ENVER PASHA DISCUSSES THE ARMENIANS
All this time I was bringing pressure upon Enver also. The Minister of
War, as I have already indicated, was a different type of man from
Talaat. He concealed his real feelings much more successfully; he was
usually suave, cold-blooded, and scrupulously polite. And at first he
was by no means so callous as Talaat in discussing the Armenians. He
dismissed the early stories as wild exaggerations, declared that the
troubles at Van were merely ordinary warfare, and attempted to quiet my
fears that the wholesale annihilation of the Armenians had been decided
on. Yet all the time that Enver was attempting to deceive me he was
making open admissions to other people--a fact of which I was aware. In
particular, he made no attempt to conceal the real situation from Dr.
Lepsius, a representative of German missionary interests. Dr. Lepsius
was a high-minded Christian gentleman. He had been all through the
Armenian massacres of 1895, and he had raised considerable sums of money
to build orphanages for Armenian children who had lost their parents at
that time. He came again in 1915 to investigate the Armenian situation
on behalf of German missionary interests. He asked for the privilege of
inspecting the reports of American Consuls, and I granted it. These
documents, supplemented by other information which Dr. Lepsius derived
largely from German missionaries in the interior, left no doubt in his
mind as to the policy of the Turks. His feelings were aroused chiefly
against his own Government. He expressed to me the humiliation which he
felt, as a German, that the Turks should deliberately set about to
exterminate their Christian subjects while Germany, ostensibly a
Christian country, was making no endeavours to prevent it. To him Enver
scarcely concealed the official purpose. Dr. Lepsius was simply
staggered by his frankness, for Enver told him in so many words that
they at last had an opportunity to rid themselves of the Armenians and
that they proposed to use it.
By this time Enver had become more frank with me--the circumstantial
reports which I possessed made it useless for him to attempt to conceal
the true situation further--and we had many long and animated
discussions on the subject. One of these I recall with particular
vividness. I notified Enver that I intended to take up the matter in
detail, and he laid aside enough time to go over the whole situation.
“The Armenians had a fair warning,” Enver began, “of what would happen
to them in case they joined our enemies. Three months ago I sent for the
Armenian Patriarch and told him that if the Armenians attempted to start
a revolution, or to assist the Russians, I would be unable to prevent
mischief from happening to them. My warning produced no effect, and the
Armenians started a revolution and helped the Russians. You know what
happened at Van. They obtained control of the city, used bombs against
Government buildings, and killed a large number of Moslems. We knew that
they were planning uprisings in other places. You must understand that
we are now fighting for our lives at the Dardanelles, and that we are
sacrificing thousands of men. While we are engaged in such a struggle as
this we cannot permit people in our own country to attack us in the
back. We have got to prevent this, no matter what means we have to
resort to. It is absolutely true that I am not opposed to the Armenians
as a people. I have the greatest admiration for their intelligence and
industry, and I should like nothing better than to see them become a
real part of our nation. But if they ally themselves with our enemies,
as they did in the Van district, they will have to be destroyed. I have
taken pains to see that no injustice is done; only recently I gave
orders to have three Armenians who had been deported returned to their
homes when I found that they were innocent. Russia, France, Great
Britain and America are doing the Armenians no kindness by sympathising
with and encouraging them. I know what such encouragement means to a
people who are inclined to revolution. When our Union and Progress Party
attacked Abdul Hamid we received all our moral encouragement from the
outside world. This encouragement was of great help to us and had much
to do with our success. It might similarly now help the Armenians and
their revolutionary programme. I am sure that if these outside countries
did not encourage them they would give up their efforts to oppose the
present Government and become law-abiding citizens. We now have this
country in our absolute control, and we can easily revenge ourselves on
any revolutionists.”
“After all,” I said, “suppose what you say is true, why not punish the
guilty? Why sacrifice a whole race for the alleged crimes of
individuals?”
