Lawrence of Arabia Page 9

  The object was to open negotiations with Khalil Pasha in the hope that he might allow the garrison to go free in return for a generous bribe. Lawrence also had a third aim, in his own mind, which was to explore the possibilities of creating a revolt among the Arab tribes on the Turkish lines of communication, so that the besiegers of Kut might themselves be cut off from supplies and reinforcements.

  But on arrival at Basra he found the atmosphere unfavourable alike to his official mission and his private purpose. The last-minute idea of buying off the Turks had been conceived by Townshend, adopted by Kitchener, and accepted by Lake, the Commander-in-Chief in Mesopotamia. But it went against the grain of many of the British generals. Although they had been baffled in their efforts to relieve Townshend’s starving force, their defeats in open fight did not make them respond to, far less relish, what seemed to them the idea of gaining their object, by underhand methods. Hence they looked coldly on a mission which affronted their soldierly code of honour. On the more practical ground that the attempt would have a worse effect on our prestige even than a military defeat, Sir Percy Cox, the Chief Political Officer, refused to associate himself with the negotiations. It should be added that Lawrence himself was also against it, because he considered that Khalil, as Enver’s nephew, was too assured of money from home and too certain of military success to be thus bought off.

  The result justified these expectations. The garrison of Kut was at the last gasp when the negotiations were attempted, and the Turks spurned the offer of a million pounds to let them go free on parole. In vain, the Cabinet at home doubled their offer, and thereby provided the world outside Britain with a piquant jest at the “nation of shop-keepers.” The censorship might keep it from our own people, but the Turks took care to broadcast to other peoples. The actual parleys were a humiliating experience for the envoys. Under a white flag, Herbert, accompanied by Colonel Beach and Lawrence, crossed no-man’s-land; on entering the Turkish lines, they wer e blindfolded before being taken back to Khalil’s headquarters. All that they succeeded in extracting from him was the release of some of the sick and wounded in exchange for unwounded Turkish prisoners.

  Khalil would not accept Arab prisoners, saying that most of them were no better than deserters; they would only be court-martialled and shot if they were returned. When the British officers asked him not to punish the Arab inhabitants of Kut, whose share in the siege was involuntary, he showed amusement at their concern for such carrion, but assured them that he had no intention of being vindictive. He hanged only nine at the outset, which in view of his past record was perhaps a proof of his mercy.

  Lawrence’s personal project proved equally abortive. The time had passed for saving Kut and most British officers were too scornful of the Mesopotamian Arabs to visualize them as potential allies, especially at the price of encouraging their pretensions. Lawrence here was opposed not only by military short-sight but, in certain quarters, by a vision as far-ranging as his own, if different from it—a vision of British rule extending its borders, to the benefit of administrative order if not to the satisfaction of native ambitions. Lawrence’s unconcealed contempt of the military mismanagement of the campaign in Mesopotamia did not make his views on the Arab question any more palatable to the senior officers he met, and, during his brief visit, he attained a remarkable degree of unpopularity which was to have wider effects in the years to follow.

  On embarking at Basra for the return trip to’ Egypt he found that his solitary fellow-passenger was a general, Webb-Gillman, who had been sent out by the War Office on a mission of investigation. At first Webb-Gillman seemed inclined to resent the intrusion of this unconventional subaltern upon his meditation, but his sense of humour was tickled by Lawrence’s suggested division of the deck for their respective perambulations, and he took full advantage of their companionship. Hearing that Lawrence had compiled a report on conditions in the Mesopotamian Force he asked to see it, and discussed every page with Lawrence at length before starting to write his own submissions.

  This knowledge consoled Lawrence for the editing he suffered when, on arrival in Egypt, he handed in his report on what he had observed of interest to the staff in Egypt. He had Milled Ac demand with a generosity that caused the recipients acute indigestion. To quote Colonel Stirling—“He criticized the quality of the stones used for lithographing, the system of berthing barges alongside the quays, the inefficiency of the cranes for handling stores, the lack of system in shunting and entraining on the railways, the want of adequate medical stores, the blindness of the medical authorities and their want of imagination as to their probable requirements. And, horror of horrors, he criticized the Higher Command and the conduct of the campaign in general!”

  Sir Archibald Murray, who knew of his visit to Mesopotamia, asked to see the report. “There was consternation that night in the General Staff, for we were convinced that, if he were to read it, apoplexy would be the result and we should lose our C-in-C. Hurriedly, therefore, we sat down and bowdlerized the report until we considered it fit to be put before his professional eye; Lawrence, however, was abundantly right in most of his criticisms—particularly on the medical question—as was proved by the tragic muddle which occurred when the wounded first started coming down.”

  But although this “devastating” criticism was to be abundantly justified by history it was vigorously resented at the time. Those professional soldiers who were in his immediate circle, men who recognized his value, who had a sense of humour, learnt to tolerate his jests at their profession and even enjoyed the smarting sting of truth. Although their instincts rallied in defence of their profession, the defence was undermined by a deep-down feeling of agreement. But to those who were solidly buttressed by dignity and orthodoxy, the idea of a temporary second-lieutenant indulging in military criticisms and sitting in judgment on generals was revolting. The pill was not even coated with the sugar of superficial and sartorial correctness. He was often curt with seniors, and free in correcting their ignorance. He offended their eyes, as well as their ears, by the colour of his collar, the pattern of his tie, and his habit of going about without a Sam Browne belt.

