Thus Germany's economic activity in Turkey has been not for prosperity

but for power, not for peace but for war. In developing Turkey, Germany

is simply developing the "Central Europe" scheme of a military combine

self-contained economically and challenging the world in arms[29].

Germany is concerned with Turkey, not for her splendid past and future,

but for her miserable present; for Turkey--as she is, and only as she

is--is a vital chequer on the chess-board where Germany has been playing

her game of world power, or "des staatlich-machtlichen Interessens," as

Dr. Wiedenfeld would say. Therefore Germany does not eye the lands and

peoples under Ottoman dominion with a view to their common advantage and

her own. She selects a "piece" among them which she can keep under her

thumb and so control the square. Abd-ul-Hamid was her first pawn, and

when the Young Turk Party swept him off the board she adopted them and

their colour[30]; for by hook or by crook, through this agency or that,

Turkey had to be commanded or Germany's play was spoilt.

Germany's control over Turkey depends upon the maintenance of a corrupt

minority in power--too weak and corrupt to remain in it without

Germany's guarantee, and corrupt enough, when secured in it, to put it

at Germany's disposal. A free hand at home in return for servitude in

diplomacy and war--the deal is called "Hegemony," and is as old as

Ancient Greece. By her hegemony over the Ottoman Government Germany

threatens the British and Russian Empires from all the Ottoman

frontiers; and with the free hand that is their price the Young Turks

inflict on all lands and peoples within those frontiers whatever evils

conduce to the maintenance of their pretensions.

As Rohrbach and Wiedenfeld point out, this political understanding

underlies all Germany's economic efforts in Western Asia, and we can see

how it has warped them from their proper ends. The track of the Bagdad

Railway, for example, has not been selected in the economic interests of

the lands and peoples which it ostensibly serves. Dr. Rohrbach himself

admits that

"The Anatolian section of the Bagdad Railway cannot be described as

properly paying its way. It is otherwise with the" (French) "line from

Smyrna to Afiun Kara Hissar, which links the Anatolian Railway with the

older railway system in the West.... The parts of Asia Minor which were

thickly populated and prosperous in antiquity lie mostly westward of

this first section of the Bagdad Railway, round the river-valleys and"

(French and English) "railways leading down to the Aegean."

"There are other once-flourishing parts of the peninsula," he continues,

"which the Bagdad Railway does not touch at all"--the Vilayet of Sivas

and the other Armenian provinces. The original German plan was to carry

the Railway through Armenia from Angora to Kharput, but Russia not

unnaturally vetoed the construction, so near her Caucasian frontiers, of

a line which, by the nature of the Turco-German understanding, must

primarily serve strategic ends[31], and the track was therefore

deflected to the south-east. This took it through the most barren parts

of Central Anatolia, and in the next section involved the slow and

costly work of tunnelling the Taurus and Amanus mountains.

"If merely economic and not political advantages were taken into

account," Dr. Rohrbach concedes, "the question might perhaps be raised

whether it would not be better to leave the Anatolian section alone

altogether and begin the Bagdad Railway from Seleucia" (on the Syrian

coast). "The future export trade in grain, wool, and cotton will in any

case do all it can to lengthen the cheap sea-passage and shorten

correspondingly the section on which it must pay railway freights. The

fact that the route connecting Bagdad with the Mediterranean coast in

the neighbourhood of Antioch is the oldest, greatest, and still most

promising trade-route of Western Asia is independent of all railway

projects."

It is worth remembering that a railway, following this route from the

Syrian coast to the Persian Gulf, has more than once been projected by

the British Government. As early as the thirties of last century Colonel

Chesney was sent out to examine the ground, and in 1867 the proposal was

considered by a Committee of the House of Commons. For the economic

development of Western Asia it is clearly a better plan, but then Dr.

Rohrbach bases the "necessity for the East Anatolian section of the

Bagdad Railway" on wholly different grounds.

