even as late as June 1920 they advised them to advance, so as to get the Turks off the railway. Then they threw them over. As it became evident that the English had taken the Greeks under their protection, so, to neutralize this, the French became Turkophile, and in October 1921 M. Franklin Bouillon on behalf of the French Government made a secret treaty at Angora. That treaty was dishonourable not so much in its terms as in the secrecy with which it was made. The French supplied the Turks with information as to the Greek forces and our own. The culmination was the great betrayal at Chanak, when on the 22nd of September 1922 they withdrew and left the British alone to face the oncoming Turks.

These are only a few of the countless similar incidents, but they showed the blind folly that made the Entente in the Near East a delusion. In France suspicion died slowly. England, despite the Entente, still appeared as the cunning monster which had stolen its colonial empire from the French. Sound public opinion throughout England was only too eager to forget the ancient rivalry and to allow France to attain her just aspirations. It realized that Allied solidarity was the one hope of salvation for ruined Europe, but it met with little response; and from the end of 1919 onwards the Entente split until the French gradually whole-heartedly backed the Turks, and the British half-heartedly backed the Greeks.

The Greeks were from the beginning in a bad position. They strained for greatness. Their resources were meagre and their ambitions great. They set out on a crusade backed by the Allies. But as soon as they left the seashore they found themselves in a barren wild country, and were deserted by the Allies and eventually warned that they must evacuate. They endeavoured to annex lands to which they had no rights except those of force, while on the other hand they were opposed by a people fighting desperately for their homes.

They played, moreover, at being the champions of their oppressed fellow-countrymen in Anatolia, but this was but a fancied role. I remember well an incident that aptly illustrated this. One day, M. Canelopoulos came to the Embassy.

I hope,” said the High Commissioner, “that your Excellency’s troops will advance no further into Anatolia, for, if they do, I fear that all the Christians may be murdered.”

“I hope,” replied M. Canelopoulos, “that the massacres begin soon, for we have need of a raison d’etre for advancing.” And I could only think of the incident a few weeks before when, in fear of the Turkish irregulars, the Greek population had flocked out of the village of Aidin behind Smyrna to follow the retreating Greek troops to safety, and how the Commanding Officer had driven them back knowing that they would be massacred because “he needed a raison d’être for advancing into and beyond Aidin.”

At home the Greeks were unstable. They grew tired of war and the suppression of their liberty. In November, 1919, M. Venizelos warned the Supreme Council that Greece could not continue to keep up a huge army to police Smyrna. The Greeks were in the unfortunate position of the man who put one finger into a sausage-machine and then when he wished to withdraw he could not and had to go through and become a sausage altogether.

Aided by the dissensions of the Allies, by their preoccupation and by their inability to take military action, the Turks succeeded. They found many Allies. Central Asia with Bokhara, Samarkand and Afghanistan was prepared to be troublesome. The British retreat out of the Caspian, their withdrawal in Anatolia, their inability to act in Persia and their weakness in India encouraged many to break out. The Kurds were angry at the idea of an Armenian State, and in June 1919 they became a menace to Irak. The Tartars of Nachivan and the Emir Feisal and the Arabs were disgruntled. In all directions were potential allies and Mustapha Kemal with uncommon skill roused dissatisfaction, raised the hopes of resistance or of advantages to be gained, and turned all the eyes of the dissatisfied towards Angora. The Turkish nation was facing a Christian crusade. It became itself the forefront of a crusade and behind it muttered and growled all Asia ready for revolt.

  Even at their pleasantest they were irritating. (The Greeks and Armenians) had an ulterior motive of gain in every action.


p. 101

I found the Greeks and Armenians liberal in their favours. Their soirees and tea-parties were gay. They chattered in the ugly French of Pera or in pidgin English and broke off at times into their own hoarse languages...

Even at their pleasantest they were irritating. They had an ulterior motive of gain in every action. They irritated because they aped the European. They played at being of the West and civilized, but between them and the European was a gulf as wide as that between the Turk and the British, and it had no subtlety or charm or mystery to hide it.