  To those brought up in the military convention that infallibility is the privilege of seniority, there was continual irritation in the complete assurance, almost dogmatic, with which Lawrence used to utter verdicts on any matter that came within his own range of knowledge. And because that range was astonishingly wide, it widened all the more the gulf between him and his official seniors. Yet if they tried to “put him in his place,” they were left with a sense of having been ineffectual, and were apt to be checked by something they could not define, so they sought to apply corrective pressure through his immediate superiors.

  Newcombe had gone back to France before 1915 was out, and Lawrence had been absorbed into Murray’s swollen staff organization where his chief, Holdich, was a man who could not tolerate Lawrences “cheek” or his superior knowledge. While they were both serving on Maxwell’s staff, they had been on good terms, but in the way that is too often characteristic of the servants of authority Holdich seems to have changed with the change of command and to have taken on the colour of his new superiors. For the causes of his divergence from Lawrence, as well as from others of his own subordinates, were more than personal. Lawrence’s estimates of enemy strengths were given to the nearest hundred; Holdich suppressed them and put forward his own which seemed to his subordinates “to be only in the furthest ten-thousands.” Lawrence himself has remarked—“Holdich was excellent in Operations and fatal in Intelligence.” The history of the Palestine campaign from 1915 to 1917 certainly endorses the second half of this judgment. The only way that the junior members of the Intelligence Staff could get the true figures through was under the cloak of publishing fresh editions of the Turkish Army Handbook!

  Lawrence’s excessive enthusiasm for the Arab Revolt was an additional offence in the eyes of several members of the General Staff, whose prejudice against the Revolt on
principle was accentuated by their personal prejudices against McMahon and Clayton. Lawrence seemed a traitor in the General Staff camp. On his part, he now began to repay their dislike by multiplying his aggravations, correcting their prose style, on paper, and their ignorance, over the telephone. Here he was deliberately provoking the power of a military bureaucracy to deposit its inconveniences on some out-of-the-way shelf. But he slipped through their fingers by slipping into the Arab Bureau, where a corner was found for him by the good offices of Clayton. And the Arab Revolt was now about to open up a better opportunity for him. In October, while his transfer was being privily arranged through London, he took ten days leave and used it to make his first trip to the Hejaz, accompanying Ronald Storrs.

  CHAPTER VI

  MEN OR A MAN

  July–December, 1916

  The danger of the Turks recapturing Mecca leads the British Government to contemplate the dispatch of troops to Rabegh—General Staff opposition—France takes a hand in the game—Lawrence’s first visit to the Hejaz—He finds in Feisal the necessary prophet-leader-On his return he advises against the dispatch of troops—Meantime the reluctant General Staff is on the point of being driven to send them—A decision is put off, but the Arab situation grows worse—Relief comes suddenly

  THE midsummer dream had changed into an autumn spectre. The news that filtered across the Red Sea was depressing to the British representatives in Egypt and the Sudan who had hailed with delight the outbreak of the Arab Revolt as the fulfilment of long-cherished hopes and an invaluable relief to the pressure on Egypt. By the Indian Government the rising had been viewed with marked distaste, so that its threatened collapse was taken lightly. In England, although the public at that time but dimly perceived the significance of the rising, in governmental circles its echoes carried far—arousing a controversy that gave the obscure port of Rabegh a ringing fame which lasted until, late in the year, it was drowned in the clatter of Mr. Asquith’s fall.

  The problem of giving practical support to the rising had come before the War Committee of the Cabinet on July 6th.1

  It made a number of recommendations. The chief was that the British force in Egypt should push forward to El Arish and also occupy Aqaba, so as to threaten the Turkish communications with the Hejaz.

  But the advance to El Arish was slow to mature while the Sherif had showed a reluctance towards the idea of British troops landing at Aqaba. Thus the British higher command, reluctant to spare troops, were only too glad of an excuse to profit by his uncertainty and avoid the necessity.

  The dangerous situation in the autumn, however, brought a call to send him direct help. The prospect of a Turkish advance from Medina on Mecca loomed menacingly close. It was most likely that the Turks would move by way of Rabegh, the route which offered less difficulties and more water. Moreover, it was stacked with the supplies that the British had accumulated for the Sherif’s use, and thus offered a tempting prize.

  Faced with this danger both McMahon and Wingate urged that a British brigade should be dispatched to Rabegh. Murray strongly resisted the proposal. He seemed to have little faith in the success of the rising or insight into its possible value, and was thus the more unwilling to spare troops from his own immediate zone of operations. It was easy to conjure up arguments. The appearance of British troops so near the Holy Cities might antagonize the Moslem world and even the Arabs it was intended to succour. More account was to be taken of the Sherif’s past hesitation than of his present desire for such help. If troops were sent, they might serve no useful purpose, because the Turks might choose to go by the inland route.