"The necessity," he declares, "consists in Turkey's military interests,

which obviously would be very poorly served" (by German railway

enterprise) "if troops could not be transported by train without a break

from Bagdad and Mosul to the extremity of Anatolia, and _vice versâ_."

The Bagdad Railway is thus acknowledged to be an instrument of strategy

for the Germans and for the Turks of domination--for "_vice versâ_"

means that Turkish troops can be transported at a moment's notice

through the tunnels from Anatolia to enforce the Ottoman pretension over

the Arab lands. Militarily, these tunnels are the most valuable section

of the line; economically, they are the most costly and unremunerative.

And the second (and longer) tunnel could still have been dispensed with,

if, south of Taurus, the track had been led along the Syrian coast.

"Economic interests and considerations of expense," Wiedenfeld

concedes[32], "argued strongly for the latter course, but--fortunately,

as we must admit to-day--the military point of view prevailed." Thus the

Turco-German understanding prevented the Bagdad Railway first from

beginning at a port on the Mediterranean coast, and then from touching

the coast at all[33]. "The spine of Turkey," as German writers are fond

of calling it, distorts the natural articulation of Western Asia.

Nemesis has overtaken the Germans in the Armenian deportations--a

"political end" of Turkish Nationalism which swept away the "economic

means" towards Germany's subtler policy. A month or two before the

outbreak of war Dr. Rohrbach stated, in a public lecture, that

"Germany has an important interest in effecting and maintaining contact

with the Armenian nation. We have set before ourselves the necessary and

legitimate aim of spreading and enrooting German influence in Turkey,

not only by military missions and the construction of railways, but also

by the establishment of intellectual relations, by the work of German

_Kultur_--in a word, by moral conquests; and we are determined, by

pacific means, to reach an amicable understanding with the Turks and the

other nations in the Turkish Empire. Our ulterior object in this is to

strengthen the Turkish Empire internally with the aid of German science,

education, and training, and for this work the Armenians are

indispensable."

A few months later Germany, as part price of Turkey's intervention in

the War, had to leave the Young Turks a "free hand" to exterminate the

nation which was the indispensable instrument of her Turkish policy. On

the 9th August, 1915, the German Ambassador at Constantinople handed in

a formal protest against the deportations, in which his Government

"declined all responsibility for the consequences which might result."

On the 11th January, 1916, in the German Reichstag, the Chief of the

Political Department of the Foreign Office replied to a question from

Dr. Liebknecht that "an exchange of views about the reaction of these

measures upon the population was taking place," and that "further

information could not be given." And while Germany was maintaining this

"correct attitude" before the world, she was assisting in Turkey at the

destruction of her own work.

Even the atrocities of 1909 had damaged the economic prospects of the

Adapa district from which Dr. Rohrbach[34] hoped so much, for

"The first thing the Turkish peasants did was to destroy all the

steam-ploughs and nearly all the threshing machines (there were over a

hundred of them) which the Armenian villagers had imported for the

cultivation of the Civilian plain[35]."

By the atrocities of 1915 the economic life of Western Asia was

completely ruined, and the fruits of German enterprise were swept away

in the flood.

"I have before me," writes our German memorialised, "a list of the

customers of a single Constantinople firm of importers which places its

orders principally in Germany and Austria. The accounts which this firm

has outstanding amount to date to £13,922 (Turkish), owing from 378

customers in 42 towns of the interior. In consequence of the Armenian

deportations these debts are no longer recoverable. The 378 customers,

with all their employees, goods, and assets, have vanished from the face

of the earth. Any of the owners that are still alive are now beggars on

the borders of the Arabian desert."

At Urfa, after the atrocities of 1896, philanthropists of all nations

had founded orphanages and started native industries. Attached to the

German orphanage there was a carpet factory, with dyeing vats and a

spinnery, which Dr. Rohrbach[36], after personal investigation,

describes as "an institution to be welcomed as unreservedly from the

national as from the humanitarian point of view."