 

 

pp. 110-123

CHAPTER XIII

The Treaty of Sèvres. The Storm Bursts,
1920


IRRITATED by this show of resistance on the part of a defeated enemy, the Allies decided to teach the Turks a lesson. The British Commander, General Sir George Milne, had some idea of the strength of the Nationalists. The French from their Cilician experiences had more. The Embassies had very little and the Allied Premiers in Paris had no conception at all of the situation that now faced them. They did not realize that they were dealing with a live force and not with the decrepit relics of the old Ottoman Empire. Anatolia was not affected by an economic blockade, nor did it care whether or not it was recognized as one of the family of nations. It was only through Constantinople that punishment could be inflicted, and it was decided to occupy Constantinople officially on the 16th of March.

The occupation was to be carried out by Lieut.-General Sir Henry Wilson as the Officer Commanding the Allied troops of the area. The French and Italian Governments signed the instructions. Their departments in Paris and Rome held up the executive orders.

The occupation was carried out, but by British sailors and soldiers alone; and only when the French and Italians saw that it had been successful and that the whole control of the city and area would be in British hands, did they combine and claim a share in this control. Martial law was proclaimed. The life of the city was to continue as before. The Ottoman Government was allowed to work, but every branch was to be carefully supervised. The Ministry of War, the Admiralty, the customs, passports, ports, telegraphs and newspapers were watched and controlled by Allied officers. The Allied Police Commission already in existence was strengthened, and the French had some organization for the gendarmerie.

On the night prior to the occupation a number of
prominent Turks were arrested as active supporters of the Nationalists. In the prisons there were already many officials and officers, accused of participation in massacres or ill-treatment of prisoners-of-war. They were all shipped off at once and imprisoned in a camp at Malta.

The story of these deportees is a sorry one. Among them were evil criminals, who had murdered prisoners-of-war. Many were ordinary normal Turks who had been leading men in Turkey during the war. Some were arrested on the poor evidence of a couple of Armenian women or on that of an enemy. More than one was arrested in error. They were imprisoned in conditions quite out of keeping with their rank or position. They were kept two years in confinement without being charged with any crime. They were herded all together, those arrested for political offences old and new, and those for massacre, murder and evil crimes. Thus the foul beast Mazlum Bey from Afion-Kara-Hissar, who had murdered British prisoners-of-war and committed loathsome crimes and offences, was confined with Said Halim Pasha, the old Grand Vizier, who had opposed the declaration of war and had been persuaded by Enver Pasha against his better judgment to sign. It was as if the victorious Germans had shut Lord Balfour in with a gang of criminals like Crippen and Mahon. As pressed continually on the Home Government the matter could have been disposed of easily and well. A court could have tried each case, hung the murderer, sent the evil-doer to hard labour, released the innocent and, if considered necessary, interned those politically dangerous. But the affair dragged on, and late in 1921 all these prisoners without distinction were released, and those who wished it were shipped back to Turkey. The results of these deportations were considerable.

All Turks of military age began to leave for Anatolia, and all men of any importance made for Angora. The Sultan’s advisers were believed to have supplied many of the names, and hatred against the Sultan increased. The belief in British justice suffered a rude shock. Many of the deportees were men of great importance. When released they became ministers and deputies in the Angora Government, and their hatred of the British was not diminished by their imprisonment, degradation and general treatment in Malta.

The deportations and the occupation of Constantinople encouraged the Sultan and his supporters. Both he and his brother-in-law Damad Ferid Pasha were early convinced that Mustapha Kemal and the Nationalists were intent on forming a separate Government. It is hard to say how far this attitude on their part drove the Nationalists to separation, or how far the Sultan and his supporters knew their own countrymen well enough to realize that, if given a free hand, they would take this line. The Sultan endeavoured to involve us on his side. We struggled to keep clear, for in February 1919 the High Commissioner had received instructions to protect the Sultan, but to take no action against any Turks who might come into power, even if they were members of the old hostile Committee of Union and Progress, and on no account to become involved in local Turkish affairs.

Very soon the Sultan’s enemies became our enemies, and, in acting in our defence, it was difficult to avoid acting on his behalf. To those on the spot to stand by the Sultan was clearly the sound policy. He represented the de juTe Government. He was friendly, prepared to carry out the Allies’ orders, and he was within their control. British interests were few. We required the Straits open, and fair play for our traders. We needed the moral support of the Khalif for our Moslem subjects. There was on us a moral obligation to protect the Christian minorities. In the early months of 1919 and in 1920, given moral support, a loan and a free hand, the Sultan could have asserted himself and dealt with the first efforts of Mustapha Kemal. The peasantry were still loyal. They believed that they were enlisting to save him. He sent his Grand Vizier hot-foot to the Embassies with warnings and requests to be allowed to act. He was refused permission. He was tied hand and foot and then called upon to carry out the Allies’ demands. As the power passed to the Nationalists, he became valueless. He was an old man, living in constant fear of assassination, and he was dominated by his Grand Vizier.

