at Paris. These terms proposed to close the Greek pincers about
Constantinople, to cut it off from Asia Minor permanently with a
garrison restricted to 700 men, to isolate the Straits from Asia Minor
by the institution of an International Commission on which Russia and
Turkey would be represented if and when they became members of the
League of Nations, and to place what remained of Turkey in Asia Minor
under the permanent military, economic and financial control of Great
Britain, France and Italy. As for Smyrna, “the city of Smyrna and the
territory in Article 66 will be assimilated, in the application of the
present Treaty, to territory detached from Turkey. The city of Smyrna
and the territory defined in Article 66 remain under Turkish
sovereignty. Turkey however transfers to the Greek Government the
exercise of her rights of sovereignty over the city of Smyrna and the
said territory. In witness of such sovereignty the Turkish flag shall
remain permanently hoisted over an outer fort in the town of Smyrna.
The fort will be designated by the Principal Allied Powers…. The Greek
Government may establish a Customs boundary along the frontier line
defined in Article 66, and may incorporate the city of Smyrna and the
territory defined in the said Article in the Greek customs system….
When a period of five years shall have elapsed after the coming into
force of the present Treaty the local parliament referred to in
Article 72 may, by a majority of votes, ask the Council of the League
of Nations for the definitive incorporation in the Kingdom of Greece
of the city of Smyrna and the territory defined in Article 66. The
Council may require, as a preliminary, a plebiscite under conditions
which it will lay down. In the event of such incorporation as a result
of the application of the foregoing paragraph, the Turkish sovereignty
referred to in Article 69 shall cease. Turkey hereby renounces in that
event in favor of Greece all rights and title over the city of Smyrna
and the territory defined in Article 66.” As for Constantinople, it
remained the Turkish capital, but “in the event of Turkey failing to
observe faithfully the provisions of the present Treaty, or of any
treaties or conventions supplementary thereto, particularly as regards
the protection of the rights of racial, religious or linguistic
minorities, the Allied Powers expressly reserve the right to modify
the above provisions, and Turkey hereby agrees to accept any
dispositions which may be taken in this connection.”
There being no Ottoman Parliament in session, Damad Ferid Pasha
summoned eighty prominent Turks to Yildiz Kiosk to authorize signature
of the peace terms. Permitting no discussion of it, Ferid ordered
those who favored signature to stand and, scenting trouble ahead, he
whispered to the Sultan to stand. Considerations of etiquette bade
every one present stand, but the late “Topdjeh” Riza Pasha broke into
vigorous protest. In a voice trembling with emotion, he told Ferid
that the meeting had risen out of respect to the _Padishah_ and not in
resignation to the peace terms, that the meeting had no power to
authorize their signature and that, even if it had, it could not
authorize their signature as long as Anatolia was in open and armed
revolt against them. Without further ado, Ferid declared the signature
of the peace terms authorized and added audibly that Anatolia could go
to the devil.
So the peace terms were signed by three of Ferid’s appointees (one of
them a teacher in an American college near Constantinople) on August
11 at Sevres in the suburbs of Paris. Sevres is in Christendom and the
year was 1920.
XVII
ANGORA
FEVZI, RAFET AND KIAZIM KARABEKR PASHAS AND THEIR MILITARY
DICTATORSHIP UNDER KEMAL PASHA――THE “PONTUS” DEPORTATIONS――MOSUL, THE
KURDS AND THE SPLIT IN ISLAM――THE FRANCO-ARMENIAN FRONT IN CILICIA,
THE GREEK FRONT BEFORE SMYRNA, AND THE ALLIED FRONT BEFORE
CONSTANTINOPLE――HOW THE BROKEN PARLIAMENT WAS RECONSTRUCTED AT
ANGORA――FERID’S COUNTER-REVOLUTION AT KONIA.
Angora lies tilted up on its hill, a gray blanket of flat roofs
pierced with white minarets and green cypresses, and scarred across
its middle with the ruins of 1915. At its foot lies a shallow marsh
stretching from the town itself to its railway station, a mile and a
half away. Along the rim of the basin up whose southern slope it
sprawls, are the summer villas of its wealthier families, secure above
the hot-weather malaria of the marsh.
The heart of the town lies along its lower fringes. When the Sivas
congress moved the Nationalist Party’s council to Angora late in
September, 1919, Kemal himself took up his abode in an upper room at
the railway station and a Decauville locomotive was kept fired up
night and day beneath his window, in readiness to hurry him farther
into the interior on an instant’s warning. The first building one
passes upon entering the town from the railway station is the gray
granite building once used as the local headquarters of the Committee
of Union and Progress, with a wooden theatre lying in the center of a
garden across the road. Some distance to the left, as one continues
into the town, is the old _konak_, or Government building, where the
provincial administration was formerly housed. Across the square in
front of it, is the Post and Telegraph Office. On the right hand as
the town is entered, a broad street turns off past the theatre and
leads around the foot of the town to the beautiful compound of the
Sultana College. Almost opposite the theatre as one turns into this
road, is a large school building of stone and some distance farther
along is the stone building formerly occupied by the local
administration of the Public Debt. Still farther along, far out in the
outkirts of the town, the blue and white buildings of the Sultana
College stand within the walls of their compound. Here Fevzi Pasha, a
towering Anatolian Turk with drooping moustaches, and Rafet Pasha, a
dapper little figure, were engaged in re-mobilizing and re-equipping
the Army. Fevzi Pasha is a dour giant of a man with a gargantuan
appetite for work and a complete aversion from social intercourse of
any sort. Rafet Pasha has a similar capacity for work but he combines
with it a natural genius for social intercourse. I have seen him in a
number of widely varying settings, from his quarters in the Sultana
College to the mountain passes of Anatolia in the dead of winter, but
he is invariably as immaculate both in manner and appearance as if he
had just stepped out of a drawing room.
Under Mustapha Kemal Pasha, Fevzi Pasha and Rafet Pasha ruled Anatolia
for the Nationalists, their authority reaching down into the provinces
through military governors whom they assigned to the more critical
provincial capitals. Kiazim Karabekr Pasha who held the eastern
provinces from Erzerum, ought to be mentioned with them. It had been
easy enough to take over Anatolia from the Damad Ferid Government, for
the Greek occupation of Smyrna undermined Ferid’s hold on the country
at a stroke, but to hold Anatolia against Ferid’s efforts to recover
it was quite another matter. Fevzi, Rafet and Kiazim were the men who
held it, and whatever traditions of personal advantage they inherited
from the old Ottoman Government, their personal ambitions were sunk in
the common cause of defending the remnant of the country. I believe
firmly that this statement holds true of Kemal as well. My impression
of him is that he would have joined one of his own labor battalions
and dug roads behind his own Army if he thought that by so doing he
would be able more effectively to contribute to his country’s defense.
These men constituted a small handful of modern Westerners in control
of a vast mediaeval Eastern country, but their task was simplified by
the comparative absence of the Levantinism which had poisoned
Constantinople. Such as their country was, it was as homogeneous as
any between Vienna and Bagdad. There were Turks, Kurds, Circassians,
Turcomans, Tartars and Laz in the country, a few remaining Armenians
in the interior, an increasing number of Greeks between Samsun and
Trebizond along the Black Sea littoral, and a handful of widely
scattered Americans, mostly in the employ of the Near East Relief. The
large majority of its population, however, was Turkish and most of the
non-Turks were bound to the Turks by their acceptance of Islam. The
country, while wholly primitive, was far more single-minded than its
capital had been for a century. Its handful of Americans were soon
represented at Angora by two members of the Near East Relief’s corps,
the late Miss Annie T. Allen and Miss Florence Billings. Most of their
contact was with Rafet Pasha and, despite the serious delicacy of
their position, their relations with Rafet Pasha were generally happy.
The military situation in which the Turks found themselves, was
shortly to be simplified by the brief war which Kiazim Karabekr Pasha
launched from Erzerum against the Armenian Republic of Erivan. This
opened a line of retreat to Trans-Caucasia and Central Asia, and if
Kemal, Fevzi and Rafet Pashas had been forced to drop their archives
into their _kalpaks_ and flee, a back door would have been available
for their escape into the East.
The Pontus project which the Greeks along the Black Sea littoral had
launched, was not so simple to handle. The Greek occupation of Smyrna
eventually made it necessary to transfer the Third Army from Amasia to
the hinterland of Smyrna and the so-called Pontus had to be held with
irregulars under the command of the late Osman Agha, the Laz mayor of
Kerasund. The crude terrorism he wielded proved to be such an ugly
business that Hamid Bey, one of the best men available in Angora, was
dispatched to Samsun as mayor. Hamid Bey is a Rhodes Turk with
up-standing hair, Kaiser-like moustaches, a mouth full of gold and a
booming voice, a combination apt to give one meeting him for the first
time a sense of having met some new species of wild man, but a further
acquaintance with him reveals beneath his surface eccentricities a
character of solid integrity and ripe judgment. He had been a governor
of provinces and the fact that the post of mayor in Samsun was thought
worthy of being filled by an ex-governor may be taken as an indication
of Rafet Pasha’s anxiety to discover some peaceful solution of the
Pontus problem. Osman Agha’s terrorism remained as much of a problem
at Angora as the Greek terrorism which it sought to overcome, but a
solution was finally discovered for it when Osman, having shot down
900 Greeks and Armenians in Marsovan in reprisal for the knifing of
200 Turks by Greek troops at Ismid, marched to Angora to offer himself
and his Laz followers to the Army. He entered Angora as the hero of a
goaded and angry population and Kemal, after permitting him to enjoy
his ovation to the full, incorporated his followers in the Turkish
shock troops with whom they were cut to pieces in the Battle of the
Sakaria River. Thereafter there were no more Marsovans in the
so-called Pontus, but the problem of its Greeks still remained.
There appears to be no doubt that the Pontus program had reached the
status of a definite organization determined on independence, an
organization which was peculiarly difficult to combat by reason of the
fact that any move against it would be disseminated in the Black Books
of the Oecumenical Patriarchate in Constantinople as evidence of
“persecution of the Christians.” Believing that one of the
organization’s centers was a body of Greek students which called
itself the Pontus Literary Society in the American college at
Marsovan, Angora requested Dr. George E. White, president of the
college, to suppress the Society. Possibly forgetting that the country
was in a state of war and nowhere more bitterly so than in Marsovan,
Dr. White refused to suppress the Society. Angora thereupon suppressed
the college, deporting its American teaching staff to the coast whence
they were removed to Constantinople. A number of Greeks were then
arrested in Marsovan on evidence which Angora believed indicated their
activity in the Greek organization; they were removed to Angora,
placed on trial before a military court under a charge of treason in
time of war, convicted and hung. But the tumult in the so-called
Pontus still continued. Greek and Turkish irregulars burned each
other’s villages and ambushed each other in the fields. This sort of
thing dragged along until 1922, when Angora, having failed to break up
the Greek organization, deported into the interior the entire Greek
population along the Black Sea, men, women and children alike.
Once these deportations had been ordered at Angora, their execution
was of necessity left to the local police chiefs and the manner of
their execution varied with the temper of the local police chiefs and
the amount of supplies available in each province. Both the police
chiefs and the amounts of supplies available varied widely, and the
treatment of the deportees on the march varied accordingly. The report
which Dr. Mark Ward, the Near East Relief worker who was deported from
Kharput, made to the British Foreign Office in London as well as to
his own Government in Washington, indicates that their sufferings at
Kharput were heavy. Dr. Ward in his report laid the blame for their
sufferings on Angora. Whether, once other methods had failed to break
up the Greek Pontus organization, Angora possessed the means to make
deportation a bearable process for the Greeks, is a question which in
the lack of conclusive evidence must remain unanswered here. It seems
to me more to the point, however, to point out the original guilt of
those who landed the Greeks in Asia Minor without the means of
protecting them there. The “Pontus” episode is not the first in which
Western Powers have permitted the Greeks to expose their own people to
danger in the hope that their sufferings will attract Western
assistance. There are minorities in every country between Vienna and
Bagdad and their exposure to danger constitutes part of the
_technique_ of Balkan statecraft. Greek atrocities at Ismid resulted
in Osman Agha’s reprisals at Marsovan. It is not impossible that that
was the purpose with which Greek atrocities along the Marmora shore
began. Certainly it is difficult to find any other purpose in the
conduct of Greek regular troops. Thus it is that Balkan peoples draw
their new frontiers. Thus it has been for a century and thus
presumably it will continue to be, as long as the West permits.
It seems to me (and I must add in fairness that my knowledge of the
“Pontus” deportations, while gleaned at Angora and the Oecumenical
Patriarchate alike, is purely second-hand) that it is open to question
whether Angora’s deportation of Greek women was justified and whether
it made the fullest use of such scanty supplies as it had in caring
for the deportees on the march. On the other hand, the action of the
British in disembarking the Greeks into the “Pontus” without protest
from the Oecumenical Patriarchate, could only be justified if the
Turks remained helpless and passive. As soon as Nationalism began to
gather strength in the interior, the most elemental sense of humanity
on the part of the British and the Oecumenical Patriarchate should
have prompted negotiations with Angora looking toward the
re-embarkation of the “Pontus” women and the humane internment of the
men.