  McMahon had a conference with Murray at Ismailia on September 13th, in an effort to overcome these objections. Unable to reach agreement they referred the matter to the authorities at home. A stream of telegrams passed to and fro between the High Commissioner, the Sirdar, the Foreign Office, the Commander-in-Chief in Egypt, and the Chief of the Imperial General Staff at home. The Foreign Office submitted the issue to the War Committee, which referred it to the General Staff for an opinion.

  Murray found strong support for his objections from his successor at home. Sir William Robertson had taken up office with a fixed determination to cut down all distant distractions in order to concentrate every possible man on the Western Front. Freed of the Gallipoli “side-show,” to his delight, but entangled at Salonika, to his disgust, he had no intention of being drawn into a fresh commitment.

  In a memorandum of September 20th, 1916, Robertson set forth his views, with a definite recommendation that no troops should be sent. Any direct help should be limited to “such as the Navy could give.”

  Several Ministers, in particular Lord Curzon and Mr. Austen Chamberlain, did not agree with Robertson’s recommendation. They suggested that the men on the spot, McMahon and Wingate, were more likely to know what was needed and what the Arabs’ feelings would be, than the General Staff in London. Finally it was arranged that the views of the Viceroy of India and of the Commanders-in-Chief in Egypt and Mesopotamia should be obtained.

  The Viceroy’s answer reflected the consistently deprecatory attitude of Indian officials towards the Arab rising, which had been a “displeasing surprise” to them, while the bombardment of Jidda had been deplored. The Viceroy now set forth various objections to the dispatch of troops to Rabegh and ended by declaring that the collapse of the revolt would be far less prejudicial to us in India, and also in Afghanistan, than would military intervention in support of the revolt. General Maude’s answer from Mesopotamia seemed to reflect a similar attitude. He suggested that the tribes in his sphere were not sufficiently interested in the revolt to care whether it succeeded or failed. Murray took an optimistic line, suggesting that no troop were needed at present.

  These answers did not satisfy the Ministers who were calling for prompt measures. But Robertson declared he had nothing to add to his original memorandum, and in face of his uncompromising opposition, the Ministers yielded. His satisfaction, however, was short-lived, and his resistance was soon tested again by the turn of events, which brought not only renewed pressure from the Foreign Office but a new pressure from France.

  When the news of the Arab Revolt had reached France, its bearing on the ideas that on their part underlay the Sykes-Picot treaty was quickly perceived. It inspired the French to take a hand in stirring the broth that had already so many cooks.

  Their view was expressed in a Ministry of War document of August 5th:—

  “The Arab rising against Ottoman domination was favourable in a measure to French interests; from the political point of view, it might spread among the people of Palestine, Syria, and Little Armenia, free those provinces momentarily from Turkish persecution and pave the way for a French intervention; from the military point of view it might immobilize the Turkish forces in proportion to its extension; from the Islamic point of view, it might lead the majority of our Moslem peoples to regard the Turks as the assailants of the Holy Places and, in consequence, increase their loyalty towards France, who was fighting the allies of the Ottomans.”

  The French Prime Minister laid stress on the importance of reopening the pilgrimage and sending “some religious notables of assured loyalty who might carry to the Emir [of Mecca] presents and subsidies, with the felicitations of our Moslem subjects.” To this political deputation should be added a French military mission, composed exclusively of Moslems but under the direction of a French officer.

  These measures were at once put into effect. Lieut.-Colonel Brémond, who had served for years in North Africa and was an accomplished Arabic scholar, was appointed head of the mission. He was to establish his headquarters in Egypt while the Arab part, under a Moslem artillery officer, Major Cadi, went to the Hejaz.

  The mission reached Alexandria on September 1st, and a fortnight later sailed for the Hejaz accompanied by the political deputation. On landing at Jidda it received a ceremonial reception, marked on the Arab side by flowers of speech and on the French side by the deli
very of a million and a quarter gold francs. The French-African pilgrims followed a few days later. Religious enthusiasm and financial joy overflowed as the cavalcade set forth for Mecca. But after the return from Mecca, Si Kaddour Ben Ghabrit, the head of the deputation, reported that the Sherif had shown no eagerness to accept the offer of French military support, suggesting that it might harm his cause.

  Ben Ghabrit, however, warned the French Foreign Office that unless such help was at hand when real danger arose, the Arabs were likely to make terms with the Turks. He added a significant hint—“our installation in Syria will probably be a source of difficulties with the Sherif of Mecca, if we do not profit by his present weakness to make an agreement with him that will limit his ambitions while recognizing such of his desires as are reconcilable with our interests.”

  These difficulties, and possibilities, had not escaped the attention of the British Foreign Office. But the intervention of the French mission could not be avoided; hence it might as well be accompanied by military participation of more practical utility. The day after the mission landed at Alexandria the British Government asked the French to send a detachment. The War Office suggested a field battery and as many specialists as possible, so long as they were Moslem soldiers. But this wish could not be fulfilled immediately because the French had no natives trained as artillery men and few as specialists. In November a detachment which included machine-gunners and engineers as well as two batteries, and totalled a thousand men, was assembled at Suez, there to complete its training. It would be of service later, but it had no effect on the immediate emergency.