Damad Ferid was of a far different type. He was a stubborn, brave, unwise old man. He was an Albanian with a touch of Kurdish blood in him, and he had all the fierce hatred of the blood feud in his soul. He was a clansman without compromise. Throughout he had warned the British of the dangers and he had taken what steps he could to destroy the Nationalists, until the breach between Angora and Constantinople was broad and unbridgeable. His personality counted for much. His lack of compromise and his pursuit of his vendetta against his enemies made reconciliation impossible.

Faced by the same enemies, despite intentions to the contrary, we found ourselves working with the Sultan’s party. Undoubtedly a number of the deportees were arrested at Damad Ferid’s request. Now threatened by the Nationalists, we went a step farther. Sir George Milne sent one of his staff, Colonel Shuttleworth, to discuss with Zeki and Hamdi Pashas at the Ministry of War the formation of two divisions of royalist troops to be organized with British officers. As soon as these were ready, they were to be taken by sea to the north coast of Anatolia and marched in on the Nationalist flank and rear.

The Sultan bestirred himself. He issued an Imperial Iradé proclaiming Mustapha Kemal and his associates outlaws and a Fetwa which excommunicated them. He dissolved the Ottoman Government, and recalled back to power Damad Ferid, who had been forced to resign some months before. He tried to raise the Kurds to his aid. The Allies agreed and he arranged for arms and stores to be sent from the depots under Allied control to the Circassians fighting for him under Ahmed Anzayour. He sent troops to Yalova and Ismidt. Still the Allies did not back him fully. Few of the arms and stores reached the Circassians. The local officials held them up and these officials were under Allied control. Up to the end why we should not act together against a common enemy to our mutual advantage was not understood by the Sultan nor by Damad Ferid, nor yet by any reasonable person in possession of the facts.

The result of the Sultan’s actions was negligible, but it drove the Nationalists to fury. They denounced the Central Government. They swore vengeance on Damad Ferid. They formed at Angora the Grand National Assembly to carry on the government of the country, as long as Constantinople was in bondage. They prepared to fight to the end.

Then the full storm burst on us with blow on crashing blow. Hardly had the occupation been completed before the Turks surrounded the British garrison at Eski-Shehir. All other garrisons and Control Officers had been withdrawn to avoid capture or arrest except this one, and it had been left on the railway junction to assist the retirement of Italian troops from Konia. The garrison cut its way out, but lost a number of men and animals. The Italians with their line of retreat gone were forced to turn off at Afion-Kara-Hissar, and escape by the Greek zone and Smyrna. In Europe Germany showed signs of revolt, and a revolution in favour of the Kaiser blazed up for a while. Ireland was twisted in pain, and all the force of England was concentrated in holding her down. The Kurds were rising on the Mesopotamian frontier. Behind us in Eastern Thrace a certain Jaffar Tahir had raised the Turks, and they were arming and drilling and organizing from Adrianople.

Grey Wolf by Harold Armstrong; cover for the book

Harold Armstrong would go on to author a mostly
unflattering portrait of Kemal Ataturk in a 1932 book

Infuriated at the attitude of the Sultan, Mustapha Kemal and the new Government at Angora proceeded forthwith to make a military convention with the Bolshevik Government of Moscow. Denikin and his counter-revolutionary troops had been smashed. They had shown neither efficiency nor honesty. The Turks and the Bolsheviks had a common aim in the destruction of the British Empire, their common enemy. They struck at her feet in the East. The Bolsheviks seized Azerbaijan. By a concentrated action with the Turks from the south they forced Armenia to her knees, and captured Kars and Nakhitchevan. Now Nakhitchevan and Kars form the back door of Anatolia and a side door to Persia, and are on the way to Mesopotamia. The Allied general staffs became alarmed. They prepared plans to stop the Russian advance southwards. They feared Bolshevik propaganda on the heels of victorious troops. The British discussed the safety of Bagdad and Jerusalem and even produced schemes to cover the Suez Canal.