“Your point is all right during peace times,” replied Enver. “We can
then use Platonic means to quiet Armenians and Greeks; but in time of
war we cannot investigate and negotiate. We must act promptly and with
determination. I also think that the Armenians are making a mistake in
depending upon the Russians. The Russians really would rather see them
killed than alive. They are as great a danger to the Russians as they
are to us. If they should form an independent government in Turkey, the
Armenians in Russia would attempt to form an independent government
there. The Armenians have also been guilty of massacres. In the entire
district around Van only 30,000 Turks escaped; all the rest were
murdered by the Armenians and Kurds. I attempted to protect the
non-combatants at the Caucasus; I gave orders that they should not be
injured, but I found that, the situation was beyond my control. There
are about 70,000 Armenians in Constantinople, and they will not be
molested, except those who are Dashnaguists and those who are plotting
against the Turks. However, I think you can ease your mind on the whole
subject, as there will be no more massacres of Armenians.”
I did not take seriously Enver’s concluding statement. At the time that
he was speaking massacres and deportations were taking place all over
the Armenian provinces, and they went on almost without interruption for
several months.
As soon as the reports reached the United States the question of relief
became a pressing one. In the latter part of July I heard that there
were 5,000 Armenians from Zeitoun and Sultanie who were receiving no
food whatever. I spoke about them to Enver, who positively declared that
they would receive proper food. He did not receive favourably any
suggestion that American representatives should go to that part of the
country and assist and care for the exiles.
“For any American to do this,” he said, “would encourage all Armenians
and make further trouble. There are about 28,000,000 people in Turkey,
and 1,000,000 Armenians, and we do not propose to have 1,000,000 disturb
the peace of the rest of the population. The great trouble with the
Armenians is that they are separatists. They are determined to have a
kingdom of their own, and they have allowed themselves to be fooled by
the Russians. Because they have relied upon the friendship of the
Russians they have helped them in this war. We are determined that they
behave just as Turks do. You must remember that when we started this
revolution in Turkey there were only 200 of us. With these few followers
we were able to deceive the Sultan and the public, who thought that we
were immensely more numerous and powerful than we were. We really
prevailed upon him and the public through our sheer audacity, and in
this way established the Constitution. It is our own experience at
revolution which makes us fear the Armenians. If 200 Turks could
overturn the Government, then a few hundred bright, educated Armenians
could do the same thing. We have therefore deliberately adopted the plan
of scattering them so that they can do us no harm. As I told you once
before, I warned the Armenian Patriarch that if the Armenians attacked
us while we were engaged in a foreign war we Turks would hit back, and
that we should hit back indiscriminately.”
Enver always resented any suggestion that American missionaries or other
friends of the Armenians should go to help or comfort them.
“They show altogether too much sympathy for them,” he said over and over
again.
I had suggested that particular Americans should go to Tarsus and
Marsovan.
“If they should go there, I am afraid that the local people in those
cities would become angry, and they would be inclined to start some
disturbance which might create an incident. It is better for the
Armenians themselves, therefore, that the American missionaries should
keep away from them.”
“But you are ruining the country economically,” I said at another time,
making the same point that I had made to Talaat. And he answered it in
almost the same words, thus showing that the subject had been completely
canvassed by the ruling powers.
“Economic considerations are of no importance at this time. The only
important thing is to win. That’s the only thing we have on our mind. If
we win, everything will be all right; if we lose, everything will be all
wrong, anyhow. Our situation is desperate, I admit it, and we are
fighting as desperate men fight. We are not going to let the Armenians
attack us in the rear.”
The question of relief to the starving Armenians became every week a
move pressing one. Enver still insisted that Americans should keep away
from the Armenian provinces.
“How can we furnish bread to the Armenians,” Enver declared, “when we
can’t get it for our own people? I know that they are suffering and that
it is quite likely that they cannot get bread at all this coming winter.
But we have the utmost difficulty in getting flour and clothing right
here in Constantinople.”
