CHAPTER IX

THE PROPOSED DEVOLUTION OF THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE

If a new Rip Van Winkle had gone to sleep at any time in the nineteenth

century and awoke to-day, one column in the morning newspaper would

afford him no sensation and surprise. Were his eye to fall first upon a

despatch from Constantinople, he would read it without discovering his

long sleep. Metternich and Castlereagh and Talleyrand, Palmerston and

Napoleon III, Bismarck and Disraeli and Waddington would find history

repeating itself with a vengeance on the Bosphorus.

Throughout the World War and during the period of equal duration that

followed the collapse of Turkey, European diplomacy ran true to form

in the Near East. None can study the history of the great powers in

relation to the Balkans and Turkey and maintain that the crisis of

1914–23 shows a difference of spirit and methods from the crises of

1801–15, 1821–30, 1833–40, 1851–56, 1875–78, 1885–86, 1893–1903, and

1908–13. This is a peculiarly distressing and hopeless statement to

make more than four years after the creation of the League of Nations.

But the truth does not set us free unless we know the truth.

Some who believe that the world was regenerated by reason of our

victory over the Germans, and that the high principles of President

Wilson are triumphing in international affairs because “after all we

have the League of Nations,” declare that the Near Eastern situation

is simply one failure which should not discredit the peace settlement

as a whole. One hears them argue on the platform and one sees their

articles--especially “letters to the editor”--flooding the press. We

cannot expect perfection, they say, and the United States should be

ashamed to have failed joining our comrades-in-arms to inaugurate a new

era in world affairs. Differences of opinion among the Entente Powers?

Friction in the Near East? Inability to agree upon a common policy to

adopt toward Turkey? These are minor matters. The great fact is that

the League of Nations is functioning!

The Near Eastern situation, however, is not a minor matter, and

insisting upon having a hand in it would have been the first move of

the League of Nations, had that organization been capable of tackling

the problems to meet and provide a solution for which it was ostensibly

created. The bloody wars of the nineteenth century had their origin

in international rivalry in the Near East. The inability of Turkey to

retain her European provinces made inevitable the recent World War.

The war began in the Balkans, and there was no hope of its ending

until a decisive victory had been won in the Balkans. Nor is there any

hope of world peace until peace is made in the Balkans. The future of

Constantinople has been the dominating factor in setting the great

powers against one another since the World War precisely as before the

World War. The elimination of Germany from the group of contestants

does not seem to make any difference. When there is a bone, one dog

less does not mean the end of the fight.

The armistice of Mudros, signed on October 30, 1918, gave the Entente

Powers control of Constantinople and the Straits and stipulated the

evacuation of the Russian Transcaucasian provinces by the Turks.

Mesopotamia, Palestine, and Syria were already in Allied hands

by conquest. Immediately after the armistice the British pressed

forward into Cilicia. Three days before the armistice with Germany,

Great Britain and France issued a joint declaration in the Near

East, announcing that they had no designs upon these countries but

were there simply as liberators, with the intention of helping the

oppressed non-Turkish elements of the Ottoman Empire to attain complete

independence.

But the Entente Powers, separately and together, were already bound

by secret agreements which contained their real intentions concerning

the devolution of the Ottoman Empire. In March, 1915, the British and

French Governments agreed that Russia was to have Constantinople and

the European hinterland up to a line drawn from Enos on the Ægean to

Midia on the Black Sea; the islands in the Sea of Marmora; Imbros and

Tenedos outside the Dardanelles; and the coast of Asia Minor from

the Bosphorus to the mouth of the Sakaria River across to the Gulf

of Ismid. In exchange, Russia assented to the giving of the middle

neutral zone of Persia to Great Britain and to the proclamation of

the independence of Arabia. This agreement was enlarged, after Italy

entered the war, to give Russia all of Armenia as a sphere of influence.