The Sultan’s troops, sent to Yalova and Adabazar, refused to fight in the civil war. Those under Ahmed Anzavour were driven back, and wiped out, and he was himself killed.

In May the terms of the Treaty of Sèvres were published. President Wilson and the Americans had left the Conference in December 1919, and with them they took all their idealism. The Peace Conference reverted to old European methods and diplomacy. The secret treaties of the war, that had hovered behind the Conference like pale ghosts, afraid of the light from America, now came forward. The march of events had at last warned the Allies and they set to work to be finished with Turkey. The result was the Treaty of Sèvres.

It was based and bound on the secret treaties. Italy and Greece, before they entered the war with the Allies, had bargained for their prices and had been promised sections of Anatolia as payment. France had her aspirations, and England her policies. They were all fitted into the treaty. Annexation of territory was concealed behind the American idea of " mandates." Syria and Cilicia went to France. Smyrna and Western Thrace and most of Eastern Thrace to Greece. Italy got the islands. Russia had been promised Constantinople and the area of the Straits and the Bosphorus. But she was out of the running and they were put under an international régime with the Greeks down the western shore of the Marmora and on the Gallipoli peninsula.

The Turks, with Smyrna cut out, were to have Anatolia as far as the Georgian, Armenian, Kurdish, and Mesopotamian frontiers, but every detail of their lives was to be supervised. There were Commissions and Sub-Commissions. There was the Sub-Commission of Organization to disband the Turkish army and to form the new forces of a limited volunteer army and gendarmerie. There was a Sub-Commission to look after custom officials, forest guards and urban and rural police. Nominal sovereign rights were left to the Turks, but they were bound hand and foot with rigid irons. Their finances were strictly controlled.

Attached to the treaty, and not made public until Damad Ferid had signed, was a tripartite agreement between England, France and Italy. It divided Anatolia into three pieces. In the Southern portion the "special interests of Italy were recognized." In the Eastern section "the special interests of France were recognized." The remaining portion was not allotted, but it was presumed that England would have "special interests" there. Beyond this all the sections of the old Ottoman Empire were portioned off to Arabs and Kurds and Jews.
It was incredible that under the conditions in existence at that moment such a treaty could have been proposed. The Ottoman Empire was dead, and so far as the treaty marked that fact it was of value; but it took no stock of the new forces, of the weakness of the Allies and the strength of the enemy. Compromises undoubtedly made it unreal. Those who framed it must have been completely ignorant of the position of affairs, and their advisers woefully ignorant of geography and ethnology. I was amazed at the attitude of some of the advisers.

On his way to Paris, one sat in my office and blandly discussed whether Proportional Representation rather than the Majority Electoral System had better be included in the constitution of the Kurdish state, about to be framed; and for some time it was seriously considered giving the mandate of the Jewish home in Palestine to the Arab King of the Hedjaz. The treaty was grossly immoral. This portioning out of the homelands of a people into sections like slabs of bread to be devoured by various powers has, throughout modern history, been considered immoral. Moreover, by its “spheres of interest” it perpetrated the ancient rivalry between the nations in Turkey.

The publication of the terms had an instantaneous effect. All Turks realized that it meant their destruction. The sea-shore was to be taken from them, and they were to be confined to central Anatolia. A hostile Armenia was to be formed in their rear, and they were to be chained hand and foot by controls. Their attitude stiffened. They were now to fight not the Greeks alone, but all the Allies, to save themselves from annihilation. They at once attacked and captured the French garrison Bozanti, and the French Government was glad to to terms and sign an armistice with them.

Turks set their teeth and reorganized. They smashed what was left of the Sultan’s troops and finished the civil war. All dissensions and quarrels among them disappeared. The Eastern troops were put under Kiazim Kara Bekir and the Western under Ali Fuad Pasha with the central supreme command of Mustapha Kemal at Angora. Now all parties, except the immediate entourage of the Sultan, combined in the struggle to save their country, and every Turk worth his salt became a Nationalist.

It was a fight to the finish. They closed in on the Allies in Constantinople. They attacked the French battalion that protected the coal mines at Zangulduk and this was at once withdrawn. The last few troops of the Italians scampered out of Anatolia to avoid destruction.