I said that I had the money and that American missionaries were anxious
to go and use it for the benefit of the refugees.
“We don’t want the Americans to feed the Armenians,” he flatly replied.
“That is one of the worst things that could happen to them. I have
already said that it is their belief that they have friends in other
countries, which leads them to oppose the Government and so brings down
upon them all their miseries. If you Americans begin to distribute food
and clothing among them, they will then think that they have powerful
friends in the United States. This wall encourage them to rebellion
again, and then we shall have to punish them still more. If you will
give such money as you have received to the Turks, we shall see that it
is used for the benefit of the Armenians.”
Enver made this proposal with a straight face, and he made it not only
on this occasion but on several others. At the very moment that Enver
suggested this mechanism of relief, the Turkish gendarmes and the
Turkish officials were not only robbing the Armenians of all their
household possessions, of all their food and all their money, but they
were even stripping women of their last shreds of clothing and prodding
their naked bodies with bayonets as they staggered across the burning
desert. And the Minister of War now proposed that we give our American
money to these same guardians of the law for distribution among their
charges! However, I had to be tactful.
“If you or other heads of the Government would become personally
responsible for the distribution,” I said, “of course we would be glad
to entrust the money to you. But, naturally, you would not expect us to
give this money to the men who have been killing the Armenians and
outraging their women.”
But Enver returned to his main point.
“They must never know,” he said, “that they have a friend in the United
States. That would absolutely ruin them! It is far better that they
starve, and in saying this I am really thinking of the welfare of the
Armenians themselves. If they can only be convinced that they have no
friends in other countries, then they will settle down, recognise that
Turkey is their only refuge, and become quiet citizens. Your country is
doing them no kindness by constantly showing your sympathy. You are
merely drawing upon them greater hardships.”
In other words, the more money which the Americans sent to feed the
Armenians, the more Armenians Turkey intended to massacre! Enver’s logic
was fairly maddening; yet he did relent at the end and permit me to help
the sufferers through certain missionaries. In all our discussions he
made this hypocritical plea that he was really a friend of this
distracted nation, and that even the severity of the measures which he
had adopted was mercy in disguise. Since Enver always asserted that he
wished to treat the Armenians with justice--in this his attitude to me
was quite different from that of Talaat, who openly acknowledged his
determination to deport them--I went to the pains of preparing an
elaborate plan for bettering their condition. I suggested that if he
wished to be just he should protect the innocent refugees and lessen the
suffering as much as possible, and that for that purpose he should
appoint a special Committee of Armenians to assist him, and send a
capable Armenian, such as Oskan Effendi, formerly Minister of Posts and
Telegraphs, to study conditions and submit suggestions for remedying the
existing evils. Enver did not approve either of my proposals; as to the
first, he said that his colleagues would misunderstand it, and, as to
Oskan, he said that he admired him for his good work while he had been
in the Cabinet and had backed him in his severity toward the inefficient
officials, yet he could not trust him because he was a member of the
Armenian Dashuaguist Society.
In another talk with Enver I began by suggesting that the Central
Government was probably not to blame for the massacres. I thought that
this would not be displeasing to him.
“Of course, I know that the Cabinet would never order such terrible
things as have taken place,” I said. “You and Talaat and the rest of the
Committee can hardly be held responsible. Undoubtedly your subordinates
have gone much further than you have ever intended. I realise that it is
not always easy to control your underlings.”
Enver straightened up at once. I saw that my remarks, far from smoothing
the way to a quiet and friendly discussion, had greatly offended him. I
had intimated that things could happen in Turkey for which he and his
associates were not responsible.
“You are greatly mistaken,” he said, “we have this country absolutely
under our control. I have no desire to shift the blame on our underlings
and I am entirely willing to accept the responsibility myself for
everything that has taken place. The Cabinet itself has ordered the
deportations. I am convinced that we are completely justified in doing
this owing to the hostile attitude of the Armenians toward the Ottoman
Government, but we are the real rulers of Turkey and no underling would
dare proceed in a matter of this kind without our orders.”