The deportation of the “Pontus” Greeks and Kiazim Karabekr Pasha’s
victory over the Armenian Republic of Erivan in Trans-Caucasia kept
Angora’s rear open. The British front in the Mosul province of
Mesopotamia has never threatened Angora’s rear, for the mountainous
nature of the country ahead of them has made impossible any further
advance on the part of the British. Here the British have sought to
partition the Kurdish population, leaving its northern half to Angora
and incorporating its southern half in the Arab State of Iraq. Whether
the chiefs of the Kurdish tribes prefer to be under Turkish rule or
under Arab rule or independent under the British aegis, is a question
to which Angora and Bagdad furnish widely varying answers. It seems
probable, however, that Kurdish opinion, such as it is, does not
relish partition and if there are Kurdish deputies at Angora, it is
because the Turks are the only parties to the Mosul controversy who do
not propose to divide the Kurdish country. There is a wider aspect,
however, to the Mosul controversy. Turks and Arabs alike are _Sunni_
Moslems and as long as the British can maintain a controversy over
Mosul between the new Turkish State and the Arab State of Iraq, Islam
remains in a divided condition. It is the desire to abstain from any
action over Mosul which might widen that breach, which has prompted
Djavid Pasha, the Turkish commander at Diarbekr, to refrain from the
use of force in the recovery of Mosul. The _sheikh_ of the Senussi who
girded the late Caliph on his accession to the Throne in 1918, and who
fled from Brussa to Angora when the Greeks entered Smyrna, has been at
Diarbekr for the last three years, attempting to heal the Turco-Arab
breach over Mosul. Thus far, the conduct of the Turkish command on the
Mosul “front” has been marked by a conspicuous restraint.
As Kemal, Fevzi and Rafet Pashas looked toward the West, they were
confronted by three military fronts, the Cilician front on their left,
the Greek front behind Smyrna on their center, and the Allied
occupation of Constantinople on their right. In the winter of
1919-’20, the British high command in Cairo withdrew its forces from
Cilicia in accordance with the secret Sykes-Picot agreement of 1916,
to Palestine, leaving the French command at Beirut in sole occupation
of the northern end of the Syrian corridor and of Cilicia. Here, under
the French aegis in Cilicia, an Armenian enclave was being carved out
and the Turkish administration had withdrawn to Bozanti, a town at the
top of the Taurus Range. The French front extended from the Taurus
east to the Mosul province, but it was in Cilicia that the weight of
the French occupation made itself chiefly felt. The Armenians revenged
the undoubted wrongs which they had suffered under the Ottoman Sultans
in drastic fashion and there were streets even in Adana itself in
which it was not safe for a Turk to show himself after dark. The
Turkish towns outside the rim of the French area, possibly inflamed by
the tales of Turkish refugees from Adana, soon launched a guerilla
warfare against the Franco-Armenian regular troops and began isolating
out-lying garrisons. Much of this was directed by the Turkish
ex-administration at Bozanti, but it was carried on largely by Turkish
irregulars with any following which they could impress into service.
As for the Greek front behind Smyrna, the first defense which was used
was that of the Circassian bandit leader, Edhem, but the Greek command
soon won him over and made a considerable hero of him. This left
Kemal, Fevzi and Rafet Pashas without defense and the skeleton Third
Army which was hastily transferred from Amasia, covering Samsun, to
the Smyrna front was too depleted in strength to offer effective
resistance. Nuri Ismet Pasha, a slight deaf man but an able pupil of
von der Goltz and the Potsdam War College, was given command on the
Smyrna front and the hasty extemporization of munition factories began
at Konia in his rear. Until his forces should be built up to an
effective strength, however, he restricted himself to keeping in touch
with the Greeks, and with all of Asia Minor behind him in which to
maneuvre, he traded territory for time whenever the Greeks showed an
inclination to move. Luckily for Angora, the Greeks sat waiting on the
Allies and attempted little movement after their first rush ended.
Thus hemmed about with enemies, the Nationalist Party had won a
clean-cut political victory by installing its Parliamentary majority
in Constantinople, and its troops had penetrated into the very suburbs
of the capital in search of surrendered munitions with which to
re-equip themselves. Although the Mudros armistice had been torn up at
the Greek occupation of Smyrna and a state of war again existed,
Angora was in close telegraphic communication with Rauf Bey, the
leader of its Parliamentary majority in Constantinople. Indeed, with
the British Navy commanding those sections of its perimeter which were
not in the occupation of enemy Armies, Angora’s wire to Constantinople
constituted its only means of communication with the West.
But on the night of March 15-16, 1920, General Milne isolated
Constantinople from Anatolia, conducted a series of lightning raids at
midnight in Stamboul, arrested Rauf Bey and many of his colleagues for
deportation to Malta, and not only cut off Angora from the legal
Parliamentary machinery which it had spent eight months in building
up, but cut it off from any means of effective communication with the
West. This was a staggering blow. Angora immediately ordered the
arrest of the few British officers who remained in Asia Minor, chief
among them Lord Rawlinson’s brother who was jailed at Erzerum, but
with Rauf Bey and his colleagues on their way to Malta as prisoners of
the British, the Nationalists lost some of the best brains in the
Party. The Italians soon opened their cable from Adalia to Rhodes
whence a wireless was in communication with Rome, but Angora’s sole
contact with the West was even then at the disposal of a foreign
Power.
Within the next few weeks, deputies who had escaped General Milne’s
midnight raids in Stamboul, began filtering into Angora and an attempt
to reconstruct the shattered Parliament began. A month was allowed for
escaped deputies to reach Angora and claim their seats in the new
Parliament, and the seats of others who had been interned on Malta
were awarded in new “elections,” one of which is said to have been
held in the Asiatic suburbs of Constantinople itself where Italian
forces were in occupation; Italy has never relished the hurried Greek
occupation of Smyrna.
So on April 23, 1920, the reconstructed Parliament, with deputies
sitting for constituencies in all the areas covered by the Erzerum
program, from Thrace to Mosul, began its session in the old Committee
of Union and Progress building in Angora, under the new name of the
Grand National Assembly of Turkey. Mustapha Kemal Pasha was made
Commander-in-Chief and President, Fevzi Pasha became Chief of the
General Staff and Prime Minister, Rafet Pasha became Minister of War
and Interior, and the deputies acquiesced in the military dictatorship
which they found at Angora. Even in the West, democracy does not
thrive in time of war, nor did it in the war-ringed isolation of
Angora. Forty percent requisitions, accompanied by ruinously heavy
taxation afforded, not enough money to balance the Assembly’s budgets,
but enough to enable Fevzi and Rafet Pashas to continue re-mobilizing
and re-equipping the Army.
On April 6, Damad Ferid Pasha again became _Grand Vizier_ in
Constantinople and began at once a determined effort to regain a
foothold in Anatolia. Fevzi and Rafet Pashas replied to him with a
series of so-called Military Courts of Independence, before which any
late Ottoman subject suspected of anti-Nationalism could be brought,
tried under the Army code for treason in time of war, and if convicted
summarily hung. In the Nationalist view, the Ottoman Sultanate and the
Ottoman Government had alike ceased to exist on the night of March
15-16, 1920, and Damad Ferid Pasha, with the prestige of the Ottoman
Caliphate at his disposal, now added himself to the Western enemies
who surrounded Angora in a final struggle for the possession of the
new Turkish State.
The Greeks were hurriedly flung in front of the Straits, Ismet Pasha
making no attempt to oppose them, and from behind them Ferid in
Constantinople appealed to Old Turkish opinion at Konia to uphold the
conservative usages of Islam and denounce the Nationalists. It was an
appeal which had helped to nullify the Young Turkish Revolution in
1908, which had helped to keep the old Empire in the stiff dead grip
of religious usage. It was a very powerful appeal and the Greek
command at Smyrna lost no time in re-inforcing it by proclaiming its
solicitude for the Caliphate of Islam. Moslem and Christian reaction
were the rocks on which the 1908 Revolution had come to grief and the
Greek command at Smyrna lost no time in dropping them into the channel
which the Nationalist Revolution of 1920 would have to thread. Since
Greeks and Armenians were then at war with Turkey, Christian reaction
had no standing at Angora, but Moslem reaction is a rock which Turkey
is to this day still engaged in passing and will be for some years to
come. Ferid had no more powerful weapon with which to attack the
Nationalist hold on the conservative peasantry of Asia Minor and on
the dervish _tekkes_ of Konia. The Nationalists could handle their
strong but docile peasantry, but if the worst came to the worst at
Konia the Nationalists could make it plain that Indian and Algerian
Moslems had fought against the Ottoman Government during the war and
that in the new Turkish State the needs of the country took precedence
over the letter of Moslem law.
From April 6, 1920, when Damad Ferid Pasha re-entered office in
Constantinople, a Nationalist coastguard was instituted on the
Mediterranean opposite Konia in order to oppose any attempt at a
landing, whether by Ferid’s followers from the capital or by Greeks
engaged in the interesting business of proclaiming their solicitude
for Islam. Konia itself, a dusty wind-swept provincial capital on the
Anatolian plateau, replete with old Seljukian and pre-Seljukian
mosques, was linked with Angora by a great semi-circle of railway line
which bent westward _via_ Eski-Shehr and Afium-Karahissar, and
thrice-a-week trains made the journey in eighteen hours. At the same
time, this bend of railway line was identical from Eski-Shehr to Afium
with another bend from Constantinople to Smyrna. With Smyrna and its
hinterland in Greek hands, the Greek command added to its new interest
in Islam a scheme for the revival under Greek auspices of the old
Seljukian Empire with its seat at Konia. The Seljukian program is
another of the ghosts which became stirred to life when the Ottoman
Empire went down in 1918 to join the dead.
Ferid’s agents and Greek agents kept slipping through the Greek lines
toward Konia and moving back and forth under the coasts of Asia Minor
with their eyes on Konia. In the British view, the Ottoman dynasty had
lost the Caliphate in 1914 when it was used to declare a holy war
against the British and their Allies. Events at Mecca had since
changed the British view, but if the Caliphate were not too serious a
matter for light speaking, it might be added that in the Nationalist
view the British lost the Caliphate in 1920 when they used it to
declare a holy war against the Nationalists. Ferid finally recovered
Konia in the counter-revolution of October, 1920, but Rafet Pasha
hurried 2,000 men down the railway from Angora, occupied Ala-ed-Din
hill in the outskirts of the city and drove out Ferid’s administration
in three days of sharp fighting. Rafet Pasha appointed as military
governor of Konia, Ghalib Pasha, a tall white-haired Albanian who had
defended the Caliphate as Ottoman commander in the Hejaz during the
war, and the _tchelebi_ of the Mevlevi dervishes whose historic right
it had been to gird each Caliph with the Prophet’s Sword forty days
after his accession to the Throne, went to Angora as one of Konia’s
eight deputies in the Grand National Assembly. So the Seljukian ghost
was laid and the Caliphate came into the Nationalists’ keeping.
The Nationalist hold on the interior of Asia Minor now became
indisputable. The munition factories in the rear of Ismet Pasha’s
slowly growing forces on the Smyrna front, were quickly enlarged and
Konia became a war-center of the first importance in the interior. A
considerable number of Armenians who had been returned to Konia after
the Mudros armistice and who had voluntarily remained in their homes
when the British offered to evacuate them at the time of their own
evacuation of the Bagdad Railway, had been compromised anew by the
Greek occupation of Smyrna and were placed under increasing military
surveillance as the number of Turkish munition factories in the town
grew. Armenian “indiscretions,” however, finally led to the
deportation of men of military age farther into the interior, and the
locking up of their churches in Konia. The juxtaposition of a Turkish
munition factory and an Armenian church is one which is possibly apt
to produce “indiscretions.” When I was last in Konia, the only
Armenians there were women and children. A number of mosques in the
town had been taken over for military depots, but no Armenian church
in the town had been so taken over. The churches were locked up but
otherwise untouched. The Armenian women in the town were permitted to
receive no mail from the outside world, for the Nationalist censors
were supposed to read Turkish and French only, not Armenian. No Turk
ever learns Armenian, and apparently there was no Armenian in whose
loyalty the Turks had sufficient confidence to enable them to entrust
Armenian mail to him for censorship. The Armenian women were being
taxed to the point of robbery, and so were their Turkish neighbors.
Ghalib Pasha told me that he was treating Turks and Armenians on a
basis of scrupulous equality, and I believe that he meant precisely
what he said. If there were enough men like Ghalib Pasha in Turkey to
fill all the provincial administrations, Turkey would be a model
country. But men like Ghalib Pasha are not appointed chiefs of police
in highly delicate places like Konia.
Damad Ferid Pasha did not cease his efforts to regain a foothold in
Anatolia, after his brief counter-revolution in Konia. With the Greek
advance in the spring and summer of 1921, his agents renewed their
activities along the coasts. In Smyrna the Greeks welcomed them and in
Mersina, the port of Cilicia, the French and Armenians welcomed them.