The Bolsheviks had pushed in across the Caucasus and, to avoid contact, as ordered by the War Office the British retired and so evacuated Batum and all the Caucasus. This left the flank of Wrangel’s anti-revolutionary army exposed. The Bolsheviks had swung into northern Persia and with their coming the treaty signed between England and Persia on the 9th of August, 1919, and all the structure that was built on it, collapsed.

That treaty is worthy of a passing notice, for it aptly illustrates, from Persia, much that led to the failure in Turkey. It was a treaty made in haste and secrecy and only published when signed. It was done under the supervision of Lord Curzon, who as a distinguished amateur diplomatist had had an exceptional record of failure. It was made against the advice of many great experts, such as Lord Grey. It was the old diplomatic method of trying to get ahead of other Powers, but it only annoyed our Allies and helped to break the Entente. As in the Treaty of Sèvres, it ignored the size of the military forces of the British Empire. It took on vast commitments without the means to carry them out. The British army was being reduced to a few divisions.

These were needed for India and Ireland. It is not too much to say that if all the schemes of Mr. Lloyd George and Lord Curzon had been carried out, troops would have been required to police a frontier from Burma to Teheran, from Teheran to the Caspian with a post at Constantinople. The Bolshevik advance finally disposed of that treaty.

The East was up. A sheet of flame ran across it. India was seething. A great Moslem pilgrimage to Kabul was in progress as a protest against British Christian rule. The Amir thinking that India was in disorder followed the tradition of his ancestors, declared war and advanced on India for his loot. The Hindus were unsettled and the Amritzar riots were a symptom. In Egypt there was revolt. The East was indeed aflame, and it was not merely the Moslem East for Hindus and Moslems in India, Syria Christians and Mohammedans in Syria against the French, and Copts and Moslems in Egypt, had combined for resistance on common grounds.

June found the British Empire in the East buffeted with great blows and rocking to its foundations. Of force there was none to employ. Ireland had absorbed the small army that the British were prepared to support. We had enmeshed ourselves in the wastes of Mesopotamia, and the Arabs rose against our benign rule on the 3rd of June. In Turkey the Nationalists had cleared all Anatolia of Allied troops, except the Greeks in the Smyrna area, and the British had fallen back on a line behind Ismidt to cover Constantinople. In front of them entrenched was the last remnant of the Sultan’s troops. The Turks waited no more. Ali Fuad Pasha attacked. He drove in the half-hearted Sultanic troops without effort, and they retired through the British lines. Without hesitation the Nationalists attacked the British. On the night of the 15th-16th of June three assaults were repulsed with difficulty. The French were hard pressed at Heraclea. Irregulars raided the villages on the Asiatic shores of the Bosphorus and from Beicos opened fire on the fleet as it lay at anchor there. A shot or two struck the Austrian Embassy where the British High Commissioner and his staff were lodged.

I was asleep on a terrace in the Embassy when I was awaked before dawn by the rifle fire. There was confusion and panic and noise. Across the Bosphorus came firing and shouting. Below in the village on our side the Christians were running round in terror. A battleship opened fire with its light guns and a regiment of Indian infantry was hurried up. But it was a lesson. The raiders were the skirmishers of the Turkish Army. Constantinople, the High Commission, the handful of Allied troops lay naked and exposed to them except for the navy; and in an affair of this nature ships are of little value except for evacuation.

The few troops in the Asiatic shore were in detachments down the railway to Ismidt that runs along the shore of the Marmora. As soon as the Turks realized the position they proceeded to pass down the flank towards Constantinople. At Derindje the depot of stores was burnt and blown up in preparation for retreat. The long bridge on the railway beyond Guebze was mined for destruction. The Turks were seen to be massing for an attack on the Ismidt detachment. It was a critical hour. The fleet opened fire and the great shells blew up the Cloth Factory of Ismidt behind which the enemy troops were concentrating, and did great damage. For the minute the Turks hesitated. On the Dardanelles they were pressing in and the defences and guns there were destroyed. All preparation for a hurried evacuation of the Allies’ forces was made. The townspeople of Constantinople were in terror, for they could not but see what was happening. There were but two alternatives—to fight or run, and the Allies did not appear able or willing to fight.