Enver tried to mitigate the barbarity of his general attitude by showing
mercy in particular instances. I made no progress in my efforts to stop
the programme of wholesale massacre, but I did save a few Armenians from
death. One day I received word from the American Consul at Smyrna that
seven Armenians had been sentenced to be hanged. These men had been
accused of committing some rather vague political offence in 1909, yet
neither Rahmi Bey, the Governor-General of Smyrna, nor the Military
Commander believed that they were guilty. When the order for execution
reached Smyrna these authorities wired Constantinople that under the
Ottoman law the accused had the right to appeal for clemency to the
Sultan. The answer which was returned to this communication well
illustrated the extent to which the rights of the Armenians were
regarded at that time:
“Technically you are right; hang them first and send the petition for
pardon afterward.”
I visited Enver in the interest of these men on Bairam, which is the
greatest Mohammedan religious festival; it is the day that succeeds
Ramazan, their month of fasting. Bairam has one feature in common with
Christmas, for on that day it is customary for Mohammedans to exchange
small presents, usually sweets. So after the usual remarks of
felicitation, I said to Enver:
“To-day is Bairam and you haven’t given me any present yet.”
Enver laughed.
“What do you want? Shall I send you a box of candies?”
“Oh no,” I answered, “I am not so cheap as that. I want the pardon of
the seven Armenians whom the court-martial has condemned at Smyrna.”
The proposition apparently struck Enver as very amusing.
“That’s a funny way of asking for a pardon,” he said. “However, since
you put it that way, I can’t refuse.”
He immediately sent for his aide and telegraphed to Smyrna, setting the
men free.
Thus fortuitously is justice administered and decision involving human
lives made in Turkey! Nothing could make clearer the slight estimation
in which the Turks hold life, and the slight extent to which principle
controls their conduct. Enver spared these men not because he had the
slightest interest in their cases, but simply as a personal favour to me
and largely because of the whimsical manner in which I had asked it! In
all my talks on the Armenians the Minister of War treated the whole
matter more or less casually; he could discuss the fate of a race in a
parenthesis and refer to the massacre of children as nonchalantly as we
would speak of the weather.
One day Enver asked me to ride with him in the Belgrade forest. As I
was losing no opportunities to influence him, I accepted this
invitation. We motored to Buyukdere, where four attendants with horses
met us. In our ride through the beautiful forest Enver became rather
more communicative in his conversation than ever before. He spoke
affectionately of his father and mother. When they were married, he
said, his father had been sixteen and his mother only eleven, and he
himself had been born when his mother was fifteen. In talking of his
wife, the Imperial Princess, he disclosed a much softer side to his
nature than I had hitherto seen. He spoke of the dignity with which she
graced his home, regretted that Mohammedan ideas of propriety prohibited
her from entering social life, but expressed a wish that she and Mrs.
Morgenthau could meet. He was then furnishing a beautiful new palace on
the Bosphorus; when this was finished, he said, the Princess would
invite my wife to breakfast. Just then we were passing the house and
grounds of Senator Abraham Pasha, a very rich Armenian. This man had
been an intimate friend of the Sultan Abdul Aziz, and, since in Turkey a
man inherits his father’s friends as well as his property, the Crown
Prince of Turkey, a son of Abdul Aziz, made weekly visits to this
distinguished Senator. As we passed through the park, Enver noticed with
disgust that woodmen were cutting down trees, and stopped them. When I
heard afterward that the Minister of War had bought this park I
understood one of the reasons for his anger. Since Abraham Pasha was an
Armenian, this gave me an opportunity to open the subject again.
I spoke to him of the terrible treatment from which the Armenian women
were suffering.
“You said that you wanted to protect women and children,” I remarked,
“but I know that your orders are not being carried out.”