"The factory," he remarks, "not only provides work and bread for 400

persons, but has transplanted one of the most profitable and promising

industries of the East into the sphere traversed by the German Railway,

where German interests are predominant."

He prophesies that the whole carpet industry of Western Asia, "from

which English and other foreign firms in Smyrna now draw such enormous

profits," will soon be concentrated round Urfa in German hands. From

Armenia's evil, apparently, springs Germany's good--but in 1911 Dr.

Rohrbach did not foresee the catastrophe of 1915.

"For the rise of the carpet industry," our German memorialised writes,

"Turkey has to thank capitalists and exporters who are almost all

Armenians, Greeks, Jews, or Europeans. Like the cotton cultivation

introduced by Germany into Cilicia, this carpet industry, in the eastern

provinces, has been deprived of the hands essential to it by the

Armenian deportations."

Eye-witnesses at Urfa describe how the Armenian community there was

massacred in 1915--the third time in twenty years, and this time to

extinction--and it points the irony of the situation that the Turkish

guns were served by German artillerymen[37].

"I have nothing to say," writes Dr. Niepage, the German teacher from

Aleppo, "about the opinion of the German officers in Turkey. I often

noticed among them an ominous silence or a convulsive effort to change

the subject, when any German of warm feelings and independent judgment

talked in their presence of the fearful sufferings of the Armenians."

This moral bankruptcy is more fatal to the future of Germany in Western

Asia than all the material havoc which the Armenian deportations have

caused. For Dr. Niepage is convinced that the blood of the Armenians

will be on Germany's head:

"'The teaching of the Germans,' is the simple Turk's explanation, ...

and more sensitive Mohammedans, Turks and Arabs alike, cannot believe

that their own Government has ordered these horrors. They lay all

excesses at the Germans' door, for the Germans, during the War, are

regarded as Turkey's schoolmasters in everything. The mollahs declare in

the mosques that the German officers, and not the Sublime Porte, have

ordered the maltreatment and extermination of the Armenians.... Others

say: 'Perhaps the German Government has its hands tied by certain

agreements defining its powers, or perhaps it is not an opportune moment

for intervention.'

"Our presence had no ameliorating effect, and what we could do ourselves

was negligible.... The abusive epithet 'Giaur' is heard once more by

German ears....

"We think it our duty to draw attention to the fact that our educational

work in Turkey forfeits its moral basis and the natives' esteem, if the

German Government is not in a position to prevent the brutalities

inflicted here upon the wives and children of murdered Armenians.

"The writer considers it out of the question that the German Government,

if it seriously desired to stem the tide of destruction in this eleventh

hour, would find it impossible to bring the Turkish Government to

reason....

"If we persist in treating the massacres of Christians as an internal

affair of Turkey, which is only important to us because it ensures us

the Turks' friendship, then we must change the orientation of our German

_Kulturpolitik_. We must stop sending German teachers to Turkey, and we

teachers must give up telling our pupils in Turkey about German poets

and philosophers, German culture and German ideals, to say nothing of

German Christianity.

"Three years ago I was sent by the Foreign Office as higher-grade

teacher to the German Technical School at Aleppo. The Prussian

Provincial School Board at Magdeburg specially enjoined upon me, when I

went out, to show myself worthy of the confidence reposed in me in the

grant of furlough to take up this post. I should not be fulfilling my

duty as a German official and an accredited representative of German

culture, if I consented to keep silence in face of the atrocities of

which I was a witness, or to look on passively while the pupils

entrusted to my charge were driven out into the desert to die of

starvation.

"The things of which everybody here has been a witness for months past

remain as a stain on Germany's shield in the minds of Oriental nations."

What will be left to Germany in Western Asia after the war? She may keep

her trade, though Wiedenfeld confesses that "the exchange of commodities

between Germany and Turkey has never attained any really considerable

dimensions," and that "the German export trade commands no really staple

article whatever of the kind exported by England, Austria, and

Russia"--unless we count as such munitions and other materials of

war[38]. Except for the last item, this German trade will probably

remain and grow; but the German hegemony, based on railway enterprise

and reinsured by "moral conquests," will scarcely survive the Ottoman

dominion.