Their work increased with the 1921 Greek offensive, until Nationalist
agents boarded the British steamer _Palatina_ at Adalia, discovered
Topal Osman and four confederates hidden in a cargo hold, and shot
them down. It was a wholly illegal proceeding but it put an end to
Ferid’s efforts to return to Anatolia. Incidentally, it so embarrassed
the Italians who were occupying Adalia under the secret war-time
agreement of St. Jean de Maurienne, that they evacuated their zone.
Technically, they had been hostile to the Turks but actually their
hostility was directed to the Greeks in Smyrna. Their departure now
afforded the Nationalists their first access to the Mediterranean, and
their first representation in the West was soon at Rome.
[Illustration: REAR-ADMIRAL COLBY M. CHESTER, U. S. N. (RETIRED)
To whose associates the First Grand National Assembly granted the huge
development program known as the Chester Concession.]
[Illustration: REAR-ADMIRAL MARK L. BRISTOL, U. S. N.
United States High Commissioner at Constantinople from February, 1919,
to the resumption of diplomatic relations between the United States
and Turkey.]
XVIII
TURKISH NATIONALISM
THE WESTERN TRADITION OF GOVERNMENT TO WHICH THE GRAND NATIONAL
ASSEMBLY WAS BUILT――HOW NATIONALISM WAS CREATED――GREEK DEFEAT AT THE
SAKARIA RIVER――PEACE WITH THE FRENCH IN CILICIA――AMERICAN ARMENIANISM
AND CILICIA――HOW A CIVILIAN ADMINISTRATION WAS BEGUN AT ANGORA WHILE
FEVZI PASHA WAS RE-MOBILIZING AND RE-EQUIPPING THE TURKISH ARMIES.
When the Grand National Assembly opened its first session on April 23,
1920, in the gray granite building at the foot of Angora, the Crescent
and Star went up on the flag-staff atop the building and, although
trenches were dug for its military defense if necessary, the Turkish
flag has flown there night and day ever since it was first hoisted. At
one corner of the grounds, just outside the trenches which encircle
the building, a gallows was erected. In a little restaurant near the
Assembly building, I have sat at luncheon with that gallows looking in
through the window. I have thought several times as I sat there of a
number of worthy Americans at home who might have held less simple
views on Near and Middle Eastern subjects in days gone by, if they
could have sat at luncheon in Angora with the cross-beam and pulley of
that gallows looking in upon them.
The Assembly building itself contains a single floor with a corridor
down its middle, a row of committee rooms on one side and a
comparatively large chamber on the other. The chamber was equipped for
the Assembly’s use by the construction of a high desk for “Mr.
Speaker” in the center of one wall and a lower desk in front of it to
be used by deputies in addressing the Assembly. Grouped in
semi-circular fashion around the Speaker’s desk, the small desks to be
used by the deputies themselves were crowded upon the floor of the
chamber in long rows. Half-way up the side walls, small galleries were
built for visitors. The whole equipment was of wood. It looked like a
school-room. It was a school-room, possibly as bitter a school-room as
any nation has ever attended.
The 342 deputies of the Assembly were in large part, and still are,
Easterners engaged in adapting the Western governmental tradition to
their own uses, but they have never sold their great Eastern
birthright for a mess of Western pottage. When they gathered for their
first session at 1 o’clock on April 23, 1920, a small motto, done in
Turkish script of white on a blue ground, a quotation from the _Koran_
such as may be found in thousands of devout Moslem homes, was hung on
the wall above the Speaker’s desk. A free translation of it into
English would be: “Let us meet together in council and discuss.” It
was the ground on which the new force of nationalism was carrying the
conservative peasantry of Anatolia behind the Caliph in Constantinople
to the _Koran_ itself, on which it was wrenching Anatolia away from
the Sultan and his _Grand Vizier_ while refraining from any violation
of its allegiance to the Ottoman Caliphate.
Beneath that motto, the deputies met at 1 o’clock every day but
Friday, which is the Moslem Sabbath. They consisted of men in Western
dress and _kalpaks_, officers in the old great-coats of Ottoman Army
days, and _hojas_ in Eastern robes and turbans. They varied in
personal appearance from the ample and immaculate figure of
Djelal-ed-Din Arif Bey, deputy for Erzerum, to three Kurdish chiefs
who could neither read nor write. The din of their conversation, both
within the chamber and in the corridor without, was continual and the
intermittent tinkle of the Speaker’s hand-bell did little to abate it,
for the Assembly at Angora is as noisy as all other Parliaments are.
The military dictatorship which Fevzi Pasha and Rafet Pasha wielded
over Anatolia was in the Eastern tradition, but in the institution of
the Assembly a Western plant began taking root in the Eastern soil of
Anatolia. The military dictatorship would pass with the war but the
Assembly was intended to be permanent and it was fashioned in
readiness to begin functioning as soon as the war permitted. In its
structure, the Western tradition was adapted to what were believed to
be the country’s needs. It was necessarily fashioned to a theory at
first, for the number of enemies who ringed it about made a
dictatorship essential. As the war approached its end, as more men and
more money became available, practice might modify it but with the
loss of the Parliament at Constantinople it afforded the only attempt
at an ultimately civilian administration which the country possessed.
This is the theory to which it was built: Under the Ottoman
Constitution, as revived by the 1908 Revolution, the powers of
declaring war and peace, of dissolving Parliament, of receiving
diplomatic representatives of foreign States, and of appointing the
Cabinet and the Senate, had been vested in the Sultan. In the creation
of the Grand National Assembly, the Sultan was deposed and his
prerogatives were re-distributed. The Assembly itself became the seat
of authority and since its sessions were fixed by its fundamental law
at two years’ duration, no right of dissolving it was admitted. The
power of receiving diplomatic representatives of foreign States was
delegated to the President of the Assembly. The power of appointing
the Cabinet was taken by the Assembly and since its Ministers were
made individually responsible to the Assembly, both the executive and
the legislative functions of government were retained in its hands.
The Senate disappeared with the Sultan and the Government of the Grand
National Assembly became radically republican in structure.
Differences of opinion existed in the Nationalist Party respecting its
permanent structure, a small school of monarchist opinion holding that
a form of government so unreservedly republican would not show itself
suited to the country’s peace-time needs, but for the time being
domestic controversies were buried deeply beneath the urgencies of the
military situation. No differences of opinion have existed among
Westerners who know the East, however. It has long been a belief in
the West that the East can only be ruled by Sultans. We Westerners may
be right or we may be wrong in our views of the East, but Turkish
Nationalism has thrown us a most direct challenge in the out-and-out
republicanism of its Grand National Assembly. When the war ends, we
shall see what we shall see.
The Grand National Assembly speedily set about the elaboration of a
fundamental law which may be taken as the Constitution in embryo of
the new Turkish State. It was finally adopted on June 17, 1920, and
its more important clauses translate from Turkish into English as
follows:
“Article I. Sovereignty belongs to the nation without reservation. The
administration of the nation’s sovereignty is based on the principle
of the direct decision of the people.
“Article II. The executive power as well as the legislative power are
concentrated in the Grand National Assembly of Turkey which alone
represents the nation.
“Article III. Turkey is governed by the Grand National Assembly and
its Government is entitled ‘the Government of the Grand National
Assembly.’
“Article IV. The Grand National Assembly is composed of members
elected by the inhabitants of provinces.
“Article V. The election of members of the Grand National Assembly
takes place once in every two years. The duration of membership is two
years only. Members may be re-elected. The Assembly continues its
session until the new Assembly is convened. In case it is impossible
to hold new elections, the session of the Assembly may be prolonged
for one year only. Each member of the Grand National Assembly
represents not only his province but is also a representative of the
nation.
“Article VI. The general session of the Grand National Assembly takes
place on the first of November without convocation.
“Article VII. Fundamental rights such as the enactment dispositions of
the _Sheriat_ (Moslem law), the making, modification and abrogation of
laws, the conclusion of conventions and treaties of peace, and the
call for the defense of the country, belong to the Grand National
Assembly. The making of laws shall be based on principles of
jurisprudence which are most closely adapted to the needs of the
nation and to the requirements of its customs and habits. The powers
and duties of the council of mandatory Ministers of the nation shall
be determined by special laws.
“Article VIII. The Grand National Assembly administers its
governmental departments through mandatory Ministers elected by the
Assembly, according to rules to be provided in a special law. It is
the Grand National Assembly which instructs the mandatory Ministers in
executive matters and if necessary changes the Ministers….
“Article XI. In local matters, the province has an autonomous
personality. With the exception of internal and external policy, the
_Sheriat_, justice, military affairs, international economic
relations, government imposts and inter-provincial matters, the
provinces are charged with the administration, under laws to be
promulgated by the Grand National Assembly, of the _Evkaf_ (Moslem
religious endowments), educational institutions, sanitary services,
local economics, agriculture, public works and social services….”
The remaining articles outline the organization of the provincial and
sub-provincial administrations. In this fundamental law, the
Nationalist Revolution of 1920 undertakes to effect the same
decentralization in administration as the Young Turkish Revolution of
1908 failed to effect. It undertakes infinitely more than that. At a
single stroke, it lifts the new Turkish State out of the dead grip of
ancient religious usage which strangled the 1908 Revolution, which in
fact made effective revolution of any sort a traditional and hackneyed
impossibility in the old Ottoman Empire. Whether the new Turkish State
will succeed in maintaining its new and highly promising freedom from
the stiff religious traditions which imprisoned the old Empire,
remains to be seen. Christian reaction has been met and defeated on
the field of battle, but Moslem reaction is still suppressed by the
iron hand of the Assembly’s Treason Law. Hidden away in the bitter
loneliness of Anatolia, the Nationalist Party has used drastic methods
in laying the foundations of its Western governmental structure in the
Eastern soil of Anatolia. If those foundations have been well and
firmly laid, we have something new in the East at last.
Westerners who did not penetrate the thick veil of war which screened
Anatolia from the world during its years of seige, will not find it
easy to realize the suspicion with which it regarded us in the West.
Deceived again and again by Mr. Lloyd George, goaded by repeated Greek
atrocities unwittingly reinforced by wild atrocity tales to which the
hospitable American press opened its columns, only a man of Mustapha
Kemal Pasha’s iron patience could have compelled his angry countrymen
to persevere in the search for a peaceful escape from the fate which
loomed above them on every frontier. Yet amid the suspicion which
possessed Anatolia during those hard years, the Nationalist Party
created a new and very real human force known as nationalism.
Patriotism, love of one’s own soil, is a Western sentiment which would
have required a generation under normal circumstances for its
transplantation to the Eastern soil of Anatolia, but under the
circumstance of a Greek Smyrna, it sprang into existence overnight.
The Turkish poet, Mehmed Emin Bey, travelling from village to village
in Anatolia with a Turkish officer attached to him, added fuel to the
new flame of nationalism with his old cry, “_I am a Turk; my race and
language are great._” Newspaper plants, smuggled out from
Constantinople, pieces of press machinery concealed in travellers’
baggage, handfuls of type dropped into travellers’ pockets, produced
new dailies and weeklies in Anatolia which poured more fuel on the new
flame. The whole culture of the Turks was moved bit by bit from the
old capital to the new center of the nation’s life. Rafet Pasha’s
Military Courts of Independence suppressed any attempt to quench the
new flame. These Courts were a harsh reminder that there was such a
thing as a distinctive Middle Eastern civilization and that it had
come to a time when there was no longer any room in Anatolia for
natives who were not loyal to their own civilization. The old
religious divisions which had split the Anatolian population swiftly
melted away in the heat of the new flame. Papa Eftim Effendi gave up
his community rights and sixty-eight Orthodox churches in the interior
followed him into the new Turkish Orthodox Church, agreeing to appoint
no metropolitans except those who could read and write Turkish, who
were of Ottoman parentage, who had lived at least five years in the
country and who had abstained from “political activity.” They agreed
furthermore that metropolitans accused of secular crimes, instead of
being immune from arrest without having first been degraded and then
being subject to imprisonment only in the Oecumenical Patriarchate,
were to be arrested and tried as any other Turkish subject would be.
Moslems permitted a new personage called the Minister of Sacred Law to
become an ordinary member of the Cabinet at Angora, and the huge
wealth which was locked up in the country’s Moslem endowments was
opened and placed at the disposition of the provincial administrations.
Moslem courts and schools were taken over by the Ministers of Justice
and Education, respectively. Although American churchmen still thought
in terms of the old Ottoman Empire, still played upon the old
religious division between Moslems and Christians which had proved the
ruin of them both, the new political force of nationalism was blending
them in Turkey as in Syria, in Palestine and in Egypt. Nationalism is
a strangely new and Western force in the East today and thus far
Anatolia has clung to it in the face of every effort which Mr. Lloyd
George and American churchmen could exert to throw the country back
into the ruin of its bitter past.