“Those stories can’t be true,” he said, “I cannot conceive that a
Turkish soldier would ill-treat a woman with child.”
Perhaps, if Enver could have read the circumstantial reports which were
then lying in the archives of the American Embassy, he might have
changed his mind.
Shifting the conversation once more, he asked me about my saddle, which
was the well-known “General McClellan” type. Enver tried it, and liked
it so much that he afterwards borrowed it, had one made for his own
use--even including the number in one corner--and he adopted it for one
of his regiments. He told me of the railroads which he was then building
in Palestine, said how well the Cabinet was working, and pointed out
that there were great opportunities in Turkey now for real estate
speculation. He even suggested that he and I join hands in buying land
that was sure to rise in value! But I insisted in talking about the
Armenians. However, I made no more progress than before.
“We shall not permit them to cluster in places where they can plot
mischief and help our enemies. So we are going to give them new
quarters.”
This ride was so successful from Enver’s point of view that we took
another a few days afterward, and this time Talaat and Dr. Gates, the
President of Robert College, accompanied us. Enver and I rode ahead,
while our companions brought up the rear. These Turkish officials are
exceedingly jealous of their prerogatives, and, since the Minister of
War is the ranking member of the Cabinet, Enver insisted on keeping a
decorous interval between ourselves and the other pair of horsemen! I
was somewhat amused by this, for I knew that Talaat was the more
powerful politician; yet he accepted the discrimination, and only once
did he permit his horse to pass Enver and myself. At this violation of
the proprieties, Enver showed his displeasure, whereat Talaat paused,
reined up his horse, and passed submissively to the rear.
“I was merely showing Dr. Gates the gait of my horse,” he said, with an
apologetic air.
But I was interested in more important matters than such fine
distinction in official etiquette; I was determined to talk about the
Armenians. But again I failed to make any progress.
Enver found more interesting discussions.
He began to talk of his horses, and now another incident illustrated the
mercurial quality of the Turkish mind--the readiness with which a Turk
passes from acts of monstrous criminality to acts of individual
kindness. Enver said that the horse-races would take place soon and
regretted that he had no jockey.
“I’ll give you an English jockey,” I said. “Will you make a bargain? He
is a prisoner of war; if he wins will you give him his freedom?”
“I’ll do it,” said Enver.
This man, whose name was Fields, actually entered the races as Enver’s
jockey, and came in third. He rode for his freedom, as Mr. Philip said!
Since he did not come in first, the Minister was not obliged, by the
terms of his agreement, to let him return to England, but Enver
stretched a point and gave him his liberty.
On this same ride Enver gave me an exhibition of his skill as a
marksman.
At one point in the road I suddenly heard a pistol-shot ring out in the
air. It was Enver’s aide practising on a near-by object. Suddenly Enver
reined up his horse, whipped out his revolver, and, thrusting his arm
out rigidly and horizontally, he took aim.
“Do you see that twig on that tree?” he asked me. It was about thirty
feet away.
When I nodded, Enver fired--and the twig dropped to the ground.
The rapidity with which Enver could whip his weapon out of his pocket,
aim, and shoot gave me one convincing explanation for the influence
which he exercised with the piratical crew that was then ruling Turkey.
There were plenty of stories floating around that Enver did not hesitate
to use this method of suasion at certain critical moments of his career;
how true they were I do not know, but I can certainly testify concerning
the high character of his marksmanship.
Talaat also began to amuse himself in the same way, and finally the two
statesmen dismounted, began shooting in competition and behaving as
gaily and as care-free as boys let out of school.
“Have you one of your cards with you?” asked Enver. He requested that I
pin it to a tree which stood about fifty feet away.
Enver then fired first. His hand was steady; his eye went straight to
the mark, and the bullet hit the card directly in the centre. This
success rather nettled Talaat. He took aim, but his rough hand and wrist
shook slightly--he was not an athlete like his younger, wiry, and
straight-backed associate. Several times Talaat hit around the edges of
the card, but he could not duplicate Enver’s skill.