 


pp. 124-129

CHAPTER XIV
The Greeks save the Allies and thrust back the Turks

THE Allied Premiers looked round in despair. At last they half realized the situation. The East was up. The Bolsheviks were becoming dominant. The Turks were about to throw the Allied troops “ bag and baggage “ and in rout, out of Constantinople. Great Britain had her hands full. The few troops at her disposal were in Ireland. The Indian Army was doubtful in loyalty, and even its British officers were disgruntled with constant changes and the insistent threats of reduction. The French were busy in Syria. and Africa and still afraid of Germany. The Italians were striving with the agonies of attempted red revolution. The Premiers looked round in despair.

Quiet, plausible, unmoved stood M. Venizelos. His eye-glasses and charm of manner give him an air of childlike simplicity, but, as ever, with careful shrewd calculation he was ready in Paris. At a reasonable price he was prepared to place the Greek troops at the disposal of the Allies. The price of more land round Smyrna and the immediate occupation of Eastern Thrace were at once agreed upon. The Greeks would do the dirty work of the Allies. Moreover, as Mr. Lloyd George fully realized, Greece was always open to coercion by a Power with a fleet.

The Allies urged the Greeks to go forward at once. The French were as insistent as the British. They saw that a Greek advance meant a relaxation of pressure in Cilicia and the Turks off the Baghdad line. They urged General Paraskevopoulos, the Greek Commander-in-Chief, not to delay.

The Greeks advanced on the 22nd of June, 1920. On all fronts they met with easy success. Their regular,  well-conditioned troops advanced with hardly a check. Eastern Thrace was at once occupied. The Turks fled. Jaffar Tahir, the Turkish Commander, was ignominiously captured. The Greeks marched into Adrianople, and close up to the city of Constantinople within long gun range, on the line laid down in the Treaty of Sèvres.
From Smyrna three columns advanced. The one in conjunction with the British fleet went due north and cleared the south coast of the Marmora and took Brusa. The second advanced straight into the Turks at Alashehir, and then left the plains to mount the plateau and halted at Ushaq. The third from Aidin advanced
out, keeping parallel with the column on Ushaq; and a division was sent to Ismidt to take over the peninsula and to cover the Allies in Constantinople. Everywhere the Turks had broken and retreated with little resistance.

The position was saved. The Allied Premiers were once more under the delusion that they were dealing with the scrappy remnants of the tumbled-down Ottoman Empire. They pointed to the Greek success as proof that their advisers on the spot had been over-anxious and their information incorrect. But they had misread the real situation. The Turks were vigorously organizing away in Anatolia. The troops driven in by the Greeks were but screens of irregulars and outposts. The Turkish nation with its teeth set was straining to get ready. It was fighting for its very life.

M. Venizelos had contracted to be allowed to advance as far as the main railway and to hold Eski-Shehir and Afion-Kara-Hissar. This was sound strategy with a good line along his front and a good railway to Smyrna and his base. But he stopped at Ismidt, Brusa, Ushaq and beyond Aidin in deference to the wishes of the Allies. In this decision lay disaster. The four columns were disconnected. Their communications with the base were good only in one case. Strategically their new line had nothing in its favour, and, if attacked by good troops, they must have been broken in detail. With the coming winter the Greeks were to suffer much and to gain nothing by their advance.

Meanwhile the Allies were content. Damad Ferid for the Sublime Porte signed the treaty in August, and preparations were made to put its provisions into force, even before ratification. The Turkish nation beyond the Greek outposts had been forgotten.
At this moment, had the Allies been prepared to make a milder peace, there is little doubt that this could have been done. The Turks were much shaken by the Greek attack. The Nationalist regular troops were not ready. If the Greeks continued to advance, they could not be stopped. The Turkish generals could give ground to save time; but it meant giving to their hated and despised enemy good pieces of Anatolia, and it meant that these had to be recovered. The Greeks were prepared to compromise, for they felt the strain. But the Allies upheld the terms of the Treaty of Sèvres, and, within the Allied zone in Constantinople, Damad Ferid and the Sultan thundered out their hatred and were for no compromise.