On April 26, 1915, Great Britain, France, and Russia, among the bribes

offered in the secret Treaty of London, promised Italy full sovereignty

over the Dodecanese Islands and the port of Adalia, in the southwestern

corner of Asia Minor, with the strategic hinterland. This was afterward

enlarged to include a generous quarter or more of Asia Minor, going

north to include Smyrna and east to include Konia in the Italian sphere

of influence.

In May, 1916, France and Great Britain, to whom had been left by Russia

and Italy the non-Turkish-speaking portions of the empire as spoils,

concluded the Sykes-Picot agreement, by which France was to have Syria

and Cilicia with the hinterland to Mosul, while Great Britain was to

take Mesopotamia and Palestine.

Beginning in the summer of 1915, British emissaries began to treat

with Sherif Hussein of Mecca to induce him to revolt against the

Turks. Negotiations were carried on for a year. The revolution broke

out at the beginning of June, 1916, when Hussein proclaimed himself

independent of Ottoman rule. In December, 1916, Great Britain, France,

and Italy recognized the Hedjaz as an independent kingdom, with Hussein

for sovereign. The support of the Arabs being vital to the British both

in the Mesopotamian and Palestinian expeditions, the British Government

made secret promises to King Hussein of territorial arrangements which

conflicted with their earlier promises to the French. This was revealed

at the Peace Conference when Emir Feisal, the king’s son, presented

the claims of his country to the Council of Ten. The Hedjaz signed the

peace treaty and became a member of the League of Nations. The English

were involved also in promises given to the Arab tribes of Mesopotamia

and the Yemen, made when the situation was desperate, and to the

Egyptians. Adding to the embarrassing conflicts in these promises,

on December 2, 1917, the British Government, by what is known as the

Balfour Declaration, promised to make Palestine a “home-land” for the

Jews!

The defection of Russia reopened the most thorny problem of all,

the control of Constantinople and the Straits. When the war was

over, British, French and Italians occupied Constantinople, not very

harmoniously, while their statesmen, still less harmoniously, wrangled

and bargained over the disposition of the city.

When the Peace Conference opened, the French aim was to become the

dominant power in the eastern Mediterranean. Frenchmen of the old

school and young illuminati alike had never forgiven Great Britain for

grabbing Cyprus and doing France out of the Suez Canal and Egypt. Even

the Frenchmen most in sympathy with the British were nervous, realizing

that the forte of Great Britain after every war was to reap where she

had sown not. When a peace treaty was signed after a war--any war--the

choicest bits of spoils were found to have entered into the joy of the

_pax britannica_. After this war, the first one with extra-European

spoils in which the French had been on the winning side--that is,

Britain’s side--they determined to have a different deal. Canada and

India, Egypt and many islands, were past history. The Near East had

been culturally French since the crusades. From Saloniki to Beirut,

France was determined to reign supreme. Palestine represented the very

last concession it was possible for the French to make. Of course,

they did not hope to possess Constantinople, but they were not going

to let the British settle themselves on the Bosphorus as they had done

at Gibraltar and Port Said. This would mean British domination of the

Mediterranean and Black Seas, and for British capital and goods the

priority in markets that had been traditionally French.

Up to the time of the armistice, and afterward until the collapse of

Baron Wrangel, France hoped for the miracle of the regeneration of

Russia. This would have solved the Constantinople question. And as

long as Venizelos was in power in Greece the French did not despair

of preventing Greece from becoming infeudated to Great Britain. But

aspirations in the eastern Mediterranean had to be subordinated to the

more important aspiration of controlling the Rhine.

The British Foreign Office saw this from the very beginning of the

Peace Conference and indicated to Mr. Lloyd George the successive moves

in a skilful game. The British premier balked every time his French

colleagues wanted to speak firmly to Germany--balked on the Rhine

occupation, the Saar Valley, the entry into Frankfort, the taking over

of the Ruhr basin, the Upper Silesian settlement, the amount and method

of payment of the German indemnity, the trial of war prisoners, and the

enforcement of German disarmament. Much of the opposition was sincere

and based on common sense. But every time Mr. Lloyd George gave in to

the French it was a case of _do ut des_; one after the other the French

aims in the Near East suffered dimunition at the expense of British

aims. It was not through intrigues and superior skill in working out

policies in the Near East that the British gradually gained control of

Constantinople, and extended the frontiers of Mesopotamia and Palestine

beyond the Sykes-Picot line, but by agreeing to back the French in some

new demand upon Germany!