For a year after the Greeks landed at Smyrna on May 15, 1919, they sat
in the hinterland of the great port waiting for the Sevres Treaty,
while Fevzi Pasha and Rafet Pasha worked like Trojans at Angora. In
May, 1920, they threw their screen in front of the Straits, Ismet
Pasha making no effort to molest them. In November, 1920, Old Greece
finally rid itself of Mr. Venizelos, a wedge was driven between Athens
and the Phanar, and the French made Constantine an excuse for
disentangling themselves from the Greeks. Royalist officers now took
over the front behind Smyrna with no respect for the Allied veto on a
drive toward Eski-Shehr and Afium-Karahissar. With these two railway
junctions occupied, the Greeks would possess the great semi-circle of
railway which runs from Constantinople to Smyrna, and the Turks would
be deprived of the interior Angora-Konia line with which they were
secretly re-mobilizing and re-equipping their Armies on the Smyrna
front. Accordingly in January, 1921, the Royalist Greek command tried
its strength from Brussa toward Eski-Shehr and retired without
encountering Turkish opposition. The situation was now plain.
Eski-Shehr and Afium were theirs whenever they cared to take them. As
for Fevzi Pasha and Rafet Pasha at Angora, they had imposed a strict
embargo on travellers into the interior of Anatolia and the secrecy
they succeeded in preserving was one of their striking successes.
Two months later, in March, 1921, the Royalist Greek command launched
its double advance, the Southern Army moving on Afium from Ushak, the
Northern Army on Eski-Shehr from Brussa. To their surprise, both
advances encountered organized Turkish forces of considerable
strength. The Southern Army, against stiff opposition, succeeded in
occupying Afium but the Northern Army, following the route it had
walked over in January, ran into a murderous battle at Inë-Onü and had
to fall back to its old position at Brussa, the Southern Army falling
back from Afium to Ushak with it. That battle was the first meeting of
Greek and Turkish troops in Asia Minor and is today one of the epics
of the new Turkey.
Inë-Onü was the first evidence the Greeks had of what Fevzi Pasha and
Rafet Pasha had been doing at Angora, and Athens began feverishly to
increase its forces in order to administer a “knockout” before Ismet
Pasha’s command should be built up into a regular Army. Athens was
ready by July and three Armies, starting from the southern, center and
northern fronts, were ordered to converge on Kutahia, about half-way
between Eski-Shehr and Afium. The operations developed according to
plan, Kutahia fell, Eski-Shehr was evacuated under the threat of
encirclement and, although Ismet Pasha pounded at the exhausted Greeks
in Eski-Shehr for ten days, the Greeks held and Ismet Pasha withdrew
to the Sakaria River, covering Angora itself. The Greek command had
won the railway junctions of Eski-Shehr and Afium and now possessed
the bend of railway line which connects Constantinople and Smyrna. The
Turkish command had lost its interior railway line and the only
connection between Angora and Konia was now a carriage road over which
the two towns were five days apart.
Still lured by the possibility of a “knockout,” the Greek command now
rested for a month and then resumed its march. Toward the end of
August, it re-established contact with the Turks on the Sakaria River,
where Field Marshal Mustapha Kemal Pasha had taken command in person.
At Angora the civil Government had made preparations for evacuation to
Caesarea, crowds of refugees had thronged the already overcrowded
town, and occupants of larger dwellings were dispossessed to make room
for military hospitals.
The Battle of the Sakaria River which ensued, was another Inë-Onü but
on a larger scale. It lasted three weeks and even Kemal Pasha himself
was wounded in the course of it, although the only announcement which
was made of his injury in Angora was a brief _communique_ to the
effect that he had “fallen from his horse.” Attempting to encircle the
Turkish left, the Greek command drove south across an area of desert
but Kemal pulled down his forces to meet them. The Greeks drove inland
forty miles in a vain endeavor to find the Turkish left, and finally
changing their plan of battle, threw themselves against the Turkish
lines in a straight frontal engagement, some of the Greek attacks
driving all the way through and then being held up by the failure of
flanking regiments to follow them. Heavy Turkish counter-attacks
finally made it plain that the Greek command had underestimated the
Turkish strength and that the long Greek lines of communication
exposed it to the risk of a disorderly retreat. By the middle of
September, the Greek command began pulling back its forces, burning
Turkish villages as they went. By the first of October, the Greeks
were back in their old positions covering the railway junctions at
Eski-Shehr and Afium and the Turkish recovery of Smyrna became only a
matter of time. By the end of October, the late Miss Annie T. Allen
and Miss Florence Billings, the Near East Relief’s representatives in
Angora, compiled a report on the state of the Turkish villages which
the Greeks had burned during their retreat and forwarded it to the
Near East Relief’s headquarters in Constantinople. But the Near East
Relief has never published that report, just as Mr. Lloyd George never
published the Bristol report on Greek misdeeds at Smyrna.
The Turkish victory on the banks of the Sakaria radically changed the
political complexion of the Near and Middle East. For 200 years, the
West had been breaking down the old Ottoman Empire, but on the Sakaria
River it encountered the Turk himself and when it touched the Turk the
tide of history turned. History will one day find in this obscure
engagement on the Sakaria one of the decisive battles of our era.
The French Foreign Office which had been waiting on the outer rim of
events ever since the Mudros armistice deprived the French Army of its
anticipated sole command in Constantinople, now dispatched M. Henry
Franklin-Bouillon to Angora, where he negotiated the Franco-Turkish
peace agreement of October 20, 1921. Although the covering letter from
Yusuf Kemal Bey, Foreign Minister of the Turkish Government, contains
the only reference to “economic preference” which marked the result of
the Franklin-Bouillon negotiations, the French Foreign Office probably
hoped in this agreement not only to put an end to the expensive state
of war which the French command at Beirut was facing in Cilicia, but
also to salvage the Perier railway concession which had been the
subject of French negotiations with the old Ottoman Government in
1914. A French loan of £22,000,000 had been offered the old Government
in February of that year of which £16,000,000 was paid in the
following April, the French Perier group taking in return a concession
for 1,800 miles of railway line in northern and eastern Anatolia. The
loan, however, had never been completed, the concession had never been
ratified by the old Parliament and it seems quite probable that, even
if it had been, the war would have cancelled it. But peace in Cilicia
had become an urgent necessity, for the Turkish forces were slowly
pushing the Franco-Armenian Armies back toward the sea. To secure
peace, as well as any other objectives which M. Franklin-Bouillon may
have had in mind, the French Foreign Office surrendered to Turkey a
long strip of territory, beginning with Cilicia and running east to
the Mosul province, a French company, however, maintaining the right
of operating the Bagdad Railway from the port of Mersina in Cilicia to
its eastern terminus on the flatlands of Upper Mesopotamia.
News of this surrender so embittered the French Army that General
Dufieux, the French commandant in Cilicia, left Adana immediately for
Beirut, leaving behind him only subordinate French officers to carry
out the evacuation. It threw the Armenians in Cilicia into a panic. In
preparing their independent Armenian State under the French aegis,
they had taken a drastic revenge on the Turks in Cilicia and there was
doubtless ample ground for their fears that the Turks would continue
the ugly business. In order to assuage their fears, the Turkish
Government proclaimed a blanket amnesty, exempted them from military
service which it had a legal right to claim from them, exempted them
from the forty percent requisitions which it exacted from all other
Turkish subjects in the country, and guaranteed their security in the
strongest terms it could use. To back up these guarantees, it
dispatched two of the best men it had available, Muheddin Pasha as
military governor of the re-occupied territory and Hamid Bey, who has
been mentioned above in connection with Samsun, as political officer.
Muheddin Pasha is a representative of the finest type of old Ottoman
Army officer. He was one of Mustapha Kemal Pasha’s teachers in the War
Academy at Constantinople and he has been introduced by Kemal Pasha as
“the man who gave us all our ideas of liberty.” He had nothing to do
with the Armenian deportations of 1915 or with the Enver Government
which ordered them; under the Hamidian _regime_, he had been exiled
four times and twice condemned to death, and during the war he served
as Ottoman commander in the Yemen which was about as far from the
capital as Enver Pasha could have sent him.
The Turkish re-occupation was timed to begin Dec. 1, 1921, and to be
completed by Jan. 4, 1922. On November 20, Muheddin Pasha and Hamid
Bey published a proclamation in the Turkish newspaper, _Yeni Adana_,
which was designed to assuage the Armenians’ fears. On November 22,
they met a deputation of Armenian leaders in an upper room of the
Yenidje railway station, and M. Franklin-Bouillon reached Yenidje
later in the day from Angora to repeat their re-assurances. On
November 26, they motored to Mersina where some 40,000 Armenians were
waiting for ships and met a deputation of 100 Armenian notables in the
Government building. On November 29, M. Franklin-Bouillon returned to
Mersina alone and held a final conference with the Armenians. Since
they had once been Ottoman subjects, the Turkish Government had a
probable right in law to forbid their departure from Turkish soil, but
it had become clear that no guarantees it could offer would persuade
them to remain voluntarily and the Government refrained from keeping
them involuntarily. Most of them went to Syria to live on the charity
of the Near East Relief at Alexandretta, only a few miles away, and
their abandoned homes in Cilicia were put into the hands of a Turkish
committee appointed by Hamid Bey to be kept for them for a year’s
time. Most of Cilicia was in a devastated condition and there was an
appalling amount of work to be done in repairing the ravages of war,
but the bulk of the Armenians settled down to live in idleness on
American charity at the old Alexandretta barracks.
It may be that some means will yet be discovered of re-writing ten
centuries of history in the eastern provinces and five centuries in
Cilicia; it may be that some way will yet be opened of transferring
the semi-autonomy of the old _Ermeni_ community from a religious to a
territorial basis, but with all possible good will, the discovery of
it or of the faintest possibility of it has proven beyond the feeble
powers of the present writer. If the Armenian problem had ever been
really understood in the United States, certainly no sane American
would ever have meddled with it. The past, however, is beyond recall.
In the tragic position to which the Armenians have been reduced today,
three courses suggest themselves as being open to Americans in the
future:
First, Congress may declare war on Turkey and by dispatching an
expeditionary force of a strength of possibly 200,000 men, we may
conquer Cilicia and install an Armenian State which will stand as long
as our Army or some other Western Army remains in occupation and no
longer; and by so doing, we shall succeed in righting one wrong by
committing a greater wrong. Happily, this course is out of the
question.
Second, we may continue to support the Armenians with charity and to
insist upon “minority rights” in Turkey as distinct from the rights of
Turkey’s majorities. This course we have followed consistently since
1918, and it has only succeeded in stiffening the Turks, pauperizing
the Armenians, and preventing that peace which is the very first
essential of both.
Third, we may permit the Armenians to work out their future alone.
This is the course which thoughtful Armenians in Turkey now desire us
to adopt, and its principal remaining opponents are certain Armenians
who live in New York and are frightfully far from reality. If we adopt
this course for the future, it seems quite possible that those
Armenians who prefer to live in their own country will in time find
their way into Soviet Armenia and those who remain in Turkey will be
given equal rights and equal duties with the Turks themselves. Turks
and Armenians understand each other well. Until fifty years ago, they
had lived together on generally peaceful terms for several centuries
and the fact (to come no nearer home) that Czarist Russia has
disappeared, seems to promise the possibility of an eventual
resumption in the new Turkish State of that peace which once
characterized their relationship….
The French evacuation of Cilicia cleared the Turkish left, but the
Greeks on the Eski-Shehr-Afium line still confronted the Turkish
center and the Allies in Constantinople still confronted the Turkish
right. Meanwhile, the British command in the capital executed in a
lesser degree the same climb-down as the French had made with respect
to Angora. As a result of the Turkish victory on the Sakaria River,
the Turkish deportees on Malta were exchanged at Ineboli on the Black
Sea coast for British prisoners held in Anatolia. So Rauf Bey came
back to Angora.
No Turk has been a greater lover of the British than Rauf Bey (Rauf is
of Circassian and Albanian blood, but politically he is a Turk and
unlike most Turks his foreign language is English instead of French).
He had applied to the British Embassy in 1914 for help in keeping his
country neutral, but no reply had been given him. He had applied to
Admiral Calthorpe in 1918 for an armistice, but that armistice led to
the Allied occupation of Constantinople and the Greek occupation of
Smyrna. He had acted in good faith upon an intimation from General
Milne in 1920 and had brought the Nationalist deputies from Angora to
Constantinople, but that action landed him behind British barbed wire
on Malta. Is it a matter of wonder that the great tradition which
generations of Englishmen had built up in Constantinople, has now
disappeared? No Turk has fought harder for the British than Rauf Bey,
and few countries have ever more consistently wounded their own
friends in Turkey than the England over which Mr. Lloyd George
presided. Rauf Bey’s tragic experience at the hands of their country
is one which Englishmen might do well to ponder during these new days,
when Turkish tugs are piloting British merchantmen into the Gulf of
Smyrna.