By the autumn of 1920 the position had crystallized. The Allies with a handful of troops sat in Constantinople and held a small neutral zone round it, that contained the Straits and the Bosphorus. Beyond them and protecting them and their only protection was the Greek screen making a complete barrier on every side. And beyond that in Anatolia were the Turks working and organizing, growing formidable, and on their side were Time and Space and the unknown forces of Central Asia and Bolshevik Russia. Within the Allied zone the Powers quarrelled. The old intrigues were in full play. The nominal Turkish Government with the Sultan still remained, but it had become no more than the Borough Council of Constantinople, with limited powers. Except as an irritant, it had ceased to affect the situation.

Constantinople had become a backwater. The Home Government paid scanty attention to its representatives on the spot. I had always been surprised at the manner the advice and information offered by those on the spot was ignored by the Home Government. Hardly a recommendation on important subjects made by the High Commissioner was accepted. His warnings were laughed at and his advice was passed over. He had not been consulted before the occupation of Smyrna by the Greeks. In its early stages he had wished to deal with the Nationalist movement, and he had been forbidden to do so. He had had no say in the terms of the Treaty of Sèvres. In every case his advice had been sound, and it had been ignored or listened to too late. Now the High Commission had become no more than a glorified post-office, with a department for forwarding and re-addressing letters and requests. There was an incident that aptly illustrated the position. Eighteen days after the issue of the Treaty of Sèvres no copy had reached the High Commission. Mr. Ryan, the Dragoman, when visiting the Grand Vizier, saw that he had several copies on a table, and Damad Ferid Pasha kindly gave him a copy. From this we discovered the exact details of the Treaty of Sèvres. It is said that Admiral Sir John de Robeck, the High Commissioner, telegraphed the same evening to the Foreign Office to the effect:

“Beg to inform you Turks have to-day presented terms of Peace Treaty to Allies,”

and that the laconic reply came back:

“High Commissioner’s number so and so not understood.”

That reply was symbolical of the relation between the Home Government and the High Commissioner. Had his advice been followed, or even listened to, in the early months of the Armistice, the impasse now arrived at would not have occurred. Wireless and telephone and telegraph and swift ships and trains had withdrawn his power to act. A hundred years ago he would have acted quickly and decisively on his own initiative. The Empire was built by local action carried through by men of spirit. Now he was tied to the end of a telegraph wire and his orders were always to wait and remain inactive, while he watched chances slip away and disaster chase out victory.

In October 1920 I left Turkey on leave. Constantinople was short-circuited. The military decisions rested with the Greeks and the Turks. The peace decisions lay between Paris, Athens and Angora. As the last pawn in the hands of the Allies the city and area of Constantinople was retained.

I travelled on the Orient Express and there I found Mr. Ramsay MacDonald, Mr. Tom Shaw, Mrs. Philip Snowden and a party of the leading Socialists from France, Holland and Belgium.

They had just returned from Southern Russia after a careful investigation into the results of the Russian Revolution. They were openly depressed. The so-called “Workers’ Revolution,” that had been acclaimed as one of the successes of the Labour movement, had proved a failure. It had been a vast experiment along lines preached by the Socialists, and it had brought
nothing but black ruin. Without hesitation Mr. Ramsay MacDonald and his friends pronounced Bolshevism to be a failure. They were convinced that fire and sword and the use of naked force were not the way to produce a new and perfect social order. They were opposed to “ Force “ in all its forms.

 


 
pp. 136-140

...,(F)rom various quarters the Turks found sympathizers. There were a number of experts and persons genuinely of the belief that, as a great Mohammedan power, it was our duty to be friendly to Turkey. With them were a mass of Indian officials and officers brought up in the traditions of the Punjaub and the Moslem element of the Indian Army and administrative services in India. With these stood Mr. Montagu, the Secretary of State for India.

It was a curious anomaly that any Western Power should have had such a man in office. From the minute, in 1919, when he shepherded the Indian delegation before the Peace Conference, it was obvious that this was an Asiatic fighting for Asia against the European. In a stray minute I wandered down the main corridor of the India Office. Its walls are covered with the pictures of the Secretaries of State for India. There were there great men with great names. Their cast of face showed their breeding and their essential European character. Alone among them sneered down the photograph of Mr. Montagu, with a face Asiatic and Eastern. He became the champion of the Khalifate and of the Turks as the protectors of the Khalif. He became the mouthpiece of the combine of Moslems and Hindus of India that used the bogey of Pan-Islam and the Khalifate for their own political ends. He spent much of his time pathetically complaining that no one would listen to him or pay attention to his warnings.