French and British diplomacy, in considering the devolution of the

Ottoman Empire, agreed on two points only: the necessity of using the

Greeks to prevent Italy’s scheme of monopolizing the commerce of Asia

Minor through control of Smyrna; and the passing of the buck to the

United States to take over the vast bleak mountains of Armenia, so that

we could become benefactors of the helpless and policemen to guard

against the infiltration of Bolshevism, while the rich and fertile

parts of the empire were being exploited by themselves.[7]

With all these conflicting aims, motives, and treaty entanglements, is

it any wonder that the Peace Conference year brought no agreement as

to the terms of the treaty to be imposed upon Turkey? When the Treaty

of Versailles and the other treaties were imposed, Germany, Austria,

Hungary, and Bulgaria were compelled to sign a blank check, agreeing

beforehand to whatever disposition of the Ottoman Empire the Principal

Allied and Associated Powers might make. So they were out of it! But

these treaties did contain a very definite provision for the peoples

of Turkey. Article XXII of the League of Nations Covenant provides a

mandatory government “to those colonies and territories which as a

consequence of the late war have ceased to be under the sovereignty of

states which formerly governed them and which are inhabited by peoples

not yet able to stand by themselves under the strenuous conditions of

the modern world.” The “well-being and development of such people form

a sacred trust of civilization,” so the Covenant declared, and they

were divided into three classes. The first dealt with the liberated

regions of the Ottoman Empire. The text is explicit:

Certain communities formerly belonging to the Turkish Empire have

reached a stage of development where their existence as independent

nations can be provisionally recognized subject to the rendering of

administrative advice and assistance by a Mandatory until such time

as they are able to stand alone. The wishes of these communities

must be a principal consideration in the selection of the Mandatory.

The mandatory idea was seized upon by General Smuts as a way of

overcoming Mr. Wilson’s strenuous objection to the _fait accompli_

of the distribution of Germany’s colonies. The American President

accepted this in good faith, and agreed to present to the American

people the proposal that the United States assume the Armenian mandate.

Taking for granted the sincerity of his colleagues, he proposed that

an international commission be sent to the Ottoman Empire to ascertain

“the wishes of these communities” in regard to the selection of

mandatory powers. His colleagues agreed; but they did not send their

delegates. The Americans went alone, and brought back a report quite at

variance with the mandate distribution as arranged among the Entente

Powers.

What Mr. Wilson did not appreciate was the fact that the moot questions

had been settled long before the war ended by secret compacts, and that

the object of the Paris Conference was not to draw up terms of peace,

in the interest of the peoples and regions concerned, but to arrive at

a satisfactory adjustment of interests among the victors. The Turkish

treaty was not drafted in 1919 simply because the Entente premiers

could not agree upon a satisfactory compromise. They paid no attention

to the Covenant, with its mandatory provision. It was too much to

ask of them the fulfilment of this promise when they were unable to

reconcile their previous commitments.

For instance, Article XII could not be carried out either in Palestine

or Syria. Ninety per cent of the Palestinians, including thousands

of its Jewish population, were bitterly opposed to the Balfour

Declaration. Mr. Wilson’s mandate commission discovered that the

great bulk of the Syrians were hostile to the French mandate. When

Emir Feisal took over Damascus, in conformity with the Anglo-Hedjaz

agreement and the undoubted wishes of its inhabitants, the French sent

an army against him, drove him out, and hanged “for treason” many of

his followers. In vain the Hedjaz invoked Articles XIII, XV, XVI, and

XVII of the Covenant, which were supposed to make impossible such an

event as the French expedition against Damascus. The inhabitants of

Palestine, also, have tried for more than four years to get a hearing

from the League of Nations, which has consistently ignored Article

XXII. The Arabs of Mesopotamia were unable to secure the recognition

of their rights until they had succeeded in driving the British almost

entirely out of their country. The French formed the Armenians of

Cilicia into regiments, told them that they were fighting for their

independence, and then deserted them when French interests seemed to

make it advantageous to betray the Armenians and hand Cilicia back to

the Turks.