Ali Fethy Bey, a mild, almost shy, Macedonian Turk whose modest
bearing gives no hint of the strength he has contributed to Angora,
returned with Rauf and a long list of other deputies in the late
Parliament at Constantinople. Here were the civilian brains of which
Angora stood in the greatest need and it now became possible for the
Grand National Assembly to begin the erection of a civilian
administration. Winter was coming on and the military situation would
necessarily remain at a stand-still. The Assembly gave its War Office
(the Ministry of National Defense is its official title) an immediate
shake-up. Rafet Pasha fell and the Ministry of the Interior was
separated out and given to Ali Fethy Bey. Here he encountered the same
difficulty as so many of the Nationalist leaders encountered――he knew
nothing of Anatolia and it required most of the winter merely to learn
the ins and outs of his department. Rauf Bey was given the Ministry of
Public Works but in a re-shuffle of the Cabinet, he presently
displaced Fevzi Pasha as Prime Minister, a position more nearly
commensurate with his very high abilities. The Ministry of Finance was
elevated to an actual, as distinct from a figurehead, authority and
the Near East Relief’s representatives who had been accustomed to
consulting Rafet Pasha on matters of mutual interest, now found
themselves referred to Hassan Tahsin Bey, Minister of Finance, when
they desired to obtain exemption of relief supplies from the payment
of customs duties. Rafet Pasha had been accustomed to pass on their
applications as if they were personal matters, but Tahsin Bey was a
stranger. With the _regime_ of the Capitulations ended, Americans were
finding themselves in a position in which it became necessary to treat
a Government official in Turkey as though he were a Government
official. For some Americans, the change has proven, and is still
proving, a difficult one.
In the meantime, the Foreign Office which had been housed in the old
Public Debt building, had signed a treaty of mutual recognition with
Soviet Russia on March 16, 1921, at the same time as a similar
Russo-Persian treaty was being signed. In the Russo-Turkish treaty,
full Russian recognition was given to the Erzerum program, including
that clause of it respecting Constantinople and the Straits. No more
vivid illustration exists of the meaning of the Russian Revolution
than the contrast between the Russo-Turkish Treaty of 1921 and the
Anglo-Russian Treaty of 1907.
The application of the provisions of the 1921 Treaty to the new
Russo-Turkish frontier in the Kars Treaty which was signed Oct. 13,
1921, brought about peace in the eastern provinces, and Azerbaijan and
Afghan Ministers, accredited to Mustapha Kemal Pasha, were received in
Angora. A Russian Ambassador was also received and the elaboration of
consular and commercial treaties was begun.
Only three sections of the frontiers of the Turkish State now remained
to be fixed――the Mosul frontier, the Smyrna frontier and the frontier
in Europe. Communication with the West, with a view to the peaceful
settlement of these disputed frontiers, was now open to Constantinople
direct, the British command having opened the wire from the General
Post-Office in Stamboul to “the interior” at the same time as it
returned the deportees from Malta. The carriage road from Adabazar
which was available by rail from Constantinople, on past the Greek
left to Angora was also thrown open, but Greek and Circassian brigands
raided it so frequently that its use was impossible without a strong
guard. Access to Angora was in practice still confined to the railway
from Mersina to Konia and thence by carriage to Angora, or up from the
Black Sea coast through the mountains to Angora. Admission to the
interior, however, was rarely granted by the Turkish Government’s new
representative in Stamboul, for the Greeks were still dug in before
Eski-Shehr and Afium-Karahissar and the war was still on.
Conditions in Anatolia greatly improved during the winter of 1921-’22.
The beginnings of a civilian administration appeared, but the military
situation necessarily continued to dominate. Fevzi Pasha continued to
snap up munitions wherever he could get them. Some came from the
Italians, some came from the French (it is not impossible that the
American uniforms in which some of the Turkish soldiers have been
clad, were originally left as American surplus stocks in France), and
some came from the British, for the British Commander-in-Chief and the
British High Commissioner in Constantinople were in as happy accord on
the subject of the Greeks as the British War Office and the British
Foreign Office have been on a number of other Eastern subjects. In the
main, however, the Turkish forces were re-mobilized and re-equipped by
the native resourcefulness of the Turk himself, as personified in the
dour towering figure of Fevzi Pasha. Even after he had secured foreign
ammunition, after gangs of peasant women had trekked it up from the
coasts in ox-carts and on the backs of mules and camels, machinery had
to be scraped together to change the _calibre_ of much of it before it
would fit his guns. There is hardly a more remarkable story in modern
military history than the story of how Fevzi Pasha re-mobilized and
re-equipped the Turkish forces out of left-over lots of dismantled
artillery and misfit ammunition. The cost of those forces to Anatolia
in its impoverished condition has been appalling, but their creation
by Fevzi Pasha under the conditions of siege which prevailed, has been
no less than miraculous.
XIX
SMYRNA, 1922
ALLIED EFFORTS TO HITCH THE SEVRES TREATY TO TURKISH NATIONALISM――GREEKS
TRANSFER TROOPS FROM SMYRNA TO EASTERN THRACE FOR A MOVE ON
CONSTANTINOPLE AND WHEN FETHY BEY IS REFUSED A HEARING IN LONDON,
FEVZI PASHA LAUNCHES HIS ATTACK――THE TURKISH RECOVERY OF SMYRNA――MR.
LLOYD GEORGE RESIGNS AND THE OTTOMAN SULTAN FLEES――LAUSANNE.
Through the winter of 1921-’22, the Angora scene was a busy one. In
the little restaurant near the Assembly building, Cabinet Ministers,
deputies and Army officers crowded the pine tables at the luncheon
hour, glancing up from their small talk as the unpainted pine door
opened to admit others of their number. The Bokhara Mission would be
in tomorrow. Somebody had been newly named for the Mission to Kabul.
The Minister of the Interior was to make an important statement to the
Assembly shortly. From far away the staccato _rat-tat_ of machine-gun
practice knocked faintly at the ear without occasioning any more
interruption than the squeak of the passing ox-carts outside. But the
small talk paused in its flow when two young gentlemen of the
Azerbaijan Legation entered and joined three young ladies of the
Russian Embassy in a cigarette at their corner table. The small talk
recovered slowly. So-and-so Bey, newly arrived from the Ritz in Paris,
entered with the announcement that he had been unable to find a room
in the town and had had to borrow a soldier and a bucket of whitewash
to build himself a house. Could we come up to the housewarming
tomorrow night? We could. For somebody else with whom we had promised
to dine had had to cancel the invitation on further reflection, the
wind being in the wrong direction and his stove smoking in
consequence.
Outside the restaurant, the falling snow etched its white tracery
across the street panorama of Angora. Peasant women in red ragged
pantaloons, turbaned _hojas_ robed in more somber colors, smart
Turkish officers in the old great-coats of Ottoman days, Turkish
soldiers in somebody’s cast-off khaki, Government officials in
_kalpaks_ and European dress, a Turkish policeman in the old Ottoman
brilliance of red cuffs and brass buttons, six white-robed male nurses
from a Red Crescent hospital bearing on their shoulders a heavy
covered stretcher on its way to an empty grave outside the town――these
came and went through the veil of snow. Groups of men, sitting at
their coffee around glowing braziers in front of the cafes, lifted
their faces from the Constantinople papers at the approaching music of
a military band (true, the Constantinople papers were ten days old by
the time they reached Angora, but many of these men had left their
homes and families in Constantinople, and all they possessed in the
world was hidden somewhere in the old capital, awaiting their return).
Out of a narrow sidestreet the band moved into sight with a withered
little mad woman dancing in her rags beside it. She was fairly well
known in Angora. They said that her father and two brothers had been
killed in the Balkan Wars, her husband and three sons had been killed
in the Great War, and her youngest son had been killed at Inë-Onü. But
however these things might have been, she was dancing down the street
beside the heavy-shod bandsmen, dancing as lightly as the snowflakes
to the crashing rhythms of the Mustapha Kemal Pasha March.
In the wake of the band came the tramping shuffle of a long column of
soldiers, stolid men, heavily accoutred, with khaki _kalpaks_, their
rifles tipped with new bayonets. They marched away down the broad road
which led past the Assembly building to the railway station, a wooden
building with the single word “Angora” in Turkish and English script
on its sign-board. A low pall of woodsmoke, belched from the stacks of
half a dozen locomotives, hung over the railway yard. A long column of
ox-carts was discharging its cargo of new rope-handled wooden boxes
into freight cars. With the band playing, the column of soldiers broke
ranks and scrambled up into another freight train alongside the
station platform. They entrained within a half-hour, a rattle of
couplings ran along the length of the train, and it moved out of the
station toward the west, where the Greeks were still dug in before
Eski-Shehr and Afium-Karahissar….
On Feb. 21, 1921, the Allied Governments had received delegations from
Athens, Constantinople and Angora in London in an effort to reconcile
the Treaty of Sevres and the new force of Turkish nationalism. The
Angora delegates were received as technically members of the
Constantinople delegation, but the latter delegated its leadership to
Bekr Sami Bey, a huge sloping Circassian who was Foreign Minister at
Angora. Bekr Sami Bey belongs to a type of leadership which is one of
Turkey’s peculiar assets, a type which has enjoyed a long and rich
experience in diplomacy and which as a result has developed a genius
for stripping away non-essentials and holding fast to essentials.
There is an old and true saying to the effect that what an Englishman
is at sea, what a Frenchman is on land, a Turk is in diplomacy. It is
a statement which closely characterizes men of the type of Bekr Sami
Bey.
The Allied Governments offered to institute an international
commission for the investigation of population statistics in Eastern
Thrace and Smyrna, on condition that Turkey and Greece accepted its
findings and that the remainder of the Sevres Treaty stood unaltered.
Bekr Sami Bey accepted the offer, subject to certain conditions in the
conduct of the investigation and certain reservations as to the
remainder of the Sevres Treaty. The Greek delegation would accept no
alteration in the Sevres Treaty of any sort.
On March 12, the Allied Governments proposed a series of modifications
in the Sevres Treaty, undertaking _inter alia_ that “the region called
the _Vilayet_ of Smyrna would remain under Turkish sovereignty and a
Greek force would remain in Smyrna town, but in the rest of the
_sanjak_ order would be maintained by a _gendarmerie_ with Allied
officers and recruited in proportion to the numbers and distribution
of the population as reported by an Inter-Allied Commission. The same
proportional arrangement, equally according to the report of the
Commission, would apply to the administration. A Christian governor
would be appointed by the League of Nations and assisted by an
elective assembly and an elective council. The governor would be
responsible for payments to the Turkish Government of annual sums
expanding with the prosperity of the province. This arrangement would
in five years be open to review on the demand of either party by the
League of Nations.” This pleased neither Greeks nor Turks and the 1921
Greek offensive put a speedy end to its consideration.
On June 21, the Allied Governments offered Greece their intervention,
but the Royalist command behind Smyrna was preparing to resume its
march toward Angora and intervention was refused.
In March, 1922, the Allied Governments summoned delegations from
Athens, Constantinople and Angora, the Angora delegation headed by
Yusuf Kemal Bey who had succeeded Bekr Sami Bey as Foreign Minister.
On March 22, an Allied proposal for an armistice in Asia Minor was
forwarded to Athens and Angora, and was followed on March 26 by an
Allied Note making further modifications in the Sevres Treaty and
proposing “the peaceful evacuation of Asia Minor by the Greek forces
and the restitution of Turkish sovereignty over the whole of that
region” within a period of four months after the armistice. The Greek
Government accepted the proposal, but Yusuf Kemal Bey on April 7
stipulated that in his Government’s view an armistice could only be
agreed to after the Greek evacuation. The Allied Governments replied
on April 15 that the period of the Greek evacuation would be shortened
but that it was conditional on a prior armistice. On April 22, Yusuf
Kemal Bey offered to meet Allied delegates at Ismid in an effort to
explore further peace conditions which the acceptance of the armistice
proposal would impose on his Government, conditions which had been
left “open to discussion” in the Allied Note of April 15. The Ismid
proposal came to nothing and in June, Ali Fethy Bey, Minister of the
Interior at Angora, was dispatched to Paris and London with the object
of discovering the nature of the peace conditions which had not yet
been defined by the Allies and effecting an agreement if possible.
On July 22, the Royalist Greek command transferred 20,000 Old Greek
troops from its lines behind Smyrna to the Chatalja lines in Eastern
Thrace for a move on Constantinople itself, a move which the Allied
Governments vetoed. It replaced them behind Smyrna with raw Anatolian
Greek levies and on July 30, “autonomy under the guarantee of the
Greek Army” was proclaimed upon “Ionia.” This radically changed the
military situation, but Fevzi Pasha who was now ready at Angora, was
ordered by his Government to withhold action pending news from Fethy
Bey. In Paris, Fethy Bey had been well received but when he crossed to
London late in July, Lord Curzon’s engagement with him was cancelled
and it was only after protests were made on his behalf that Sir
William Tyrrell of the Foreign Office received him. Sir William,
however, was not empowered to discuss terms of peace and on August 11,
Fethy Bey left London for Rome, stopping in Paris long enough to wire
the news of his reception in London to Angora. The solution of the
Smyrna deadlock was now committed to Fevzi Pasha.
At dawn on August 26, Ismet Pasha attacked the Greek position before
Afium-Karahissar. The secrecy which had marked the re-mobilization and
re-equipment of the Turkish Armies throughout, had been maintained to
the last and Ismet Pasha found the Greeks wholly unprepared. They
abandoned Afium and Kutahia and endeavored to stand on September 1
before Ushak, but on September 2, Turkish cavalry drove into Ushak
through and over the Greeks, swept up General Tricoupis and his entire
staff, and escaped to their own lines. The rest was easy. The distance
from Ushak to Smyrna is 160 miles, but the Greeks covered it in eight
days, abandoning everything but their rifles, living off the country
and stopping only long enough to wreak their last revenge on the
villages through which they fled. On September 5, they began streaming
into Smyrna and nothing speaks more highly of Fevzi Pasha’s staff work
than the fact that all branches of his Army succeeded in keeping pace
with them. On September 9, advance Turkish units entered Smyrna.