“If it had been a man I was firing at,” said the bulky Turk, jumping on
his horse again, “I would have hit him several times.”
So ended my attempts to interest the two most powerful Turks of their
day in the destruction of one of the most valuable elements in their
Empire!
I have already said that Saïd Halim, the Grand Vizier, was not an
influential personage. Nominally his office was the most important in
the Empire; actually the Grand Vizier was a mere place-warmer, and
Talaat and Enver controlled the present incumbent precisely as they
controlled the Sultan himself. Technically, the Ambassadors should have
conducted their negotiations with Saïd Halim, for he was Minister for
Foreign Affairs. I early discovered, however, that nothing could be
accomplished this way, and, though I still made my Monday calls as a
matter of courtesy, I preferred to deal directly with the men who had
the real power to decide all matters. In order that I might not be
accused of neglecting any means of influencing the Ottoman Government, I
brought the Armenian question several times to the Grand Vizier’s
attention. As he was not a Turk, but an Egyptian, and a man of education
and breeding, it seemed not unlikely that he might have a somewhat
different attitude toward the subject peoples. But I was wrong. The
Grand Vizier was just as hostile to the Armenians as Talaat and Enver. I
soon found that merely mentioning the subject irritated him greatly.
Evidently he did not care to have his elegant ease interfered with by
such disagreeable and unimportant subjects. The Grand Vizier showed his
attitude when the Greek Chargé d’Affaires spoke to him about the
persecutions of the Greeks. Saïd Halim said that such manifestations did
the Greeks more harm than good.
“We shall do with them just the opposite from what we are asked to do,”
said the Grand Vizier.
To my appeals the nominal chief Minister was hardly more statesmanlike.
I had the disagreeable task of sending him, on behalf of the British,
French, and Russian Governments, a notification that these Powers would
hold personally responsible for the Armenian atrocities the men who were
then directing Ottoman affairs. This meant, of course, that in the event
of Allied success, they would treat the Grand Vizier, Talaat, Enver,
Djemal, and their companions as ordinary murderers. As I came into the
room to discuss this somewhat embarrassing message to this member of the
royal house of Egypt, he sat there, as usual, nervously fingering his
beads, and not in a particularly genial frame of mind. He at once spoke
of this telegram, his face flushed with anger, and he began a long
diatribe against, the whole Armenian race. He declared that the Armenian
“rebels” killed 120,000 Turks at Van. This and other of his statements
were so absurd that I found myself spiritedly defending the persecuted
race, and this aroused the Grand Vizier’s wrath still further, and,
switching from the Armenians, he began to abuse my own country, making
the usual charges that our sympathy with the Armenians was largely
responsible for all their troubles.
Soon after this interview Saïd Halim ceased to be Minister for Foreign
Affairs. His successor was Halil Bey, who for some years had been
Speaker of the Turkish Parliament. Halil was a very different type of
man. He was much more tactful, much more intelligent, and much more
influential in Turkish affairs. He was also a smooth and oily
conversationalist, good-natured and fat, and by no means so lost to all
decent sentiments as most Turkish politicians of the time. It was
generally reported that Halil did not approve the Armenian proceedings,
yet his official position compelled him to accept them, and even, as I
now discovered, to defend them. Soon after obtaining his Cabinet post,
Halil called upon me and made a somewhat rambling explanation of the
Armenian atrocities. I had already had experiences with several official
attitudes toward the persecutions; Talaat had been bloodthirsty and
ferocious, Enver subtly calculating, while the Grand Vizier had been
testy. Halil now regarded the elimination of this race with the utmost
good humour. Not a single aspect of the proceeding, not even the
unkindest things I could say concerning it, disturbed his equanimity in
the least. He began by admitting that nothing could palliate these
massacres, but, he added, in order to understand them, there were
certain facts that I should keep in mind.