Happily there are other representatives of culture, other indigenous

nationalities, other possibilities of economic development, which will

remain in Western Asia when the Turk and German have gone, and which

may be equal to repairing the ruin they will leave behind.

For nearly a century now the American Evangelical Missions have been

doing work there which is the greatest conceivable contrast to the

German _Kulturpolitik_ of the last thirty years. A missionary, sent out

to relieve the first pioneers, was given the following instructions by

the American Board:

"The object of our missions to the Oriental Churches is, first, to

revive the knowledge and spirit of the Gospel among them, and, secondly,

by this means to operate upon the Mohammedans.

"The Oriental Churches need assistance from their brethren abroad. Our

object is not to subvert them: you are not sent among those Churches to

proselytise. Let the Armenian remain an Armenian if he will, the Greek a

Greek, the Nestorian a Nestorian, the Oriental an Oriental.

"Your great business is with the fundamental doctrines and duties of the

Gospel[39]."

In this spirit the American missionaries have worked. They have had no

warships behind them, no diplomatic support, no political ambitions, no

economic concessions. As Evangelicals their first step was to translate

the Bible into all the living languages and current scripts of the

Nearer East. For the Bulgars and Armenians this was the beginning of

their modern literature, but the jealousy of the Orthodox and Gregorian

clergy was naturally aroused. Native Protestant Churches formed

themselves--not by the missionaries' initiative but on their own. They

were trained by the missionaries to self-government, and as they spread

from centre to centre they grouped themselves in unions, with annual

meetings to settle their common affairs. The missionaries also

encouraged them to be self-supporting, and in 1908 the contributions of

the Native Churches to the general expenses of the missions were twice

as large as those of the American Board[40]. The Ottoman Government

recognised its Protestant subjects as a religious corporation _(Millet)_

in 1853, and in spite of this the jealousy of the national Churches was

overcome. For the work of the Americans was not confined to the new

Protestant community. The translation of the Bible led them also into

educational work; they laid the foundations of secondary education in

Western Asia, and their schools and colleges--still the only

institutions of their kind--are attended by Gregorians as well as

Protestants, Moslems as well as Christians, Moslem girls as well as

boys. As they opened up remoter districts they added medicine to their

activities, and their hospitals, like their schools, have been the first

in the field. And all this has been built up so unassumingly that its

magnitude is hardly realised by the Americans themselves. In the three

Turkey Missions, which cover Anatolia and Armenia--the whole of Turkey

except the Arab lands--there were, on the eve of the War, 209 American

missionaries with 1,299 native helpers, 163 Protestant churches with

15,348 members, 450 schools with 25,922 pupils; Constantinople College

and 6 other colleges or high schools for girls; Robert College on the

Bosphorus and 9 other colleges for men or boys; and 11 hospitals.

The War, when it came, seemed to sweep away everything. The Protestant

Armenians, in spite of a nominal exemption, were deported and massacred

like their Gregorian fellow-countrymen; the boys and girls were carried

away from the American colleges, the nurses and patients from the

hospitals; the empty buildings were "requisitioned" by the Ottoman

authorities; the missionaries themselves, in their devoted efforts to

save a remnant from destruction, suffered as many casualties from typhus

and physical exhaustion as any proportionate body of workers on the

European battlefields. The Turkish Nationalists congratulated themselves

that the American work in Western Asia was destroyed. In praising a

lecture by a member of the German _Reichstag_, who had declared himself

"opposed to all missionary activities in the Turkish Empire," a

Constantinople newspaper[41] wrote:

"The suppression of the schools founded and directed by ecclesiastical

missions or by individuals belonging to enemy nations is as important a

measure as the abolition of the Capitulations. Thanks to their schools,

foreigners were able to exercise great moral influence over the young

men of the country, and they were virtually in charge of its spiritual

and intellectual guidance. By closing them the Government has put an end

to a situation as humiliating as it was dangerous."