Meanwhile, a secondary attack in the north had been launched against
Biledjik on August 30, the Greeks evacuated Eski-Shehr on September 2
and by September 12, their stragglers were crossing from Mudania and
Panderma to Eastern Thrace.
From the back hills of Java to the country towns of the United States,
the Turkish re-occupation of Smyrna shook the world. Islam which had
been staggered by the Greek occupation in 1919, threw itself into
rejoicing with “our brother Turk.” Christendom which had passed over
the Greek occupation in silence, was as staggered by the Turkish
re-occupation as if one of the Commandments had dropped out of the
Decalogue. Of the three elements which were present in Smyrna,
Armenians, Greeks and Turks (to mention them in alphabetical order),
American churchmen assumed that it was the Turks who started the fire
which razed part of Smyrna town within a week after the re-occupation.
As for the Turks themselves, budding Turkish linguists greeted the
news from Smyrna with shouts of “Finish _imperialisme_!”
Only the Allied occupation of Constantinople and the Straits, and the
Greek occupation of Eastern Thrace in the Allied rear, now confronted
Fevzi Pasha. On September 16, Mr. Lloyd George issued his call to the
British Dominions to rally to the defense of “the freedom of the
Straits.” Doubtless Mr. Lloyd George knew what he meant by the phrase,
but while Soviet Russia and Turkey had repeatedly and publicly defined
it, Mr. Lloyd George had refrained from any public definition of it.
More was involved, however, than “the freedom of the Straits” in the
manifesto of September 16. That manifesto was a direct descendant of
the Anglo-Russian Treaty of 1907. With Habibullah dead, with Said Mir
Alim in exile, with the Anglo-Persian Agreement defunct, with
Trans-Caucasia again under the Russian aegis, with the Greek _fait
accompli_ across the Straits in process of collapse, the now exposed
British command of the Straits and the Black Sea was all that remained
of the vast territories which the collapse of Czarist Russia had
vacated before an aggressive British imperialism.
On September 30, Mr. Lloyd George sent General Harington, Allied
Commander-in-Chief in Constantinople, a six-hour ultimatum ordering
the Turkish forces to withdraw from contact with the British lines
behind Chanak. If that ultimatum had been served, it would have
precipitated an Anglo-Turkish war and with British reinforcements
already streaming to the Straits, it is difficult to see with what
other purpose it could have been dispatched from London. Instead of
serving it, however, General Harington dropped it into his pocket and
went to Mudania on October 3 with his Allied colleagues to negotiate
an armistice with Ismet Pasha. At dawn on October 11, the Mudania
armistice was signed, the Allies agreeing to evacuate the Greeks from
Eastern Thrace immediately and to return it to Turkey up to the
Maritza River, admitting the Turkish civil administration, supported
by a force of 8,000 _gendarmes_, within a period of thirty days after
the Greek evacuation.
On October 19, Mr. Lloyd George who might have written the Mudania
armistice in ink instead of in blood, handed his resignation to the
King. In Mr. Bonar Law’s Government, however, Lord Curzon remained at
the Foreign Office. Preparations were now made for a peace conference,
beginning at Lausanne on November 13, for the winding up of
hostilities between the Allies and Turkey and between Turkey and
Greece. Invitations were issued to, among others, the old Ottoman
Government in Constantinople to send delegates to the conference. That
Government, from the Sultan-Caliph down, had been stripped of actual
authority long before by the Allied occupation of the old capital, and
the Grand National Assembly speedily put an end to its technical
existence. On November 1, the Assembly reiterated its previous
declaration that “the form of government based on personal sovereignty
in Constantinople” had ceased to exist on March 16, 1920, adding that
“the Caliphate belongs to the Ottoman dynasty and the Grand National
Assembly will nominate him of the dynasty who is the most upright and
wise in knowledge and character. The Turkish nation is the supporting
power of the Caliphate.”
On the morning of November 4, the Constantinople Cabinet handed in its
resignation to the Caliph-Sultan and at noon Rafet Pasha took over the
administration of Constantinople as one of the provincial capitals of
the new Turkish State. In the early hours of November 17, the
Caliph-Sultan fled on a British battleship to Malta and on the
following day the Grand National Assembly at Angora elected the heir
presumptive, Abdul Medjid Effendi, to the Caliphate of Islam. Turkish
nationalism was continuing to surmount that Old Turkish conservatism
which had helped to wreck the Young Turkish Revolution of 1908. As for
Islam in India, such was the siege-encircled secrecy in which Turkish
nationalism had developed that the end of its historic Ottoman
theocracy fell upon it as a severe blow, but it stuck loyally to “our
brother Turk.” As for the Emperor of India, he was uncertain whether
the seat of the Caliphate was Constantinople or Mecca. The ex-_Sherif_
Hussein had two sons perched on precarious thrones, Feisal at Bagdad
and Abdullah at Amman, and had himself been referred to as “Supreme
Pontiff of the Islamic world and temporal ruler of Arabia.”
[Illustration: GENERAL MOUHEDDIN PASHA
Military Governor of Cilicia on re-occupation by Turkish forces in
January, 1922.]
[Illustration: MEHMED EMIN BEY
The Poet of New Turkey.]
On November 20, Lord Curzon finally opened the peace conference at
Lausanne, with Ismet Pasha, now Foreign Minister in the Turkish
Government, heading the only Turkish delegation. Negotiations went
forward until Jan. 31, 1923, when Lord Curzon served a draft treaty on
Ismet Pasha and on the night of February 4 abruptly left for London.
This breach in the negotiations left British military and naval forces
in occupation of Constantinople and the Straits, and the Greek Army
facing east along the Maritza; but the snows of the Balkans melted
without incident. On April 23, Sir Horace Rumbold, British High
Commissioner in Constantinople, took Lord Curzon’s place at the
resumed conference and the Treaty of Peace, together with a number of
subsidiary documents, was finally signed at Lausanne on July 24.
We have noted previously the fate of the vast British acquisitions
which followed the collapse of Czarist Russia. With Habibullah dead,
with Said Mir Alim in exile, with the command of the Caspian lost,
with the Anglo-Persian Agreement defunct, with the American mandate
project dead and Trans-Caucasia again under the Russian aegis, Mr.
Lloyd George had at last been compelled to abandon his hostility
toward both Russia and Turkey, and at the Genoa Conference in 1922 he
attempted to re-write the Anglo-Russian Treaty of 1907 with Soviet
Russia. But the Soviet had abrogated the 1907 Treaty in 1918 and in
1922 it refused to purchase British recognition by a reversion to
Czarist diplomacy. The liquidation of the British acquisitions
continued. The Turkish re-occupation of Smyrna wiped out the Greek
_fait accompli_ across the Straits and brought the Turks down to the
Asiatic shore of the Bosphorus and Dardanelles. The Mudania armistice
returned the European shore to Turkey. Only an insecure command of the
Straits and the Black Sea now remained of the vast British
acquisitions of 1918 and 1919, and this remnant Lord Curzon now sought
to salvage from the wreck by negotiation at Lausanne with the Turkish
delegation alone. Soviet Russia having refused to re-write the 1907
Treaty against Turkey at Genoa, Lord Curzon now drew up the Straits
Convention against Russia at Lausanne and on May 8, 1923, he
dispatched an ultimatum from London to Moscow which seems to have been
designed to cancel the Anglo-Russian Trade Agreement and to break off
all relations with Soviet Russia. The British Foreign Office has lived
on wars and the brink of wars since 1914 and the time has not yet come
when it is willing to conclude a full and normal peace with both
Turkey and Russia.
The Straits Convention, thus drawn without Russian collaboration at
Lausanne, opens the Straits to all merchantmen when Turkey is at peace
and to all neutral merchantmen, subject to the Turkish right of
search, when Turkey is at war. All warships are to be allowed passage
when Turkey is at peace and neutral warships when Turkey is at war,
both of these provisions to be subject to a number of restrictions,
one of which is that the “maximum force which any one Power may send
through the Straits into the Black Sea is not to be greater than that
of the most powerful fleet of the littoral Powers of the Black Sea
existing in that sea at the time of passage; but with the proviso that
the Powers reserve to themselves the right to send into the Black Sea,
at all times and under all circumstances, a force of not more than
three ships, of which no individual ship shall exceed 10,000 tons.”
By this Convention, Lord Curzon retains access to the southern and
Trans-Caucasian ports of Soviet Russia. Ismet Pasha signed it in the
course of the general signature at Lausanne on July 24. Soviet Russia
signed it at Rome on August 14. Early in September, Mr. Amery, First
Lord of the British Admiralty, paid a visit of inspection to Malta
where he announced that for the next year or two the principal British
squadron would remain in the Mediterranean, and from Malta he
continued to Constantinople.
Lord Curzon also succeeded at Lausanne in securing agreement that “the
frontier between Turkey and Iraq shall be laid down in friendly
arrangement to be concluded between Turkey and Great Britain within
nine months. In the event of no agreement being reached between the
two Governments in the time mentioned, the dispute shall be referred
to the Council of the League of Nations.” The Turco-Arab split in
_Sunni Islam_ which the Foreign Office engineered in 1915 through the
Residency in Cairo, still lives in the Mosul controversy. Arab
autonomy under the religious suzerainty of the Ottoman Caliph which
Rauf Bey had stipulated to Admiral Calthorpe at Mudros in 1918, still
awaits, _inter alia_, the fate of Mosul.
The rest of the Lausanne Conference was a rout. The military victory
which Ismet Pasha had won over the Greeks at Smyrna, he duplicated as
a diplomatic victory over the Allies at Lausanne. Having salvaged the
Straits Convention from the wreck and having postponed the Mosul
matter, Lord Curzon abandoned the unhappy scene on Feb. 4, 1923,
leaving Sir Horace Rumbold to save what he could when the conference
resumed on April 23. Ismet Pasha restricted himself as far as possible
to a settlement of the political terms of peace, referring
concessionaires to his Government at Angora, but it was not until July
17 that Sir Horace consented to sign peace without the Turkish
Government’s acquiescence in the claim of the so-called Turkish
Petroleum Company upon the oil of the Mosul province. Excepting for
further negotiation over Mosul, the political terms of peace between
the Allies and Turkey were signed at Lausanne on July 24. Several of
the economic issues of the peace, the most important of which is the
question of the currency in which Turkey is to pay interest on its
share of the Old Ottoman Public Debt, are still in process of
negotiation.
On August 4, terms for the resumption of diplomatic relations between
the United States and Turkey were signed at Lausanne. Relations had
been severed on April 20, 1917, by the Enver Government at
Constantinople and on May 5, 1923, Ismet Pasha had written Joseph C.
Grew, American Minister to Switzerland, proposing negotiations looking
toward the resumption of regular relations. Two Turco-American
Treaties resulted, one a general treaty and the other an extradition
treaty, the former recording American acquiescence in the abrogation
of the Capitulations which Ismet Pasha had imposed upon the Allies.
Under this treaty, Americans and American institutions in Turkey are
hereafter to be subject to Turkish law and Turkish taxes, Turkey
having voluntarily agreed during negotiations with the Allies to
appoint four legal advisers, nationals of countries neutral in the
late war, who are to serve for a term of five years and whose function
is to be rigorously restricted to the offering of advice. By this
abrogation of the Capitulations, Turkey enters into a status of
equality in the family of nations. In July, 1894, Buddhist Japan began
a five-year probationary period preparatory to its acquisition of that
status of equality which previously been the exclusive right of the
Christian nations, but in July, 1923, its Treaty of Peace with the
Allies conferred upon Moslem Turkey a status of immediate equality
with the Christian nations and Japan.
Ratification of the two Turco-American Treaties is to be exchanged at
Constantinople “as soon as possible” and the Treaties are to take
effect two months after ratification, the intervening period being
allowed for the evacuation of the American naval forces from Turkish
waters.
Meanwhile, Greco-Turkish agreements signed at Lausanne on Jan. 30,
1923, had preceded Greek participation in the Allied Peace Treaty of
July 24. On January 30, Greece and Turkey agreed to exchange their
Moslem and Orthodox nationals, respectively, amounting to a total of
possibly 500,000 persons, exception being made for Moslems of Western
Thrace and Orthodox of Constantinople, Turkey permitting the
Oecumenical Patriarchate to remain at the Phanar in Stamboul subject
to its disestablishment and to the departure of Meletios IV, the then
Patriarch. With this precedent agreement, Greece recognized in the
Peace Treaty of July 24 “her obligation to make reparation for the
damage caused in Anatolia by the acts of the Greek Army or
administration which were contrary to the laws of war. On the other
hand, Turkey, in consideration of the financial situation of Greece
resulting from the prolongation of the war and from its consequences,
finally renounces all claims for reparation against the Greek
Government.” In lieu of reparation, Turkey accepted the suburb of
Karagatch across the Maritza from Adrianople, which was surrendered by
the Greek Army on September 15 in as wrecked a condition as the towns
from which the Greek Army had fled in Anatolia a year before.