“I agree that the Government has made serious mistakes in the treatment
of the Armenians,” said Halil, “but the harm has already been done. What
can we do about it now? Still, if there are any errors we can correct,
we should correct them. I deplore as much as you the excesses and
violations which have been committed. I wish to present to you the view
of the Sublime Porte. I admit that this is no justification, but I think
there are extenuating circumstances that you should take into
consideration before judgment is passed upon the Ottoman Government.”
And then, like all the others, he went back to the happenings at Van,
the desire of the Armenians for independence, and the help which they
had given the Russians. I had heard it all many times before.
“I told Vartkes” (an Armenian deputy who, like many, other Armenian
leaders, was afterwards murdered) “that, if his people really aspired to
an independent existence, they should wait for a propitious moment.
Perhaps the Russians might defeat the Turkish troops and occupy all the
Armenian provinces. Then I could understand that the Armenians might
want to set up for themselves. Why not wait, I told Vartkes, until such
a fortunate time had arrived? I warned him that we would not let the
Armenians jump on our backs, and that, if they did engage in hostile
acts against our troops, we would dispose of all Armenians who were in
the rear of our army, and that our method would be to send them to a
safe distance in the south. Enver, as you know, gave a similar warning
to the Armenian Patriarch. But, in spite of these friendly warnings,
they started a revolution.”
I asked about methods of relief, and told him that already twenty
thousand pounds ($100,000) had reached me from America.
“It is the business of the Ottoman Government,” he blandly answered, “to
see that these people are settled, housed and fed until they can support
themselves. The Government will naturally do its duty! Besides, the
twenty thousand pounds that you have is in reality nothing at all.”
“That is true,” I answered, “it is only a beginning, but I am sure that
I can get all the money we need.”
“It is the opinion of Enver Pasha,” he replied, “that no foreigners
should help the Armenians. I do not say that his reasons are right or
wrong. I merely give them to you as they are. Enver says that the
Armenians are idealists, and that the moment foreigners approach and
help them they will be encouraged in their national aspirations. He is
utterly determined to cut for ever all relations between the Armenians
and foreigners.”
“Is this Enver’s way of stopping any further action on their part?” I
asked.
Halil smiled most good-naturedly at this somewhat pointed question, and
answered:
“The Armenians have no further means of action whatever!”
Since not far from 500,000 Armenians had been killed by this time,
Halil’s genial retort certainly had one virtue which most of his other
statements in this interview had lacked--it was the truth.
“How many Armenians in the southern provinces are in need of help?” I
asked.
“I do not know; I would not give you even an approximate figure.”
“Are there several hundred thousand?”
“I should think so,” Halil admitted, “but I cannot say how many hundred
thousand.
“A great many suffered,” he added, “simply because Enver could not spare
troops to defend them. Some regular troops did accompany them and these
behaved very well; forty even lost their lives defending the Armenians.
But we had to withdraw most of the gendarmes for service in the Army and
put in a new lot to accompany the Armenians. It is true that these
gendarmes committed many deplorable excesses.”
“A great many Turks do not approve these measures,” I said.
“I do not deny it,” replied the ever-accommodating Halil, as he bowed
himself out.
Enver, Halil, and the rest were ever insistent on the point which they
constantly raised, that no foreigners should furnish relief to the
Armenians. A few days after this visit the Under-Secretary of State
called at the American Embassy. He came to deliver a message from Djemal
to Enver. Djemal, who then had jurisdiction over the Christians in
Syria, was much annoyed at the interest which the American Consuls were
displaying in the Armenians. He now asked me to order these officials
“to stop busying themselves in Armenian affairs.” Djemal could not
distinguish between the innocent and the guilty, this messenger said,
and so had to punish them all! Some time afterward Halil complained to
me that the American Consuls were sending facts about the Armenians to
America and that the Government insisted that they should be stopped.
As a matter of fact, I was myself sending most of this information, and
I did not stop.