Over all Mr. Lloyd George rode rough-shod till Lord Curzon and the Foreign Office came to a state of suspended animation, and Mr. Montagu and the India Office to that of suspended irritation.

Mr. Lloyd George had grown almost abnormal in his belief in and his respect for the Greeks. He was not au courant with the problems of the Near East. He had little knowledge of the value of its various peoples. As a politician much of his strength lay in the Nonconformist vote, and this was solidly against the Turks. He had behind him the tradition of Gladstone. He realized the vital importance of the Mediterranean as a high-road of the Empire and that both Italy and France desired to make it their own specially preserved lake. He saw that a Greater Greece was an aid to British policy. He had stumbled on the undoubted fact that for many a long day Greek and British interests in the Mediterranean must go hand in hand. It is said that he had also stumbled on to the knowledge that there had been an Ancient Greece with its great poets and philosophers and that this had inspired his Welsh soul. This may or may not be so, for, as M. Clemenceau once said, “I know that Mr. Lloyd George can read, but I do not know if he ever does.”

Under the influence of the charm of M. Venizelos he saw in a brilliant picture a Greek Empire reviving in Europe and Anatolia the splendours of its ancestors, keeping open the Straits for Europe, holding back the Asiatic and infidel Turk, and maintaining the Mediterranean high-road for the British Empire. He recognized that if Greece should grow obstreperous, she was open to rapid punishment by a sea-power.

Without hesitation he had thrown in all his weight on the Greek side. He ignored the experts who warned him of failure and even M. Venizelos, who in late 1919 told him that Greece could not stand too great a strain. When the facts became obvious, he still refused to see them. The vision that he had seen was magnificent, but it was false in the most vital essentials. The Greeks did not possess the art of ruling. They had neither the ability nor the resources to carry out the great role assigned to them. Mr. Lloyd George chose a weapon that broke in his hand.
As a warning came three severe blows. As the result of a fantastic combination of incidents King Alexander died on the 25th of October, 1920, from the effects of the bite of a monkey. The Greeks recalled King Constantine and his German wife, and ejected M. Venizelos. The French had long since ceased to aid the Greeks and were actively helping the Turks. They seized this opportunity to repudiate officially their support of Greece.
The Bolsheviks defeated the armies of General Wrangel, and so chased out of Southern Russia the last of the anti-revolutionary forces. Mustapha Kemal and the Bolsheviks formed an alliance and portioned out Armenia between them.

The ejection of M. Venizelos from Greece and the defeat of General Wrangel were due to a common cause. In both cases the Allies had interfered in the private quarrels of other states, and by their interference ensured the success of their enemies and the failure of their protégés. They had not so much backed the wrong horse as backed one horse, and automatically it had become the wrong one.

The ejection of M. Venizelos amazed many people, but it was supremely natural. The Greeks as a whole were fond of their king, and they had shown little desire to enter the Great War on the side of the Allies. Venizelos throughout 1916 fought for the Allies. He worked against his king and the general sentiment of the Greeks. He never understood the Greeks. They hated him, for he was a Cretan. On the 25th of June, 1917, he marched into Athens with a French force at his back and carried the country into the war. The allied victory gave him great prestige, but no popularity.
Throughout the next few years he was a dictator. The prisons were full of his political opponents. He was autocratic. He refused the Greeks the liberty to argue and talk politics, which, in Athens, meant that he was sitting on the safety-valve. In his republican ideas he was in opposition to the general sentiment, and his power rested on foreign bayonets, on foreign money and on the foreign influence which he had introduced into an internal quarrel. He was ejected, and, when he was called back in the hour of defeat, it was because the Greeks were convinced that without foreign help they were lost.

These events in Greece and the Turkish-Bolshevik alliance should have been somewhat of a warning, but they were ignored. It is a curious commentary on the role of a politician. The backing of M. Venizelos and Greece was a fatal error of judgment that involved great losses. Had a soldier or sailor made such an error, he would have been relieved of his command, but Mr. Lloyd George continued to thrive.

Without grasping the realities or considering the potentialities of the position, steps were taken to put the terms of the Treaty of Sèvres into action, and I found myself detailed to assist in forming the necessary organization and plans. Commissions of all sorts, as in the treaty, were plotted out. Pay and equipment and their knotty details were argued over and