On August 23 the Grand National Assembly at Angora ratified the Peace
Treaty of Lausanne by a vote of 215 to 20, and on the following day
the Allied evacuation of Constantinople and the Straits began, to be
completed within a period of six weeks….
To realize the meaning of the Treaty of Lausanne, we shall have to go
back some distance into Ottoman history. Sultan Selim III who was
deposed in 1808, was possibly the first of the Ottoman reformers.
Mahmoud II who succeeded him, was another great Sultan who saw the
need of introducing Western methods into his Eastern realm, and it was
he who abolished the Janissaries in 1826 as a result of their long
opposition to reform. Abdul Medjid I was a third great reformer who
proclaimed the Tanzimat in 1839 under whose terms all Ottoman subjects
were to be given an equal status in temporal law. The Tanzimat dealt
with sweeping reforms in education, in methods of tax collection and
in the courts, but Czarist Russia put a stop to Ottoman reform in the
aggression of 1853 which resulted in the Crimean War.
Under Abdul Aziz, a Western-trained group of Turks revived Ottoman
reform and when Abdul Hamid II became Sultan, Midhat Pasha succeeded
in proclaiming a Constitution. Again Czarist Russia put a stop to
reform in the Russo-Turkish War of 1876 and the Berlin Congress
adopted the title of “the Sick man of Europe” which the Czar had
invented for the Sultan. Czarist Russia and Western Europe now took
over the problem of Ottoman reform themselves, directing it to the
benefit of the Sultan’s Bulgarian and Armenian subjects while passing
over the equally urgent needs of his Turkish subjects. Ottoman reform
as thus directed now became the fixed objective of Christendom from
Czarist Russia to the country towns of the United States, while Islam
in time from the Balkans to the back hills of Java became increasingly
anxious over “our brother Turk.”
Alarmed by the dividing effect of Ottoman reform in Western hands, the
Western-trained Young Turks again revived their own program of reform
and when Sir Edward Grey agreed with Czarist Russia in 1907 on the
eventual partition of the Ottoman Empire, the Young Turks hurriedly
revived Midhat Pasha’s Constitution in the Revolution of 1908. But the
end was already at hand. Austria-Hungary immediately annexed Bosnia
and Herzegovina. Bulgaria proclaimed its independence. Insurrections
began in Albania in which Austria-Hungary was not disinterested and in
Kurdistan in which Czarist Russia was not disinterested. The Italians
landed in Tripoli and the First Balkan War brought the Bulgarians to
the Chatalja lines behind Constantinople, putting an end not only to
any attempt at Young Turkish reform but almost to the existence of the
Empire. In the Western view, this sort of thing constituted Ottoman
reform, and in 1914 the Anglo-Russian combination closed on the Empire
and reformed it out of existence. The Sevres Treaty in 1920 finally
wrote the last chapter in the story of Western reform by proposing to
hand over the richest provinces of the Turkish country to Greeks and
Armenians while denying the Turks any right whatever to an independent
existence. The Sevres Treaty was and still is a full and complete
definition of the word “reform” when applied by Allied diplomacy to
Turkish lands.
In the meantime, the Young Turks abrogated the Capitulations in 1914
and with their hands untied for the first time in their modern
history, a number of other reforms followed in rapid succession
despite the fact that they were engaged in a world war. When Rauf Bey
met Admiral Calthorpe at Mudros to apply for an armistice in 1918, he
stipulated that the abrogation of the Capitulations would have to be
recognized, but the first act of the Allies upon occupying
Constantinople was to re-impose the Capitulations and to undo every
reform which the Young Turks had succeeded in making. Within a few
months, the Greek occupation of Smyrna threw the Young Turks into the
heart of Anatolia. Turkish nationalism repeated and amplified Rauf
Bey’s stipulations at Mudros in the Erzerum program of 1919. The
Ottoman Parliament committed itself to the Erzerum program early in
1920 under the name of the National Pact. British officers reformed
the Ottoman Parliament out of existence on the night of March 15-16,
1920, but away in the heart of Anatolia Turkish nationalism possessed
as free a hand for its own program of reform as its state of siege
permitted. What the Sevres Treaty was to Western reform in Turkey, the
Grand National Assembly became to Turkish reform in Turkey; and when
Soviet Russia recognized the National Pact in 1921, the fingers which
had long strangled Ottoman reform were removed, temporarily at least,
from the Turkish throat.
Afghanistan quickly recognized the Pact. The three Soviet Republics of
Trans-Caucasia recognized it. Insofar as it concerned Cilicia, France
recognized it. Soviet Ukrainia recognized it early in 1922. Insofar as
it concerned Eastern Thrace, Mr. Lloyd George and his Foreign
Secretary recognized it at the point of the bayonet in the Mudania
armistice. But at Lausanne, Ismet Pasha placed the rest of the Pact
before Lord Curzon and early in 1923 Lord Curzon, having swallowed a
few drops of the nasty stuff, returned to London. There seemed then to
be as little chance of Ismet Pasha’s diplomatic success as there had
once seemed to be of Fevzi Pasha’s military success, but Turkish
reform would not be alive today if it had not learned long ago to
achieve the impossible. Little by little, Ismet Pasha dropped away the
non-essentials of the Pact while holding fast to the abrogation of the
Capitulations which the Enver Government had decreed on Sept. 28,
1914, and on July 24, 1923, the British Foreign Office finally
accorded its recognition to the essentials of the National Pact,
exception being made for further negotiation over Mosul.
For the last century, the Ottoman Empire has sought justice at the
hands of Czarist Russia and the West. Czarist Russia has finally
ceased to exist and Turkey has finally gained justice from the West at
the point of the bayonet, a fact which we Christians of the West might
do well to ponder. It secured from the West at Lausanne a belated
recognition of its right to control its own reforms in its own country
and since Czarist Russia and the West by their long endeavor to impose
reforms from without for the exclusive benefit of the Turk’s
minorities, have made it impossible for the Turk and his minorities to
live together, the Turk today has only himself to consider in Turkey.
Insofar as no further Western attempts are made to strangle Turkish
reform (and if the past is any clew to the future, such attempts are
quite certain to be made), the future of Turkey now depends on the
Turk. We know at last who is responsible in Turkey, and this is a very
substantial gain.
XX
THE REAL PROBLEM OF TURKISH NATIONALISM
ECONOMIC BEGINNINGS IN THE NEW TURKISH STATE――MUSTAPHA KEMAL PASHA
OPENS THE SMYRNA CONGRESS――THE CHESTER CONCESSION A STEP FROM
IMPERIALISM TO LAW.
As soon as the Erzerum program had been definitely committed to
negotiation at Lausanne, Mustapha Kemal Pasha lost no time in
diverting into the ways of peace the energy with which Turkish
nationalism had re-mobilized and re-equipped its Armies. For the
building up of a new and Western economic tradition with which to
supplement the old and Eastern military tradition which had long
distinguished its nation, the new Turkish Government had laid its
foundations well. It had refrained from the issue of paper money,
confining itself to the use of paper issued by the old Ottoman
Government during the war. As fast as this paper became worn out, it
was sent to the headquarters of the Public Debt administration in
Constantinople to be exchanged for clean paper. Unlike a number of
post-war European Governments, it had refrained from financing itself
by the use of the printing press but the merit of this achievement is
of course lessened by the primitive nature of the country which it
governed. A country which could survive forty percent requisitions
hardly needed to use the printing press. If many of its minor
officials and soldiers never saw a pay-day, it was not money which had
drawn them into the bitter loneliness of Angora. The deputies in the
Assembly were paid out of the _Evkaf_ (Moslem religious endowments) in
their constituencies. Mustapha Kemal Pasha himself was paid £T300 a
month, a salary which in its buying power in Asia Minor today, is
equivalent to about £T75, or $375, pre-war. The cost of living has
gone up severely in Asia Minor but not quite as severely as it has in
the West. A camel which before the war could have been bought for £T25
gold, will now cost about £T100 paper.
Gold has completely disappeared from circulation, most of it drained
away to Germany during the war. There is a little nickel in
circulation, but practically all transactions in Asia Minor, however
small, are conducted in paper. By the time the Battle of the Sakaria
River was fought and won, the Government had collected a gold reserve
which amounted to about £T1,000,000 (say $5,000,000) in Ottoman and
other gold coins and about 200 kilos of bar gold. Its trade had been
destroyed, its population had been broken, it was confronted with
great devastated areas in the “Pontus,” in Cilicia, in the eastern
provinces and behind Smyrna. Its financial position was about as low
as can be imagined, but it must be emphasized that low as its
financial position was, it was sound. The foundation was good, and the
only question pertaining to it was the durability of the economic
structure which the Turk would prove himself able to build upon it.
The abrogation of the Capitulations on Sept. 28, 1914, had turned the
customs traiff over to the Government and when Angora inherited the
burden of debt and undevelopment which had borne Constantinople down,
the customs tariff was increased from five to fifteen times over the
old Capitulatory tariff. This was done primarily for protective
purposes. Insofar as the war permitted, the development of home
industries was to be given every possible stimulus. Even down to such
minor industries as the manufacture of men’s headwear, nationalist
solicitude for home industries was quickly shown. Presumably one
reason why the lamb-skin _kalpak_ has been substituted in the new
Turkey for the old Ottoman _fez_, is the fact that _fezzes_ were
manufactured in Austria. Although it deprived the Government of a
revenue which was said to amount to £T4,000,000 a year at a time when
it needed every _piaster_ it could lay its hands on, country-wide
prohibition was voted soon after the Grand National Assembly was
convened at Angora.
Since Asia Minor is in large part an agricultural area, the
Government’s first economic plans were directed toward the development
of agriculture, and a scheme was evolved under which farm machinery
was to be purchased abroad by a Government company and distributed
through the branches of the Government’s Agricultural Bank. This
scheme may or may not materialize as the Government enters more fully
into foreign commercial relationships, but its spirit is highly
significant. Trade has passed definitely into the hands of the Turks
and in the building up of an economic tradition to which the Turks
have heretofore been strangers, Turkish nationalism confronts its real
problem.
On Feb. 17, 1923, Mustapha Kemal Pasha opened the country’s first
economic congress at Smyrna. More than 500 delegates were present.
Farmers and producers were given the center block of seats, traders
and business men the right block, and skilled workmen the left block,
with a special section of the hall given over to an exhibition of
agricultural machinery, most of it from the United States. It was a
unique event in Turkish history, and its significance may be gathered
from Kemal Pasha’s opening address, which merits quotation in part:
“Gentlemen, when history applies itself to searching the causes of the
grandeur and of the decadence of a people, it invokes political,
military and social reasons. It is evident that ultimately all the
reasons spring from social conditions but that which is in closest
bearing to the existence, the prosperity and the decadence of a people
is its economics. This historical truth is confirmed in our existence
and our national history. In fact, if one examines the history of the
Turkish people, one will see that her grandeur and her decadence are
merely corollaries of her economic life. So in order to raise the new
Turkey to the desired level, it is necessary, cost what it may, to
accord all our solicitude to the questions which concern her
economics.
“In the course of Ottoman history, all the efforts employed, all the
activities of her statesmen, have had as their aim, not to satisfy the
desires of the people nor to realize their aspirations, but rather to
appease petty yearnings and personal ambitions. Comrades, if one
examines closely the reigns of Mohammed II, of Selim and of Suleiman,
one finds that these great and powerful monarchs based their foreign
policy on their desires to satiate their personal leanings and
ambitions. They had thus to regulate their internal organization in
accordance with their foreign policy. Now foreign policy ought to be,
on the contrary, subordinated to the internal organization――that is to
say, foreign policy should be dominated by the internal economic
situation.”
Kemal Pasha went on to explain that the monarchical policy of
subordinating internal organization to foreign policy, had led to the
necessity of allowing conquered elements to retain their national
organizations in which they devoted themselves peacefully to economic
pursuits while the “essential element” protected them, wielding the
sword against their enemies on every frontier of the Empire.
“Gentlemen, those who effect conquests by the sword finish by being
beaten by those who employ as their arm the plow, and by ceding their
place to them. In the struggle between the sword and the plow, it is
always the plow which comes out on top.”
As soon as Rauf Bey returned from Malta, he was given the Ministry of
Public Works at Angora, where the elaboration of a scheme of railway
development was given immediate attention. Negotiations ensued with
the representatives of the Ottoman-American Development Company,
backed by Rear Admiral Colby M. Chester, U. S. N. (retired), who had
been in previous negotiation with the old Ottoman Government in
Constantinople. On April 11, 1923, the development scheme which the
Government had formulated, was made over to the Ottoman-American
Company by the Grand National Assembly and on April 30, the Minister
of Public Works signed a convention with two representatives of the
Company for what has long been famous as the Chester Concession.