The Conference of Paris adjourned without having come to an agreement

upon three vital questions: the terms of the treaty with Turkey, the

adoption of a common policy toward Russia, and an understanding as to

the means to be employed to compel Germany to fulfil the terms of the

Treaty of Versailles. These problems led to a series of continuation

conferences from 1920 to 1923, without reaching understandings of even

a quasi-permanent nature. The continuation conferences as a whole are

discussed in another chapter. Here we shall limit ourselves to the

Conference of San Remo, in April, 1920, which endeavored to settle the

devolution of the Ottoman Empire by drafting a treaty with Turkey. The

results of its deliberations were the ill fated Treaty of Sèvres and

the demonstration of two facts: that the three great problems cited

above could not be dissociated; and that the Entente premiers believed

that the League of Nations could not help in the solution of any one of

them.

Had Czarist Russia survived the war, she would have installed herself

at Constantinople. There would have been no question of international

control of the Straits, an independent Armenia, or the satisfaction of

Greek national aspirations. When the three premiers met at San Remo,

almost a year after Premier Venizelos had been invited at Paris by

Great Britain, France, and the United States to occupy Smyrna, they

had to reckon with electorates weary of war and taxes and unwilling

to engage in further military ventures in the Near East. Outside

of Constantinople, held under the guns of battle-ships, the only

forces available for compelling respect of their decisions were the

Greek armies in Western Thrace and Smyrna. It was a case either of

surrendering the fruits of the victory over Turkey or of recognizing,

in a measure at least, Greek claims.

The first alternative was dismissed. Russia seemed to be behind Turkish

nationalism, and the Entente Powers feared that a capitulation of

Turkey would not bring peace, but rather the spread of Bolshevism in

western Asia, the stirring up again of Bulgaria, the weakening of

Rumania and Poland, and the encouragement of nationalist movements

throughout the Mohammedan world. It seemed the lesser of two evils to

allow the Greeks to defend Thrace and the Smyrna region against the

Turks by granting the titles Venizelos claimed. Lloyd George faced the

breakdown of the attempt to make the Caucasus a barrier to Bolshevism,

and Millerand knew that the French army in the Orient was not strong

enough to hold the positions it had occupied confidently the year

before. In fact, the Nationalists under Mustafa Kemal Pasha had already

defeated the French and driven them out of several cities, and it was

only a question of time when General Gouraud would be compelled to ask

the Turks for an armistice in Syria. Premier Nitti had withdrawn the

Italian forces from Konia, and had adopted the policy of encouraging

the Nationalists against the Greeks. The Greek army might be able to

create such a diversion in Thrace and the hinterland of Smyrna as to

save French prestige and prevent the whole-hearted coöperation of Turks

with Russians.

In regard to Turkey, three decisions were necessary: what territories

to detach, how to force the Turks to give them up, and what to do with

them. The premiers were no more ready to make these decisions in April,

1920, than they had been the year before, but there always must be

an end to a transitory period. The delay was affecting the prestige

of the Entente Powers, was giving encouragement to Germany, and was

threatening the harmonious relations among the visitors in the World

War.

The compromise of San Remo, embodied in the treaty to be presented to

the Turks at Sèvres, followed the lines of the other treaties. Its

principal conditions were: (1) open Straits in peace and war to all

ships; (2) control of the Straits by an international commission;

(3) demolition of fortifications, and demilitarization within a zone

twelve miles inland from the coast on both sides of the Bosphorus and

Dardanelles, thus excluding the Turks from Gallipoli peninsula; (4)

cession of Thrace up to the defenses of Constantinople to Greece; (5)

limitations in the Turkish sovereignty over Constantinople; (6) Greek

protectorate over Smyrna, with a generous hinterland; (7) Italian

protectorate over Adalia; (8) acceptance of a boundary in the east to

be communicated later, beyond which Armenia would be independent; (9)

and cession to Great Britain and France of all the Arabic-speaking

portions of the empire.