But the missionaries' spirit was something they could not destroy.

"When they deported the Armenians," wrote a missionary, "and left us

without work and without friends, we decided to come home and get our

vacation and be ready to go wherever we could after the War[42]."

After the War the Turks in Anatolia may still be infatuated enough to

banish their best friends, but in Armenia, when the Turk has gone, the

Americans will find more than their former field; for, in one form or

another, Armenia is certain to rise again. The Turks have not succeeded

in exterminating the Armenian nation. Half of it lives in Russia, and

its colonies are scattered over the world from California to Singapore.

Even within the Ottoman frontiers the extermination is not complete, and

the Arabian deserts will yield up their living as well as the memory of

their dead. The relations of Armenia with the Russian democracy should

not be more difficult to settle than those of Finland and Poland; her

frontiers cannot be forecast, but they must include the Six Vilayets--so

often promised reforms by the Concert of Europe and so often abandoned

to the revenges of the Ottoman Government--as well as the Civilian

highlands and some outlet to the sea. One thing is certain, that,

whatever land is restored to them, the Armenians will turn its resources

to good account, for, while their town-dwellers are the merchants and

artisans of Western Asia, 80 per cent., of them are tillers of the soil.

What the Americans have done for Armenia has been done for Syria by the

French[43]. There are half a million Maronite Catholics in Syria, and

since the seventeenth century France has been the protectress of

Catholicism in the Near East. In 1864, when there was trouble in Syria

and the Maronites were being molested by the Ottoman Government, France

landed an army corps and secured autonomy for the Lebanon under a

Christian governor. But French influence is not limited to the Lebanon

province. All over Syria there are French clerical, secular, and Judaic

schools. Beirût and Damascus, Christian and Moslem--for there is more

religious tolerance in Syria than in most Near Eastern countries--are

equally under the spell of French civilisation; and France is the chief

economic power in the land, for French enterprise has built the Syrian

railways. The sufferings of Syria during the War have been described;

the Young Turks have confiscated the railways and deprived the Lebanon

of its autonomy; even Rohrbach deprecates the fact that "only a few of

the higher officials in Syria are chosen from among the natives of the

country, while almost all, from the Kaimakam upwards, are sent out from

Constantinople," and he attributes to this policy "the feeling against

the Turks, which is most acute in Damascus." This is Rohrbach's

periphrasis for Arab Nationalism, which will be master in its own house

when the Turk has been removed. The future status and boundaries of

Syria can no more be forecast than those of Armenia at the present stage

of the War; yet here, too, certain tendencies are clear. In some form or

other Arab Syria will retain her connection with France, and her growing

population will no longer be driven by misgovernment to emigration.

Syrians and Armenians have been emigrating for the last quarter of a

century, and during the same period the Jews, whose birthright in

Western Asia is as ancient as theirs, have been returning to their

native land--not because Ottoman dominion bore less hardly upon them

than upon other gifted races, but because nothing could well be worse

than the conditions they left behind. For these Jewish immigrants came

almost entirely from the Russian Pale, the hearth and hell of modern

Jewry. The movement really began after the assassination of Alexander

II. in 1881, which threw back reform in Russia for thirty-six years. The

Jews were the scapegoats of the reaction. New laws deprived them of

their last civil rights, _pogroms_ of life itself; they came to

Palestine as refugees, and between 1881 and 1914 their numbers there

increased from 25,000 to 120,000 souls.

The most remarkable result of this movement has been the foundation of

flourishing agricultural colonies. Their struggle for existence has been

hard; the pioneers were students or trades-folk of the Ghetto, unused to

outdoor life and ignorant of Near Eastern conditions; Baron Edmund de

Rothschild financed them from 1884 to 1899 at a loss; then they were

taken over by the "Palestine Colonisation Association," which discovered

the secrets of success in self-government and scientific methods.

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