This Turkish program falls into three parts――the construction of 2,714
miles of new railway line, the construction of a new capital city at
Angora and of ports at Samsun, Yamurtalik and Trebizond together with
the re-construction of towns and villages wrecked by the Greeks, and
the exploitation of mineral rights within twenty-_kilometer_ zones on
each side of the new railway lines. The convention with the Chester
group runs for a term of ninety-nine years unless the Turkish
Government chooses to exercise its right of purchase after thirty
years. The Turkish company which is to operate the new railway lines
is to pay thirty percent of its profits to the Government and is to be
subject to all Turkish taxation except customs duties on its
construction materials and its coal, the latter of which is to be
exempt for a period of ten years only. The company may employ foreign
experts (the original Chester project of 1909 stipulated that they
were to wear the _fez_ and a Government uniform), but Turks are to be
trained to take their places and the labor gangs are to be purely
Turkish. There is no _kilometric_ guarantee, nor does the Concession
add any financial burden to the burdens which the Turkish Government
already bears, until such time as the Government may decide to take
over the lines.
The backbone of this Turkish program is its railway scheme, and in
this respect it differs widely from the original Chester project of
1909. Czarist Russia having disappeared, the Turkish Government now
revives the central Anatolian scheme which was first suggested for the
Bagdad Railway and vetoed by Russia. It proposes to extend the
Eski-Shehr-Angora line which was orginally intended for the main line
of the Bagdad Railway, to Sivas, Kharput, Diarbekr and Mosul, but it
adapts its railway program to the needs which have developed during
the last four years. It may be assumed that military considerations
have played a part in the framing of the Government’s railway scheme,
for the war in Europe is not yet ended, and nobody knows how long a
breathing space Turkey is to be permitted.
The first line to be built is to be the Yamurtalik-Kharput-Bitlis
line, with a branch dropping to Mosul, Kirkuk and Suleimanieh. If and
when this line is completed, it will strengthen the Syrian and
Mesopotamian frontiers, and its western end, terminating in an
excellent harbor at Yamurtalik on the Turkish side of Alexandretta
Bay, will afford the Government a port which it sorely needs on the
Mediterranean.
The second line to be built is to be the Angora-Erzerum line with
branches dropping to Samsun and Trebizond on the Black Sea. At present
the Government has no access by rail to any of its Black Sea ports.
Possibly if it had had speedy access to the “Pontus” provinces, they
would not have been devastated by irregular warfare during these last
four years.
The final lines to be built are embodied in a group by which the
Angora-Sivas line is to be connected _via_ Caesarea with Ulu Kishla on
the Bagdad Railway, and the Erzerum line is to be extended to Bayazid
on the Persian frontier. The Erzerum and Bayazid lines in the eastern
provinces are of obvious bearing on any future Russian attempt to
repeat the great invasion of 1915-’16. They are of more meaning than
that. At present Soviet Russia and Turkey are at peace with each
other, and if and when the railway program which the Turkish
Government has made over to the Chester group is completed, Russia may
be afforded an overland outlet to the Mediterranean at Yamurtalik. The
Russian and Turkish gauges differ, the former being 5 feet and the
latter 4 feet 8½ inches, but the political possibilities in affording
Soviet Russia peacefully what Czarist Russia sought by force, are
incalculable. Peaceful access to the Mediterranean over the Chester
lines might easily reduce the Straits to a very small factor in
Russia’s foreign policy. While Turkey is not a Socialist State and
presumably will not be, Russo-Turkish peace is the very foundation of
any world peace and if the Chester group is able to contribute
effectively to an enduring Russo-Turkish peace, it will perform a
service of incalculable worth to the cause of world peace.
A month after the grant of the Chester Concession, Allied
concessionaires began filtering into Angora from Constantinople, to
begin economic negotiations with the Turkish Government simultaneously
with the political negotiations which were dragging toward an end at
Lausanne. These economic negotiations comprised four subjects: (1) the
status of pre-war concessions; (2) the status of modifications
authorized by the Ottoman Government after the Mudros armistice; (3)
compensation for war damage to the property of concessionaires; and
(4) the extension of concessions for a period equal to that in which
they had been non-operative during the war. By the middle of June, the
Constantinople Telephone Company (British) had reached agreement with
the Turkish Government. Early in July, similar agreements had been
reached by the Smyrna-Aidin Railway (British) and the Mudania-Brussa
Railway (French).
Meanwhile, the Assembly adjourned for new elections. Peace not yet
having been signed at Lausanne, the Nationalist Party went to the
country on the basis of the National Pact and was returned by an
overwhelming majority. It was a war election, somewhat reminiscent of
Mr. Lloyd George’s “khaki election” of 1918, and party government with
a strong Opposition in the Assembly is hardly to be expected at Angora
until after an assured peace has come to Turkey.
The Second Assembly was convened in the gray granite building at the
foot of Angora on August 11 and Mustapha Kemal Pasha was re-elected
President by 196 of the 197 deputies who had reached the capital.
Presumably the lone dissenting vote was the vote of “the Pasha”
himself. Ali Fethy Bey, Minister of the Interior, was elected Prime
Minister in place of Rauf Bey and most of the remaining Ministers were
re-elected, Ismet Pasha retaining the portfolio of Foreign Affairs and
Fevzi Pasha remaining Chief of the General Staff. The Treaty of
Lausanne having been ratified on August 23, the Assembly lost no time
in approaching the urgent problem of its own economy and on September
5 Fethy Bey announced the main lines of the Government’s policy. He
stressed first the problem of finance and the necessity of readjusting
taxation. Further points on which the Government proposed to
concentrate, he said, were the schools system and the _gendarmerie_.
His speech was noteworthy for the brevity of its references to foreign
affairs. Given peace abroad, the Government’s program as enunciated by
Fethy Bey is an internal program.
XXI
THE REBIRTH OF TURKEY
With the rebirth of Turkey, this narrative approaches its end. With
the coming of a probable peace, the passions which have been raised in
the Near and Middle East need sorely to be allayed, and there would be
small usefulness in this narrative of the destruction they have
worked, if the past did not contain its element of useful guidance for
the future.
We in the West are heavily in debt to England. It is England which has
slowly and laboriously fashioned our Western tradition of democratic
government and that tradition has placed us all incalculably in
England’s debt. That tradition is still evolving and England is still,
as it has always been, the scene of its evolution. But in
acknowledging our debt to England, we need to think clearly, to
distinguish sharply between the British democracy and the British
Foreign Office. Between the two, there is no effective connection. The
Foreign Office is outside the British Constitution and is not subject
to the effective control of the British Parliament. British foreign
policy in the Near and Middle East neither originates in Parliament
nor is controlled by Parliament. This is a state of things which has
been at once a source of enormous strength to British diplomacy and a
source of enormous danger to world peace.
It was through the British Foreign Office, under Sir Edward Grey’s
Secretaryship, that the British democracy was tied to Czarist Russia
in the Anglo-Russian Treaty of 1907. The British democracy did not
know it at the time nor does it realize to this day the meaning of the
1907 Treaty, for its Foreign Office has been as blinkers fastened
about its eyes. There came a time in 1914 when Czarist Russia clashed
with Germany over the control of the Balkans and the Ottoman Empire.
Sir Edward Grey had tied the British democracy to Czarist Russia and
in 1914 it remained so tied. Whether Sir Edward Grey permitted his
country to believe that the war was to be fought over Belgium and
under this impression brought his country into the war, is a question
which the British democracy may some day succeed in settling with its
own Foreign Office. Events, however, would appear to indicate that
Basra was more intimately connected with the Foreign Office’s actual
war aims than Belgium was. Three weeks before the Enver Government at
Constantinople entered the war, a British Indian brigade lay off
Bahrein Island in the Persian Gulf and when German naval officers
hustled the Enver Government into the war by bombarding Odessa, events
played straight into the Foreign Office’s hand. The brigade off
Bahrein struck at Basra instantly and Sir Edward Grey, in conjunction
with Czarist Russia, began that partitioning of the Ottoman Empire
which had been envisaged in 1907. Czarist Russia was to receive
Constantinople and the eastern provinces, the Foreign Office was to
achieve its Cape-to-Cairo-to-Calcutta scheme, and the Ottoman
Caliphate of Islam was to be destroyed. But of all this the British
democracy knew little until Czarist Russia collapsed in 1917 and
Soviet Russia published the secret treaties which it discovered in the
Czarist archives at Petrograd.
Deprived of its Czarist accomplice at the very peak of its history,
deprived even of the tame Kerensky _regime_, the British Foreign
Office in 1919 sought American aid in holding its position. Viscount
Grey of Fallodon was dispatched to Washington and American churchmen,
with the best intentions in the world, attempted to tie upon American
eyes the same Armenian blind as they had permitted to be tied upon
their own eyes. But the United States Government does not conduct its
foreign affairs as the British Foreign Office does. Viscount Grey went
back to London and the Armenian mandate scheme fell through. The
effort to establish a closer relationship between England and the
United States still continues, however, and it would be interesting to
know to what extent, if any, it is directed toward an Anglo-American
combination against Islam in succession to the Anglo-Russian
combination of 1907. It cannot be emphasized too strongly that we in
the United States are under an incalculable debt to the British
democracy, but to the British Foreign Office we owe nothing.
The Turkish recovery of Smyrna in 1922 stripped the blind from the
eyes of the British democracy, but its Foreign Office blinkers are
still fastened about its eyes. Mr. Lloyd George has fallen but Lord
Curzon still remains. British diplomacy does not lightly change its
aims and the Turk whose end was decreed in 1907, is still an unwelcome
outsider in the field of British diplomacy. Lord Curzon has held most
of his gains in the Arab lands of the old Ottoman Empire, but in the
face of the Turkish recovery he has retreated by inches. He still has
a Greek frontier on the Maritza River, 250 miles from Constantinople,
he still perpetuates the split in Islam which pivots on Mosul, he
still refuses to recognize, even in the elaboration of a new _regime_
for the Straits, the indubitable fact of Soviet Russia. Some day the
British democracy may succeed in removing the blinkers from its eyes,
in reducing its Foreign Office to an ordinary department of its
Government, responsible as its other Government departments are, to
its Parliament. Some day the Foreign Office may become the mouthpiece
of an informed democracy. In a day when diplomacy is passing to the
basis of trade, when British Conservatism has already passed to a
business basis, the end of the present anachronism at the Foreign
Office may be not distant.
We need to be scrupulously fair, however, to Mr. Lloyd George and his
Foreign Secretary. Rid of any actual responsibility to Parliament,
they have kicked the beaten Turks into such independence as they have
never known since the golden days of the Ottoman Empire. Thanks to the
absolutism which Mr. Lloyd George enjoyed, the Turks have finally
attained a degree of nationhood “one and indivisible” which is far
beyond what the most visionary Young Turks of 1908 hoped to attain.
Their historic Christian communities have been rooted up and deported
from the land in which they had lived for four peaceful centuries
under the rule of the Ottoman Caliph, and for this truly colossal
achievement the thanks of a grateful Christendom are due to Mr. Lloyd
George, who attempted to impose alone upon Islam that fate which Sir
Edward Grey had agreed in 1907 to impose in conjunction with Czarist
Russia.
The disestablished Oecumenical Patriarchate still remains in
Constantinople and the departure of Meletios IV on July 10, 1923, may
open its doors to the new Turkish Orthodox Church of Anatolia. The day
seems to be at hand when the remnant of the Turkish Christians, welded
firmly into the Turkish State by the flame of nationalism, may restore
the Patriarchate to those exclusively religious functions which in the
Western view are the only proper functions of a Church.
Nationalism which proposes to substitute its new Eastern _regime_ of
law for the old lawlessness of Western imperialism, is the driving
force of Turkey today and Turkey happens to be the key country of the
world. Nationalism in Turkey today welds and does not divide. Its cry
strikes a sound and healthy note. I heard it in its purest form at
Adana. It was in a theatre, filled to overflowing with Turkish
officers, Turkish townsmen and Turkish peasants. Beyond the
footlights, framed in the little proscenium of the theatre, stood the
plump figure of the poet, Mehmed Emin Bey, now an old man of
seventy-two, his voice hoarsened to a whisper, the perspiration
streaming from beneath his _kalpak_, as he intoned his verse in liquid
Turkish. Once a lonely cry in the wilderness, his voice that night was
punctuated with quick applause. For twenty years he has been lifting
up his cry and today he is still making his way through the scorched
and decimated villages of Turkey, still burning himself out with his
old cry:
“_I am a Turk_;
“_My race and language are great_.”
* * * * * *
Transcriber’s note:
The one footnote was moved to the end of the chapter in which its
related anchor occurs.
Dialect, obsolete and alternative spellings, and misspelled words
were left unchanged.
Inconsistent hyphenation was not changed.
Duplicate partial words at line endings were removed.
The text of one sentence, in which one or more lines of text were
misplaced, was not changed:
However narrow Old Turkish opinion was, however stubbornly
it confined the Young Turks to a rigidly conservative
interpretation of the Caliphate, Islam in India could
Caliphate may have come to be two quite separate adjust its
Caliphate to such modern and healthy growths as that of Arab
nationalism.
Two instances of wrong usage of words were not changed:
“are” should be “the” ―― “We in are West who are accustomed …”
“no” should be “not” ―― “… was no in contact …”