Certain details were left to direct negotiations between Italy and

Greece; and these led to the signing of three agreements by Premiers

Nitti and Venizelos, the first of which antedated by several months

the San Remo Conference. Italy promised to (1) concede Greek claims in

Thrace in return for withdrawal of Greek claims to the plain of the

Mæander River in Asia Minor; (2) hand over Northern Epirus to Greece;

and (3) surrender all the islands of the Dodecanese to Greece, except

Rhodes, for which a plebiscite was to be held after a stipulated number

of years.

The Turks gained only two points: the retention of sovereignty over

Constantinople, because of the intervention of Indian Mohammedans; and

the return of Cilicia, the claim to which was waived by France because

she was not strong enough militarily to hold it.

In the disposition of the Arabic-speaking portions of the Ottoman

Empire the Treaty of Sèvres clearly and specifically violated Article

XXII of the League of Nations Covenant. Palestine was made a “Jewish

national home” under the protection of Great Britain, and the rest of

the loot was divided in utmost secrecy. The premiers had consulted

neither their own parliaments nor the representatives of the races

whose land they were cutting up.

The Treaty of Sèvres was not signed until August 10, 1920, and was

already discredited long before the ceremony of the signature. Both

Premiers Millerand and Nitti had spoken openly against the treaty. The

latter said that Italy would contribute no troops to enforce it, and

doubted the possibility of getting it signed by men who represented the

Turkish nation.

The Treaty of Sèvres was declared null and void by Syrians and

Palestinians, who appealed to the League of Nations. The Arabic press

sustained the thesis that the three premiers were without competency

to decide the destinies of the Arabic-speaking world. They were

cosignatories of the Treaty of Versailles with the delegates of the

free and independent Hedjaz, and were bound by the Covenant to let the

League appoint the mandatory powers after the liberated races had been

consulted. Unless the creation of the Hedjaz was an expedient later to

be disavowed and the League of Nations a cloak for imperialism, the San

Remo Conference was as high-handed and illegal as it was impolitic. The

Hedjaz was the logical state to consult about the future of Palestine,

Syria, and Mesopotamia because of geographical proximity, ethnological

and religious affinity, and economic interest. Why was not the Hedjaz

as vitally interested in these Arabic-speaking neighboring regions as

was Great Britain in Ireland?

The Entente premiers at San Remo concluded a secret agreement

concerning spheres of influence and oil interests in the territories

affected by the Treaty of Sèvres, which, when news of it leaked out,

raised an outcry, especially in the United States. The State Department

made a strong protest against the assumption on the part of the three

Entente Powers of the right to regard the Ottoman mandates as exclusive

monopolies. This was according to neither the text nor the spirit of

the Peace Conference agreements, embodied in the Covenant.

Premier Nitti had been right in his prophecy at San Remo that

representative Turks could not be found to sign the treaty. The Turkish

delegation at Sèvres represented only a Constantinople Government

in captivity to the Entente Powers. There was a day of mourning

at Constantinople in protest against the treaty. But the Turkish

Nationalists issued a defiance from Angora, declaring that the Turks

would not be bound by the signature. Behind them stood not only Soviet

Russia, which had refused to recognize the four preceding treaties,

but also France and Italy, who had begun to fear that the Greeks were

agents of the British, and that the scheme of demilitarizing the

Straits would mean their control by the dominant sea-power.

The Treaty of Sèvres was not ratified. Its sole hope of success

depended upon the Greek army. In the end it was going to be seen that

force would save Turkey from partition, as it saved Albania, and that,

in the chaos and anarchy and slaughter ahead, the League of Nations was

going to make no effort to settle the Near Eastern question.

Europe Since 1918 · 第 9 / 30 章